by Greg Prato
ART CHANTRY: Even bands that were really smart got screwed. Not just by Sub Pop — when the majors moved in, the professionals got in there and started screwing everybody.
CHAPTER 12
“How do three guys sound like nine?”: Nirvana
Unquestionably, one of the most popular and enduring grunge bands of all time is Nirvana. But judging from their early years, there was little evidence that this unlikely group of misfits would eventually completely alter the landscape of rock music.
KEN STRINGFELLOW: The scene in Seattle was staying a bit harder and not melodic. Like, you know how Mark Arm is monochromatic melody-wise? Seattle wasn’t bending towards that “pop sensibility” really. Until Nirvana. Nirvana was far more melodic — almost insanely so. Even though they had really noisy stuff too.
LARRY REID: I remember when [Kurt Cobain] was this homeless waif who was tagging along as a roadie for the Melvins. I remember him being at the last Big Black show. He was a really interesting, creative little kid — I was smitten with him from the get-go. He had these tattered bell-bottoms — he didn’t look like he’d washed his clothes. I think he literally was a runaway kid. This was like ’84. He kept popping up at these things — he kind of stood out. He was always a good-looking kid.
ART CHANTRY: Kurt was one of those guys that always hung out and was always carrying everybody’s equipment. He was Buzz’s friend.
DALE CROVER: I met Kurt — he used to go to the high school I went to. It was probably a month after I joined [the Melvins]. Buzz was telling me they saw this kid that they knew from Montesano on the bus, started talking to him about music, and invited him to go see Black Flag. I met him down at the smoker’s shed at Aberdeen High School. Became friends, and he started hanging out with us. We knew he played guitar, and he even kind of tried out for our band — we were thinking about adding a second guitar player. But in the end, we decided not to, because he didn’t have an amp. Didn’t really seem reliable [laughs]. But we were still good friends — he’d hang out and we’d jam occasionally.
I’d work on songs with him sometimes. In ’85 or ’86, for about a week, I wasn’t in the Melvins. They were thinking that since I was still in high school, they were going to tour, and I wouldn’t be able to get out of school to do it. That was always a problem, because we had gigs, and I’d be missing school the next day because we wouldn’t be coming back. They decided that they would try to get another drummer. It didn’t work out, but in that brief week that they tried to get another drummer, Cobain and I went to his aunt’s house and recorded the Fecal Matter demo [1985’s Illiteracy Will Prevail]. His aunt had a four-track. I don’t think he had an amp then either. I remember him plugging in direct, but I can’t remember how the hell I would have heard the guitar. People talk about that demo like it’s this unreleased thing that must be amazing. But not really. A crappy four-track demo. We basically had formed a band — I played drums and bass on the demo. We may have even been playing before that, with a friend of ours that lived across the alley from me. He played drums and I played bass.
We were in various different bands with Cobain too, like we had a band called Stiff Woodies. Modeled the name after the Limp Richerds — a great Northwest band that nobody knows about. Sometimes Kurt would play drums, sometimes he’d play guitar. There was a point where Novoselic was the singer, which was great because he’s this big seven foot tall dude, with a Jimi Hendrix fringe vest, who’d do big high kicks — who couldn’t sing at all [laughs]. Someplace floating around, there’s some radio show with us doing a bunch of those songs. We did that demo, and I don’t think we played any shows, but that’s how he got Krist to play with him — I was back playing with the Melvins. He wanted to put a band together that was more a band, not just a side project. He even tried to put something together with Buzz playing bass, and the old Melvins drummer playing drums. They rehearsed for a while, and it fell through.
DYLAN CARLSON: I met Kurt at a show; it was this side project that Buzz and Dale were doing with him — Brown Cow. It was him doing spoken word stuff, while Buzz played bass and Dale played drums.
CHRIS HANZSEK: [The Melvins’] roadie was Krist Novoselic. I remember thinking that he was a really tall kid, and he wore these size fifteen basketball shoes — he didn’t have the laces laced up beyond about the fourth row. So he had eighteen inches of lace hanging out. Kind of goofy looking — fifteen-year-olds never quite look right. I remember ironically thinking, “Oh jeez, this poor kid, he’s got to get his act together,” because it just seemed incongruous that this band was bringing this guy along. And then they told me he was in a band himself. I remember thinking, “ Yeah, OK — good luck buddy.”
