Monday, April 05, 2004

"And I swear, no I don't have a gun, no I don't have a gun, no I don't have a gun..."

Ten years, kids. And I have to admit, because of my upbringing, that when it happened I was barely aware of it. Barely phased. I care more now than I did then.

It's sad. It's tragic. Imagine what music would have been if Kurt had made just three or four more albums. Would we be overrun with boy bands and bubble gum pop? Doubtful. Would American youth culture be a whole lot more depressed? Probably. But top 40 radio wouldn't have turned into utter crap.

So all you grunge kids, wear your ashes and rags. I'll be spinning the Unplugged album all day here in the office. We'll remember, and then we'll keep moving on.

*****

We passed upon the stair we spoke of was and when
Although I wasn't there he said I was his friend
Which came as some surprise I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone a long long time ago

Oh no not me
I never lost control
You're face to face
With The Man Who Sold The World

I laughed and shook his hand and made my way back home
I searched for form and land, for years and years I roamed
I gazed a gazley stare at all the millions here
We must have died along, a long long time ago

Who knows? not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With the Man who Sold the World


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