Music

MUSIC1

Alan Freckelton2

Friday morning. Thank God it’s Friday and all. And this Friday is even better, because I’ve got a gig tonight. Down at the Waterfront Bar. Just me and my guitar, the way it’s been since the band broke up, four years ago now.3

Shauna is still asleep beside me. I love to watch her in the morning light. I can see the light making patterns on her bare back as she stirs under the covers. Shauna always clings to me when she can feel me getting out of bed. I love it, but I really gotta get to work. We’ve been together nearly three years now, and she’s starting to hint that we should get married. That’s a big step, I told her, last time she mentioned it. She usually just looks at me with a smile when I say things like that, and she tells me that she’d never want to be with anyone else. I still don’t know how anyone can feel like that about me. I’m not gonna lose her, that’s for goddamn sure. 4

By 7:30 I’m dressed and off to the docks. The job isn’t much – just loading and unloading crates off the ships. But it pays the bills, and I can walk to work. It’s still a bit cold this early on an April morning, but I love the fresh air and the salt smell. 5

First job for today is unloading a cruise liner that’s come down from Alaska via Vancouver. I’m still thinking about Shauna at this time of the morning, but I know I should be concentrating on work. Most of my workmates are already there. Randy will be telling me how the Mariners are finally gonna win the World Series this year. Garry’s just come back to work after his wife Alanna had a little girl, Heather – he’s been carrying photos in his wallet and showing everyone who will look. And Vilperit - Vil to us - wants to celebrate the anniversary of getting his Green Card – it’ll be a whole year in the US of A next week. The guys usually make it to see my shows. I think Randy even has our album somewhere. Not many do!6

By nine, we’re well under way, and the boss has even turned up. Mike Henry can be a bit of a jerk sometimes, but as far as bosses go, he’s OK, I suppose. “Coburn!” he calls out to me. Bastard never gets my name right. “Mind that crate – there’s Victorian antiques in there!” 7

“You mean Victoria, Canada?” I call back.8

“Just get on with it, Coburn,” he says, walking off.9

I correct him again, but he doesn’t hear me. Probably wouldn’t make any difference anyway.10

We break for a Coke and some doughnuts at about 10:30. Vil and Randy like a smoke, but I gave them up a year or so ago with Shauna’s help. I’d tried to give up a few times before – and not just cigarettes, you know what I mean – but it was only after I met Shauna that I managed to do it. Something in me really wanted to do good for her, you know? Shauna had been through some crap in her life too, but she’d come out the other side, and I figured I could do the same. She stuck with me while I suffered from the withdrawals, until I was finally clean. I clung to the cigs for a while longer, but she eventually got me to give them up too. I had my last smoke back in June – midsummer’s day ‘93, I think – and now the only drugs in my system are Tylenol and the odd post-gig beer. Most Friday nights, Shauna, Randy, Garry, Alanna, Vil and I have a drink – just lemon squash for Vil – and a laugh down at the Waterfront Bar. They’re great times.11

But tonight it will have to wait until after my gig! Geez, not even 11 am yet, and I’m already anticipating it. 12

“Ready for the big show tonight?” asks Randy.13

“Buddy, I’m ready to go now,” I said. “My hands are itching.” There will probably only be fifty people, and only five of those will have ever heard of the band, but I don’t care. I just love performing to the crowd. I know my voice isn’t that great, but I’m a pretty good guitarist, and I know I can work an audience. 14

Garry is reading the Seattle Times while he munches his doughnut. Clinton is already campaigning for the mid-terms. Garry can’t stand Clinton. He usually describes him as a “goddamn Liberal who’s probably screwing his interns”, and rages that he still hasn’t got his health care plan going. Randy, who’s a Democrat, says that Clinton hasn’t had a year and a half in office yet, so give him a chance. I don’t buy into political arguments, but it’s great fun watching them go at each other and still be best buddies when they’ve finished. 15

