Hank Mohaski: Moist & Tender Favorites: "Aberdeen" [mp3]It was merely coincidence that I found myself in the Pacific Northwest a mere two months after Kurt Cobain blew his brains out in the greenhouse behind his Lake Washington home, but my stop in his hometown of Aberdeen was obviously no fluke.
I never fully adored Nirvana, though I did like and sometimes loved their music, but I was always fascinated by Cobain, the fellow left-handed guitar slinger whom I had held up for comparison to my own aspirations of rock stardom. In other words, Kurt Cobain had attained the life I had been dreaming of since I was 12 or 13, and more importantly, had essentially done it on his own terms, without compromising his artistic vision. The truth is - had I actually become a big rock star, it would have been with essentially the same kind of music Nirvana did - a heady mix of Punk and Metal, underpinned by a certain kind of pop song sensibility. I have several hundred 4-track tape masters dating back to 1986 that can attest to this fact.
At the time of his death, I would argue that I was a better guitarist than Cobain, and possibly a better lyricist, but in all other respects, he had me trumped - a better voice, better songs, better looks, better drugs, and more ambition. I always imagined in some alternate universe that I was the rockstar, the voice of my generation, while Alternakurt was the unknown slacker toiling away over his 4-track in permanent obscurity. This was my fascination and quasi-obsession with the man - the vagaries of success, and what it takes to become famous, that undefinable mix of talent and luck. And even more fascinating, the idea that Kurt Cobain had realized his dream, and then realized he didn't want any of it after all. In hindsight, I had decided it was for the best that I had remained a failure. I wasn't cut out for fame any more than he was.
Anyways, in the summer of 1994, I found myself in his hometown of Aberdeen, Washington, and quite simply, it was one of the saddest, ugliest towns I have ever seen with my own eyes. A poor, decrepit town nestled in a supremely beautiful landscape.
So, I wrote and recorded this song on my trusty old Tascam 4-track - a spoken word thing about entropy, decay, neglect, boredom and death. The quality of the recording isn't that great, and time hasn't been exactly kind to those old cassette masters, but I've come to think that it was one of those rare times when the execution of the song met my expectations.
And there you have it - the 200th installation of S4TW. Enjoy.
Kurt Cobain - rest in peace.
Hotcha! Hank
Labels: album covers, Giraffe Farts, Hank Mohaski, Kurt Cobain, mp3, music, Nirvana, RIP, Something 4 The Weekend
