The Ghost of Kurt Cobain

 

 

Kurt Cobain / Photo Courtesy Alice Wheeler, April 2004

Editor's Note: 16 years ago on April 8, the body of Nirvana frontman  Kurt Cobain was discovered at his mansion just outside Seattle, WA. Coroner's reports claim he killed himself three days earlier, making this Monday, April 5, the unofficial anniversary of Cobain's death. In memoriam, we are republishing Chris Norris' moving, detailed tribute, which was featured in our April 2004 issue honoring Cobain.
According to Japan's Shinto faith, when a person dies, his or her spirit passes into nature to reside in the air, water, and rocks. If the person has distinguished him- or herself in life, the spirit becomes a kami, a deity associated with powerful forces like wind and thunder. These deities can be endowed with completely opposite personalities -- gentle or violent.
"[He] made women want to nurture and protect him," a friend, Carrie Montgomery, once said of Cobain. "He was a paradox in that way, because he also could be brutally and intensely strong, yet at the same time, he could appear fragile and delicate." The Japanese believe that after death the spirit is angry and defiled. Relatives perform rituals to pacify and purify it. Those who die happily, among their families, become revered ancestors. Those who die unhappily or violently -- usually through murder or suicide -- are called yurei, ghosts who wander about causing trouble. The ghosts of suicides are said to be the most dangerous.
She'll come back as fire, to burn all the liars, and leave a blanket of ash on the ground. "Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle" (Nirvana, In Utero, 1993).
In July 1989, a band recently signed to Seattle indie label Sub Pop appeared at a small New Jersey nightclub. They went on early, played to about 30 people, and, according to a witness, "just incinerated the place." The group had built a strong word-of-mouth following since the release of their first single the previous year, but for newcomers, the show was a revelation. "It was like, 'What the fuck?'" says the witness, Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore (who later helped the band sign to DGC). "Not only was every song crushingly great, but at the end, they just smashed their instruments and threw them into the audience. It seemed totally new."
To Moore, the trio looked like the demonic hick kids in the horror film Children of the Corn. "You know, long stringy hair, ragged flannel, and ripped dungarees." The 22-year-old singer's voice "had a teenage Lemmy quality [referring to the gristly, guttural Motörhead singer], and that band knew how to rock. It was so simple: the best parts of R.E.M., the Beatles, the Buzzcocks, Black Flag. But no band was doing that. Nobody in their right mind would reference R.E.M. or the Beatles then. But they did. And it worked."
You might say that. Within two years, Nirvana were the biggest rock band in the world; within three, the biggest of the decade; and within five, kaput. In that time, their small, skinny, singer/guitarist devised '90s rock and helmed a sweeping cultural change of style, attitude, and outlook. Then he ended his life.
Although some Shinto texts talk about the "High Plain of Heaven," or the "Dark Land," none provides any details about the afterlife. In Buddhism, the only true end of suffering is the attainment of total enlightenment. A peace beyond peace. A line in a recently published letter -- sent to a friend in 1988 from a young blond punk rocker in Washington state -- sounds, even today, far from peaceful and anything but an ending. It announces, in bold block letters, OUR LAST AND FINAL NAME IS NIRVANA.