The rest of the morning is uneventful. Today we’ve got crates of salmon from Alaska, computer parts from California, wool from Australia, and reams of paper from Canada. All are unloaded without any hassles, unless you count Randy stubbing his toe on the corner of one crate and swearing about for five minutes without a break.16

Lunch is at one. Shauna comes down to join us. I grab her and kiss her, like I always do, while the guys wolf-whistle us. She’s got us lunch from Subway – meatballs and sauce, my favourite. 17

I haven’t really told you what Shauna looks like. She’s a bit taller than average, long dark hair and dark eyes, and legs that go for miles. I think she’s got a bit of Native American in her, but she says she doesn’t know. The sun always comes out when she smiles. I could just stare into her eyes for ages. Sometimes at home I do. I love to just be with her – it’s something I’ve never experienced before. I always used to have go out, get drunk or stoned, something – but I don’t need any of that with her. I can just be.18

I really should get around to asking her to marry me.19

There’s a bit of misty rain around, but we all sit out on the dock and eat, like we usually do. The guys all reckon I have a constant silly grin on my face when Shauna is around, and my IQ drops 20 points, and Garry says that would probably make it negative. I tell them to go take a running jump, but it’s all true. 20

“I picked up some more guitar strings for you,” says Shauna. “I heard you say you were running out.”21

“Thanks, baby,” I say. 22

“You used to go through a few of those when you were in the band, I bet,” says Randy. “You were real headbangers, man!” 23

“Bit hard to play that sort of stuff solo,” I say. I do play a few stripped-back versions of our “headbanging” material off our album all the same. The few people in any given audience that have heard of us always appreciate it. 24

We all sit for a while, talking about politics, sports, latest movies, you name it. Randy still can’t believe that the Cowboys knocked off the Bills in the Super Bowl – he had fifty bucks on Buffalo to cause an upset. Shauna and Vil discuss The Fugitive and Indecent Proposal. 25

We have to get back to work at 1:45, and Shauna has to go. I know I’ll see her again in about three hours, but I still hate to see her leave. I kiss her goodbye. She tells me she’ll see me soon, and that she’s looking forward to tonight. “I love you,” I whisper in her ear as she leaves. She smiles at me once more and then walks away.26

“You marry that girl, or what?” Vil asks me, with a mock-serious expression.27

“Yeah man, I will,” I say.28

“When?” he asks. “You never know, you don’t marry her soon, someone else take her, hey?” He grins broadly.29

“Yeah, I know,” I say, sort of shamefaced. Vil slaps me on the back and says, “We better get back to work.” I agree.30

The afternoon passes much the same way as the morning. I’m thinking about what I’ll play this evening instead of concentrating on my work. I always open with the same song – the only song off our album that went anywhere – but I usually just sort of make it up from there. I do originals and covers, but I always get the biggest kick out of playing stuff I wrote myself. I wrote my first song when I was nine, back in Aberdeen, Washington, after my dad left for some blonde bimbo and Mum shacked up with some alcoholic loser. I felt like my life had gone down the toilet, but I got plenty of songs out of it. Thanks to Shauna, I don’t feel like writing that real dark stuff any more. 31

Now that I think about it, my whole life is really Before Shauna and then With Shauna, and I want to make sure there isn’t an After Shauna.32

Dammit, it feels like it’s been 4:45 for years. We’ve really finished all the work for the day, and now it’s just putting back the equipment, making sure everything that should be locked is locked, and waiting around for quitting time. Mike doesn’t like to see anyone on the day shift leave before five. We sort of stand around for fifteen minutes trying to look busy.33

Finally it’s 5 pm, and I almost race out of the docks. “See you tonight, guys!” I call back to them. 34

“Sure will!” Randy calls back. Garry might not make it – he doesn’t want to leave Alanna and Heather for any longer than he has to yet. I wonder what sort of a dad I’d make, or if Shauna has ever thought about kids. I’ll do better than my dad or that bastard of Mum’s, that’s for sure. 35

