Cries From The Heart

摘要

Kurt cobain introduced me to karaoke. In May 1991, Nirvana was promoting its upcoming major-label debut "Nevermind"―an album that would sell more than 10 million copies, revitalize rock and roll and teach Michael Jackson, who had an album about to be ejected from the No. 1 spot, the real meaning of the word dangerous. But the scrappy Seattle trio were still staying in low-budget motels (a step up from sleeping in their tour van) and ordering the cheapest items on coffee-shop menus. Over greasy zucchini sticks at a Holiday Inn Express outside L.A., we talked about what it took to hold onto your punk-rock ideals in a very unpunk world. On a small stage in the bar, a busboy was setting up a mike stand, speakers and wide-screen TV. I wondered out loud if we were going to hear a bad lounge act. "No, it's worse," Cobain said, blowing the hair out of his eyes. "It's karaoke." Karaoke? "Yeah, you know, when drunk secretaries get up and sing 'Feelings'." Cobain, the Nirvana frontman who'd go down in history as the angsty, nihilistic voice of the post-boomer generation, had cracked a joke.