Lucas Flatt: "Bring on the grunge"
Lucas Flatt
Issue date: 11/21/08 Section: Opinion
I was kicking back, watching a movie the other night and I had a brilliant idea. Seriously. Brilliant.
Have you seen Gus Van Zandt's film "Last Days?" It's about the final days of Kurt Cobain's life. Except they change some stuff and his name is Blake. Or something like that. It starts with a "B."
Totally killer movie, man.
It's kind of slow, though, so that is why I was thinking. I do that, sometimes. It, like, gets pretty deep up there. Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like if I could, you know, take all these crazy ideas I have and, like, do stuff. With them, I mean.
So, where was I? Oh, yeah! I was watching the movie (totally bitchin', by the way, if I didn't mention that), and I looked over and saw this killer flannel jacket hanging up on my wall.
I've been wearing it for a week or two now, because it's totally cold out side. But that doesn't matter. What matters is this amazing idea I had: now is the perfect time for a grunge revolution!
Whoa. I know, right?
Think about it.
In the last ten or fifteen years, have any rock bands knocked your socks off?
I mean…emo? Really?
Since when did dudes going to their sister's hairstylists have any right to play rock n' roll?
The eighties, I guess.
But what about all these dudes (and ladies…sorry, can't forget the ladies) writing wussy poetry about feelings and emotions and putting them on the internet?
A real grunge rocker would spit a mouth full of warm beer all over the internet, if he could, you know, find it.
And all the references to wanna-be rock n roller's cutting themselves in their lame, emo songs? Weak.
Wait, wait…I know. Kurt Cobain totally killed himself or whatever. Also weak. But plenty of grunge rockers didn't take the easy way out. And they didn't write wussy poems about morbid stuff and crybaby feelings either.
They wrote kick-ass songs about black holes on the sun and dudes who live in boxes.
Have you seen Gus Van Zandt's film "Last Days?" It's about the final days of Kurt Cobain's life. Except they change some stuff and his name is Blake. Or something like that. It starts with a "B."
Totally killer movie, man.
It's kind of slow, though, so that is why I was thinking. I do that, sometimes. It, like, gets pretty deep up there. Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like if I could, you know, take all these crazy ideas I have and, like, do stuff. With them, I mean.
So, where was I? Oh, yeah! I was watching the movie (totally bitchin', by the way, if I didn't mention that), and I looked over and saw this killer flannel jacket hanging up on my wall.
I've been wearing it for a week or two now, because it's totally cold out side. But that doesn't matter. What matters is this amazing idea I had: now is the perfect time for a grunge revolution!
Whoa. I know, right?
Think about it.
In the last ten or fifteen years, have any rock bands knocked your socks off?
I mean…emo? Really?
Since when did dudes going to their sister's hairstylists have any right to play rock n' roll?
The eighties, I guess.
But what about all these dudes (and ladies…sorry, can't forget the ladies) writing wussy poetry about feelings and emotions and putting them on the internet?
A real grunge rocker would spit a mouth full of warm beer all over the internet, if he could, you know, find it.
And all the references to wanna-be rock n roller's cutting themselves in their lame, emo songs? Weak.
Wait, wait…I know. Kurt Cobain totally killed himself or whatever. Also weak. But plenty of grunge rockers didn't take the easy way out. And they didn't write wussy poems about morbid stuff and crybaby feelings either.
They wrote kick-ass songs about black holes on the sun and dudes who live in boxes.
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