I grew up first in Marysville (forty minutes north of the city) and as a young teen moved to Seattle. About 3200 miles from MA.
It was an awesome time to live in Seattle. It seems cliche but I correlate it to living in SF in the sixties. It was just perfect. The music, culture, people, art... Everything clicked. Coffee shops that were also art galleries that hosted concerts at night. Everything was all ages. The drugs were cheap.
Watching Nirvana play Moby Dick for the fist time (after a killer Ned\'s Atomic Dustbin opener) was the first time in my life that I said to myself "you are witnessing something special". I knew immediately that these guys were gonna make it and simultaneously wanted it to happen for them and desperately wanted it to fail so we could keep it all to ourselves. I would regularly skip school or leave early to find someone to drive to bum-fuck nowhere for house parties. Get high as a kite and watch my favorite bands.
We went to tons of beach parties in South Seattle (then and still now an uglier, grittier, industrialized area, where we could have beach parties without being shut down by the cops. Kegs, generator, halogen work lights... Instant concert. two bucks for a cup. four or five hours of music, wake up on a rocky beach. Good times.
Thanks for asking btw. I\'m having a hell of a good time thinking about all this. It\'s been long while since I\'ve gone on a Kurt bender! Giving Bleach a third spin on the turntable right now... Oh yeah, in all it\'s sub pop, first pressing, vinyl glory!