I get home by 5:15. I always get home faster than I get to work. Shauna isn’t home. She’s left a note saying she’s getting Chinese take-out, so I decide to shower while she’s away. She comes home just as I finish getting dressed. We kiss each other hello and I lay out the table for dinner.36

“You going to shave?” she asks.37

“The stubble’s in, baby!” I say. It always annoys her, but I promise to shave before going to bed this evening. That satisfies her.38

After dinner, I pack all my equipment: the Ibanez “acoustic electric”, my leads, mike, picks and spare strings all go into the hard case. I grab my amp and say, “I’m ready, let’s go.”39

“Hang on” says Shauna, “it’s only 6:30. You’re not on until eight.”40

“Yeah I know,” I say. “But let’s go anyway.” 41

It only takes us ten minutes to get down to the Waterfront Bar. We can walk it, like most places in Seattle. I carry the amp, and Shauna carries my guitar case. I tell her she’s the hottest roadie I’ve ever seen. She sticks her tongue out at me.42

There’s already a reasonable crowd in when we arrive. The regulars all know me and say “hi”, and the guys all eye Shauna. Jimmy, the owner, comes up to us and asks us how our day’s been. I talk for a while, then set up the stage – well, it’s not much of a stage, more a slightly raised area around the bar, but what the hell. I set up my mike stand and my favourite stool, and plug everything in. I do a couple of sound checks with Jimmy, who tells me everything’s sweet. Randy and Vil walk in at that moment, and so do Garry and Alanna, pushing a pram.43

I put down my guitar and head for the new parents. “Hey man, Alanna, great to see you,” I say. “I didn’t think you’d make it!”44

“We can’t stay,” apologises Garry. “But we thought you’d like to meet Heather before your show.”45

Alanna lifts a little bundle out of the pram and holds Heather up for me to see. “She’s beautiful,” I say, and mean it. 46

“She sure is,” says Garry, looking proudly at his wife and three-week old daughter. Shauna races over to see too, and gasps at the sight of little Heather.47

“She must get her looks from her mother, then!” calls out Randy. 48

“Shut up,” says Garry, but he’s still grinning from ear to ear.49

“Anyway, we have to go,” says Alanna. “Great to see you again.”50

“Bye,” I say. “Bye, Heather.” I wave at the little bundle as she disappears under the blankets again.51

At eight, I sit down at my stool, and Jimmy calls for quiet. Then he introduces me. I still get a bit nervous before a gig, and Jimmy’s introductions tend to make me more so. But soon he finishes, and the audience applauds. 52

I draw a deep breath and launch into About A Girl. A few people cheer when they hear the first chords, the rest just sit and listen quietly. It’s hardly a stadium performance, but this is what I really live for. This and Shauna.53

The set is pretty standard for me, I suppose. I go on to the old Bowie song The Man Who Sold The World next, hoping there aren’t too many diehard Bowie fans in the crowd who don’t like my treatment of it. Next comes Love Buzz, an old Shocking Blue song we covered on the album, and then one I wrote after the band broke up, Lithium. No prizes for guessing what that one is about. After playing REM’s You Are Everything (dedicated to Shauna of course), I reach for a beer and revive my throat. 54

The audience is good tonight. Some nights they just ignore me and carry on their own conversations, but tonight they seem to be listening. Shauna sits with Randy and Vil and blows me a kiss. I blow her one back. I finish my beer and get ready to start again. 55

I decide to be adventurous and play I song I wrote pretty recently, which I called Heart-Shaped Box. It’s a slow and moody piece, which you can’t sit there and groove along to. I can see that the song hasn’t really grabbed the crowd, but I had to try my new one out. Never mind.56

Come As You Are is next, another one I wrote after the band split, but I’ve played it pretty often for the last two years, and all the regulars know it. I can see Randy singing along to “and I swear that I don’t have a gun”, while Shauna and Vil pretend they don’t know him. 57