SLIM MOON: Krist had this crazy VW van, that was decorated like a zebra, and he would always drive the Melvins to shows.
JOHN BIGLEY: Hoquiam — a very depressed area. The fact that they bumped into each other … Kurt had that “stuff ” in him — they got it together and got it recorded. The whole spectrum, it’s almost movie script shit. But it’s not. They got good fast too. The first few shows, everybody was talking about them. Real sweethearts too. Then, I don’t know, they started drinking protein shakes or eating Wheaties or something.
ALICE WHEELER: I saw them at the HUB Ballroom, and there were probably more people with the band than there were in the audience. My friend Tracy was taking pictures — she was dating Kurt.
TRACY MARANDER: I’m not really sure the first time I met him. I remember two times — one time was at a party at the Fifty-Sixth Street House in Tacoma. Jim May, who ran the Community World Theater, him and a few people lived in a house right by there and would always throw parties. They would charge two or three bucks to get in, and have bands playing. [Kurt] was with the Melvins, and I remember talking to him — he had a pet rat on his shoulder. And then the other time, I was in the car with my boyfriend at the time in the parking lot of Gorilla Gardens. Him and Buzz were talking to us — I remember how blue his eyes were, and he had a nice smile. And was really friendly. He had a long trench coat on, and had kind of short, feathered hair. I was friends with Shelli [Dilley, Krist Novoselic’s girlfriend and later wife]; we worked together. I’d go down to Aberdeen to visit, and we’d see Nirvana practice in Kurt’s living room. Kurt’s voice was a lot different then — more gravelly and deeper. I had a crush on him — I’d go hang out with Krist, Shelli, and him. I would try and hit on him every so often [laughs]. Shelli’s like, “He likes you too, but he’s kind of shy.” Eventually, we hooked up and started dating.
Kurt Cobain after being caught spray painting on a bank wall, and charged with “malicious mischief in the third degree.” (Kurt spent eight days in jail.)
Shelli started working the graveyard shift with me; Krist was doing some painting job during the day. They were trying to find a house in Tacoma or Olympia. During the weekdays, they stayed in our studio apartment. Shelli and I would sleep in there during the day, Krist would be at work, and Kurt would wander around Olympia. Then we’d all have dinner together, and eventually, Krist and Kurt would go to sleep later, while Shelli and I went to work. Kurt liked to watch TV. We didn’t have cable at that time — we only had one channel. He’d play music — sit around and play his guitar — or paint pictures. If we could afford to, we’d go to the art store downtown and get canvases for him. If we couldn’t, he would paint on the back of board games. He also did a lot of oil pastels and stuff, where he’d draw cartoons and things.
We drove in their friend Ryan’s panel van [to Nirvana’s first show, a house party in March 1987] — we all crowded in the back with the equipment. I remember drinking a lot of beer and stealing beer from the fridge. I think a lot of the people at the party really didn’t like Nirvana. At one point, Krist was on top of their big, ’70s sorta TV, encased in a wood box. Krist was standing on there shirtless. Shelli and I were in front of him, running our hands up and down his chest — just to be goofy, because everyone seemed like they were uptight. We were trying to be as ou
trageous as we could. Krist was jumping off the TV, and they’d run around the living room, and jump off the coffee table. Everyone’s like, “You’re going to break stuff!” Eventually, I think they kicked us out. At first, he had a really good time. But later on, he was critical of the mistakes they’d made. I thought that was kind of stupid, because like I said, everyone was drunk, and at some point, they just decided to make it more outrageous — to make an impression — than to play well. [Kurt] liked Aaron Burckhard’s drumming. He was a really good drummer, it’s just that he had lousy equipment, and instead of buying new equipment, he’d just spend it all on alcohol, drugs, or whatever. He was always flaking out on practices.
JACK ENDINO: An unknown band called me up, and a guy said, “My name is Kurt Cobain, and I’m friends with the Melvins. Dale from the Melvins is helping us out because we don’t have a drummer right now. We want to record some songs for an afternoon — we don’t have much money.” I said, “OK.” I figured, “If Dale is playing with you, you must not be bad.” They came around noon, and they were out the door by 5:00 or 5:30, with ten songs recorded and mixed. You can call it a demo — some of the results are on the box set [2004’s With the Lights Out]. Actually shocked at how good they sound.
