If you subscribe to the idea of idols, then you’re likely to consider Kurt Cobain a demigod at this point in rock ‘n’ roll history. In the 16 years since his death, he’s become less an artist and more a patron saint of alternative rock. (Ironically enough, a moniker that would probably disgust him to no end.) Much like Hendrix, Morrison, or even Marley, his face has become a representation for something thematic, immortal… or commercial. He stares at us from dorm room walls, from T-shirts worn by youths that were born after his death, and on magazine covers year after year. As time passes, people tend to forget he was just, you know, an average joe. That’s why it’s interesting to read or hear about the “other side” to these modern myths.
When he’s not playing in Guns N’ Roses, Velvet Revolver, or Jane’s Addiction (?), bassist Duff McKagan writes a column for his hometown paper, Seattle Weekly. Ironically enough, he shares the blog space with former Nirvana bassist (and rival) Krist Novoselic. This week, McKagan took a trip down memory lane, sparked by his recent read through of Cobain, Rolling Stone‘s past tribute collection released after the singer’s 1994 death.
In a rather confessional tone, McKagan digresses on his plane ride with Cobain days before he committed suicide (“We were both fucked-up. We talked, but not in depth. I was in my hell, and he in his, and this we both seemed to understand.”), his regrets about not reaching out to him (“…the thought crossed my mind to invite him over to my house then and there. I had a real sense that he was lonely and alone that night. I felt the same way.”) or his bandmates (“In truth, I had such low self-esteem at that point, that I am sure I felt my call would have no impact on these fine men.”). It’s a pretty heart-felt read which sees fires extinguished and apologies made. Let’s just say that Novoselic and McKagan will be talking at the water cooler from now on.
It’s a read like this that lets you realize modern myths are just that: myths. In retrospect, Cobain wasn’t anything more than a human being, a lost individual with a broken mind and a battered lifestyle, no different than your next door neighbor, your boss, or your best friend. We just always want to believe otherwise.
Maybe it’s better we don’t.
Click here to read McKagan’s entire entry, aptly titled, “All Apologies.”
