The Rewind Button is a group blogging project that I’m participating in. We’re taking on Rolling Stone‘s Top 40 albums of all time and writing our own reviews of them. There will be a new album and review each Thursday (or there about).
I attended Tarleton State University in Stephenville, Texas, in 1991. As any red-blooded American male, I was away from home and on the make. It was a Saturday in October, and I had two options. Drive all the way to Dallas to see some show at Trees or stay in Stephenville and go to a party out in a field. Option one featured a long drive and a crowded venue. Option two featured free beer and the opportunity to meet girls. My friend and I debated the options, and since we only knew the teen spirit song by Nirvana, I talked my friend into staying and attending the party with me.
I didn’t get laid that night. In fact, the party was pretty much all guys. Guys in a field drinking beer. Come to find out, though, I missed one of the most notorious Nirvana shows of all time, one in which Kurt Cobain got in a fight with a bouncer. The show was a crazy mess, but one I’m sure I would have enjoyed more than free beer. I’m definitely sure I would have enjoyed it more. But that’s hindsight. At the time, the slight chance to meet a girl was greater than the latest rock music revolution.
One couldn’t ignore Nirvana very much that year. They were the defibrillation to an industry whose heart was clogged full of crap. And like any good change-makers, they altered fashion as well. There are still pictures out there somewhere with me in all my flannel glory.
I’ve noticed that flannel is making a comeback. I think that’s more to do with a wish for a new rock revolution. But I’m not sure if that’s possible now, because of technology. In 1991, society consumed products through a pipe, just as it was always done. Every now and then, though, someone would come along and either widen the pipe or shatter it all together. Today, the Internet, that “series of tubes,” helps spread consumption. There’s really nothing to break anymore, because if you want to do something revolutionary, you just create another pipe or site or tube for people to find you. And people like that. I know I do. But it doesn’t make very many people superstars, or if they are stars, they’re short-lived.
Kurt Cobain died in 1994, a year before commercialization of the Internet. By then, Nirvana was commercialized, too. The band thrived at an optimal time, because there is no way they would have had the same impact on culture if they came on the scene today.
I finally saw Nirvana in December 1993. It was a crowded show, but tame compared to what others witnessed at Trees two years earlier. I regret missing that specific show, but thanks to the Internet, we can all see it now. It’s not the same as being there. But Nevermind, too, isn’t the same as when released. Its edges have soften. Its spikes have dulled a bit. It’s still a great album and warrants higher placement than No. 17 on Rolling Stone‘s list. Still, listening to it fills me with regret at choices made, both personally and as part of society’s larger decisions. For all the good technology has brought us, I sometimes still long for the days when our gods weren’t so easily available or forgettable.
Please visit these other blogs participating in The Rewind Button project:
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