I think they only played one gig with Dale Crover — that night at the Community World Theater. Literally, they left the studio, drove to Tacoma, and played a show. There’s bootlegs of the show, and they played the same songs they recorded with me in the same order [laughs]. Plus a couple more we didn’t record because they didn’t have money for any more tape. Then Dale moved to San Francisco to be with Buzz who had already moved down there. So Nirvana did another gig or two with this guy, Dave Foster.
MARK ARM: I heard a tape that Jack Endino recorded — I didn’t really think much of it at the time. Jack thought it was great, brought it to Sub Pop, and Bruce and Jon thought it was great. I was really into simple, primitive, aggressive, stripped down rock, and that early Nirvana demo somehow sounded too busy to me. The first time I saw them was at the Vogue, and they weren’t very good. I mean, honestly, they weren’t very good — they had a crappy drummer.
SLIM MOON: They seemed to have a different name every time they played — Skid Row, Pen Cap Chew, or Ted Ed Fred. It was clear Kurt was really talented, and Krist was a favorite. They were a great band, but they always had these drummer problems — they’d go through drummers every few months, and then end up back with the drummer that they had fired a while before. It was really a frustrating situation, because they had started out making their original recording and playing a few shows with Dale from the Melvins, which was one of the best drummers in the world — for that kind of music. And then they’d have these really bad drummers, who couldn’t really even keep time.
DYLAN CARLSON: You could definitely tell [Cobain] was into Gang of Four at that time — a lot more complex rhythms. A herky-jerky kind of sound.
ALLISON WOLFE: I remember the first night I saw Nirvana play. I believe that was ’87. It was also the last night of this club that was about to close down — a student project from Evergreen, gescco. There was maybe twenty people, and Nirvana was called Skid Row. I was excited to see Skid Row, because I had a tape — I think they played on the radio and I had taped it. It was great. I remember feeling like something big was happening. Even though no one was there, that band was the perfect blend of ’70s punk, but it also had this Zeppelin feel to it. And of course, Kurt Cobain was very cute. From there on, I started seeing Skid Row whenever they played. I remember this one show at Community World. They played a cover of CCR’s “Bad Moon Rising” — that was the end of their set, and everybody went crazy and was dancing. A whole bunch of people who I had assumed would have been at the show, showed up — when the show was over. I was like, “Oh my God, you missed [it]!” And they’re like, “We went to Seattle to see a concert. This new band from L.A. — Guns N’ Roses.”
CHAD CHANNING: I remembered seeing their show when they were Bliss. You’ve got this one guy who’s really, really tall, just hammering this bass, and then there’s Kurt. He had some kind of … it looked like crushed velvet, silk, purple or blue, bell-bottom pants, and I think he was wearing platform shoes. He was a really colorful character up there. He’s louder than hell, screaming, and then there’s Krist, who’s standing the size of the Eiffel Tower on one end. Krist was the talkative one; Kurt seemed on the quiet side, almost timid.
JACK ENDINO: Nirvana the first time I saw them weren’t very impressive [laughs]. In fact, in their early shows, they weren’t very good because Kurt hadn’t really figured out how to sing and play at the same time. In the studio, his voice blew me away. The first few Nirvana shows I saw, they were nobody — which means most of ’88 — because the first demo I did for them was in January of ’88, and then I was doing the “Love Buzz” single in June or July of ’88. And that didn’t get released until a couple of months later. So there’s the first three-quarters of ’88, they’re out there playing shows, but there hasn’t even been a seven-inch yet. They played a lot of empty rooms.
DAWN ANDERSON: [ Jack] ended up passing the tape on to Sub Pop. He doesn’t remember this anymore, but I was in the room when Jack was talking to them on the phone, and Jonathan was telling him, “I really loved it — Bruce thought it was a little too arty for him.” Jack got pissed off — he said, “He’s into mediocrity!” [Laughs.] Then I went to see them, at the Vogue. They weren’t as great as I expected them to be, but they were good. After that show, [Kurt] was whining, because he thought he sucked. He was talking about how he was sick and his stomach hurt — he had puked, and all the precursor of things to come. I remember telling his girlfriend, “You need to tell him that he’s awesome, because he thinks he sucked.” And she sort of rolled her eyes — “Yeah, that’s Kurt.” I wrote this thing that ended up getting quoted quite a bit, where I said, these aren’t my exact words, but “With enough practice, these guys can actually be better than the Melvins.” Like saying, “The Beatles may become as good as Badfinger.”