I notice Jimmy refusing entry to a few teenagers as I finish the song. He doesn’t believe they’re 18, and he says he can smell alcohol on their breath already. “That’s just teen spirit, man,” says one. 58

“Get out of here,” says Jimmy. They go, reluctantly.59

Just a few songs to go before my hour or so on stage is finished. I round out the set with Floyd the Barber from our album, All Apologies --another one of mine post-band-- and finish up with an old favourite, the Violent Femmes’ Blister in the Sun. The audience likes that last one, and sings along to the chorus, and I get a good round of applause as I finish up. 60

I pack up and wander over to Shauna and the guys. She gives me a big hug as I sit down and hands me a cold Bud. “You were terrific,” she says, and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Except for that stubble.” Randy and Vil laugh.61

It’s only then that I notice the guy at the next table, who has just turned around to face us. It’s Dave, from the band. I haven’t seen him in a long while.62

“How’s it going, man?” says Dave.63

“Great. This is Shauna,” I say, putting an arm around her, “and these are my pals Randy and Vil.”64

“Glad to meet you all,” says Dave. “You were great up there.”65

“Thanks man,” I say, meaning it. It was Dave, back in ’90, who decided we weren’t going to make it after our album flopped. Krist and I resisted at first, but we eventually agreed. It was a lousy time: all our dreams going down the drain.66

“Makes me want to play again,” says Dave.67

“Go for it,” I say. “I can talk to Jimmy if you want to play here.”68

“Nah,” says Dave. “You were the singer, you wrote most of the songs, you were the lead axeman. I don’t think I’d be much of a solo performer.”69

Then he comes out and says it. “Do you ever think about getting the band back together?”70

I have, plenty of times. But I think that time is past. 71

“Not any more, Dave,” I say. “I’ve finally got my life together, and I think I’m past the band, recording deals, touring, all that crap. I’m happy with the regular gig here.”72

“Yeah,” says Dave, smiling ruefully. “We thought we’d be big, didn’t we? We even got the contract and made an album. And then no-one bought it!”73

“That’s how it goes, Dave,” I say. “We gave it our best shot, it didn’t come off. Can’t do any more.”74

“It would have been good, though, wouldn’t it?”75

I sometimes dream about music videos, rocking the Mariners Stadium, MTV Unplugged, all that sort of stuff. But I look at Shauna and say “Yeah, but I’ve got everything I need right here.” She smiles lovingly back at me. God, she’s beautiful.76

“Good for you, man,” says Dave. “I run into Krist now and then. He’s working in insurance or something now.” 77

I laugh loudly at this. “Yeah?” I say. “He always was a wild rock and roller.”78

“Well” says Dave. “Great seeing you, Kurt. I’ve gotta get out of here.” We shake hands, and Dave leaves, out into the Seattle mist.79

Shauna whispers in my ear. “Do you mean that?” she asks. “That you don’t need the band any more?”80

“Yeah” I whisper back. “It’s all true.”81

She gives me that look, the one that always melts me.82

We all talk for a while longer, until Shauna and I decide to call it a night. I’m beat after a day’s work and a gig. We say goodnight to Randy and Vil, pick up all the gear, and head for home.83

Shauna and I hold hands all the way home. The cloud is breaking up, the moon is coming out.84

I think tonight is the right time to ask the question she’s been waiting for. Yeah, I’m gonna do it. Tonight.85

********************86

Kurt Cobain, the lead singer and guitarist of the massively successful band, Nirvana, committed suicide on 5 April 1994. Nirvana’s first two albums were modest sellers, but 1991’s Nevermind, headlined by the smash hit single Smells Like Teen Spirit, was a multi-platinum monster. Nirvana’s final gig, on MTV Unplugged, produced one of the biggest selling live albums in history. Within three years of the release of Smells Like Teen Spirit, Cobain was dead, unable to handle fame or his increasing drug addiction. This is a story about what might have been.