Five words that will make you feel old (according to Best Week Ever)

Happy 40th Birthday Kurt Cobain. He'd be 40. 40!! Man oh man.

I was never a big Nirvana fan back in the day. I never knew what the big deal was -- the music they made sounded so much like the bands I went to see in high school. But when It happened, when "Smells Like Teen Spirit" hit, I knew it as over. I knew the music and lifestyle that I had loved was over. When I heard Nirvana being blared out of frat houses or other student houses, I knew it was over. The same people that had spit on me for being me were taking over my music. I knew that the style I had worked for would become popular. I knew that when I told a friend in high school that "Doc Martens would never be on the runway in Milan" I was very wrong. And I knew that the style, the music, and everything involved with it would be beaten to death by mass media, marketers, music companies, and everyone else. And I dreaded it.

I blamed Nirvana for this for a long time. But if you look back it was just a matter of time before it happened. Nirvana? The right band at the right time. They were good. Cobain and Company touched a generation like none other. Geffen had no clue Nevermind was going to skyrocket like it did; it sold out in a matter of weeks if not days. It truly was the people saying they were tired of what they were being fed. And that's pretty cool. It's just too bad that the whole thing ended up exploited.

I was older when I really began to appreciate Nirvana. At one point I ended up with two copies of In Utero. I gave one to my brother. Years later I sent my other copy to Kevin. I hadn't listened to it in ten years and he no longer had his copy. Better it go to someone who would listen to it than to collect dust on my CD shelf. But, see, then Kevin made me a Nirvana mix. And you know what? It was really damn good. Really good. So there I was, 30-some years old, finally appreciating Nirvana for what they were: a Damn Good Band. It was easier to see them as a Damn Good Band when their very existence was not being billed as the Second Coming. It was easier to really hear them without people proclaiming Cobain as the Voice of My Generation (he wasn't). Damn, they were good. And at one point I began to wonder if I'd made a mistake by giving my copy of In Utero to Kevin. Maybe I should ask for it back. (I didn't.)

So, Cobain would be 40. Damn. Damn.