CHARLES PETERSON: The first time I saw Nirvana, I thought they sucked. I didn’t understand why Jonathan wanted to sign this band. They just seemed like a bunch of mopey shoegazers. The music seemed off, it didn’t do it for me. And stupidly, I didn’t take any pictures of them that night. I just thought, “This is probably the first and last time I’ll ever see or hear from this band.”
KIM THAYIL: They had no damn stage presence — at the time. They seemed a little bit nervous. They were opening for us outside in this park in Olympia. We really liked the songs, but Kurt just stood there — his hair was in his face. He didn’t move.
TOM PRICE: I remember smoking dope with Kurt at a U-Men show at an art gallery. I remember going to a party at Susie Tenant’s house, and all these guys came in. I didn’t realize who they were at the time, but it was Kurt and some of those guys. I remembered thinking how funny they looked — they were kind of shorter, stocky — they looked like lumberjacks. It was funny being at a party and there’s all these hipster, punk rock freaks, and then here’s these guys wearing what would later be “the grunge uniform” — caps, flannel shirts, Parkas. They were all smoking weed.
REGAN HAGAR: The last Malfunkshun show in Olympia, Kurt came up to Kevin to see if he wanted to join Nirvana. Kevin told him, “No,” and thought he was just some fan. I’m sure Kevin wishes he would have given it a shot.
MARK ARM: Nirvana didn’t start to get good until they got Chad Channing in the band.
CHAD CHANNING: I first met Kurt and Krist at a Malfunkshun show. They were playing the Community World Theater in Tacoma — I’d been friends with Kevin. We actually had been working together for a while as cooks in this seafood restaurant. I went up there, and a friend of mine, Damon, introduced me to Kurt and Krist, because they were looking for a drummer. Before that, I was in this band called Tic Dolly Row, which actually had Ben Shepherd — in fact, that’s how Kurt and Krist heard about me. A friend of mine, John Goodmanson, h
ad this radio show at the college station, and Tic Dolly Row went up there. As I would later learn, Kurt and Krist were listening to that show, and thought, “Wow, that was some pretty cool stuff.”
JACK ENDINO: They got Chad in the band, and then came up with the name Nirvana.
TRACY MARANDER: I think [Kurt] liked Chad’s drumming quite a bit — although they thought he was a little hippie-ish. Kurt’s problem was, if you get a good drummer, they’re going to have their own ideas. But then Kurt wanted to be the one to control, tell them how to play the drums.
CHAD CHANNING: The thing that lured me in was how simple the music was, yet with the vocal melodies, was just really cool. He did a really good job of taking something simple and making it sound really, really good.
JEFF GILBERT: They didn’t play much around here, but when they did, it was an event. Three guys making a sound that totally belied the band members. I mean, how do three guys sound like nine? It all came from attitude, power, and volume. But it was punk rock — their version of punk rock — and you couldn’t get more pure than that. And they would go on so stinking late — every freaking time. You’d get burned out waiting. Like, come on! The sets wouldn’t be that long, because as punk rock songs are — like the Ramones — you can squish twenty-four songs in twenty-four minutes practically. You hit that first note — Kurt would do a power chord, and the drums were starting to smack around a bit, and the bass would rumble for a minute. And then in one second, it would all come together, and just explode. It was like a lightning bolt hit. You saw more feet than hands in the air, because people would go upside down. And you couldn’t even see the band — except for Krist — you could never see the drummer, you could see the top of Kurt’s head, because the Vogue’s stage was maybe just a foot and a half off the floor.
The audience would be pushed right up against the band. Half the time, the band would have to play on the dance floor, just because there’s no room. Band and fan became one at those shows. Just horribly loud. The Vogue and the Central are big cement rooms, and the echo … you’d have tinnitus for three or four days. I was amazed at how much beer could be drank and spilled simultaneously. The floor when you would walk in — Monty would have the floor perfectly mopped, swept, and before any of the bands came on, nobody was standing out on it. Stick to the perimeters. Once the bands came on, you’d go, “Where were all these people thirty seconds ago?” You didn’t think they could fit all in there. Then when you were done, you’d look at the floor … the grunge guys wore Doc Martens, the metal guys wore white tennis shoes. Big mistake — they’d be brown by the time you got out of there. Again, the stench. Ugh.
