Fall’s rounding the curve here in Seattle and I couldn’t be happier. The light’s already different. Softer. Rounder and more colorful. And not just because we’ve had a few weeks of depressing wildfire smoke wafting in from the Cascades and beyond. It won’t be long and the sun will rise after 7 am. Soon enough we’ll be changing our clocks and bemoaning the short days up here in the northern latitudes. The typical gorgeousness of August and September in the Pacific Northwest held pretty much true to form this year. Which has me taking stock and offering up an overdue blog post for those of you still hungrily Googling for such musings from one of America’s most special cultural outposts.
I’m about to finish up a validating run of Friday Happy Hour tours. I was honored to tell stories to visitors from at least six countries (Canada, England, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and Mexico…although I did also have a group hailing from all over the globe in town for a Microsoft conference). I also had American visitors from a dozen-plus states. The codifying interest in finding a connection with Seattle’s music brings some truly fascinating people my way, even decades after peak commercial grunge. This seems an especially timely nod in the direction of the past as true grunge nerds celebrate the 30th anniversaries of the release of “Singles” (September 18, 1992) and Pearl Jam’s legendary “Drop in the Park” show (today in 1992). That rescheduled PJ show drew 30,000 fans to my namesake, concert-ill-equipped, nonetheless-favorite Seattle park (Northeast’s under-used Magnuson Park along the shore of Lake Washington) after a months earlier plan was scuttled by the City in Gas Works Park (on the north shore of Lake Union). As I often try to emphasize, however, being a nostalgia merchant is just part of this gig. I aim to loop in earlier Seattle chapters while emphasizing that Seattle’s a thriving place where music’s still made with real passion. Look no further than the Bikini Kill show I saw last week at McMenamin’s Elks Temple in Tacoma. That crowd of hundreds was equal parts Gen Z and those of us still staying out somewhat late for Gen X’ers, along with music fans somewhere in between or on the margins (kudos to the parents taking their tweens out…although Kathleen Hannah getting pissed at a noisy cohort up front probably required a fuller discussion on the car ride home).
Rather than forget to mention all of the amazing individuals who came my way over the past few months, I’ll just finish the summary by saying that I thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity to make new connections. This version of my semi-annual mic drop really only applies to my regularly scheduled tours. I’ve got other irons in the fire and those of you who know me understand this move. So if you’re coming through Seattle and want to see if a tour is possible, just give me a holler. I’ll also be typically vague in saying that I’ve got a few new collaborations bubbling up and various evolutions underway. Want to explore something I’m calling Seattle Sports Redux? I got you. Need recommendations for how to better understand what’s happening in the PNW? Look no further. There are plenty of skilled storytellers and principled historians working in Seattle, but I think my flexibility sets what I offer apart. Just sayin’.
Much like Seattle continues to change like a living organism, so does what I’m doing with this side gig. For each vanishing hunk of Seattle (see the long-expected demolition of the block of Belltown north of the Crocodile Cafe’s former home) there’s an occasional welcome patched-up retrieval (see the reopening of the West Seattle Bridge over the weekend which makes it much easier to direct visitors over yonder for worthwhile pursuits).
Before I sign off again, I’ll offer a few random nuggets o’ note that very recently caught my eye. For those who’ve taken one of my tours, you’ll likely see the connections with the material I typically cover while out on the streets of Seattle.
Bust Magazine did a deeper dive into the story of Tina Bell and her band BAM BAM (an early influence on what for some became a defining musical category rooted in Seattle). Bell’s son T. J. Martin has said previously that he’s working on a documentary about her. I can’t wait to see it.
I could go on with the details. But my purpose here was mainly to check in before shifting away from my regular schedule. Once again, I encourage you to reach out with questions about scheduling a special stop amidst your Seattle explorations. No guarantees that I’ll be free, of course. I always respond, regardless. I do what I do, as best I can as a one-man band. Rock on.
No one should aim to dwell too much in the past. But who doesn't love an entertaining ride in the ol' time machine every once in a while? If you set the flux capacitor for 27 years ago right about now, you'd be able to make the grand opening of the Crocodile Cafe (with The Posies and Love Battery on the bill). Looking around Belltown in the Springtime of 1991 might seem delightfully primordial. Or well past prime for those locals who'd grown up going to venues well before the Teen Dance Ordinance starting shutting them down. No one, however, could have foretold that two of the biggest-selling albums of the entire decade (Pearl Jam's Ten released that August and Nirvana's Nevermind in September) would soon come from here. Who wouldn't get a charge out of skipping that rock back to before Seattle largely became an adjective and grunge became a noun in common worldwide usage?
Or what about a trip back to 1989 around the time of "Lame Fest" at The Moore (with Mudhoney, TAD, and Nirvana introducing their first and only Sub Pop album Bleach). Or the turbulent watershed year of 1994 when Seattle's Big 4 (Alice in Chains, Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden) all hit #1 on the then-still-important Billboard Album chart. You could easily wear out the dial flipping back and forth between the dates that could showcase Seattle's unlikely rise and evolution as a music City of sizable awesomeness.
As we leap into May, I've got three tours on the calendar, and another 5 scheduled in June. I'll be on the road in July, but then back in August with a prescheduled slate of tours the week of Pearl Jam's "Home Shows" and Sub Pop Records's sure-to-be epic 30th Anniversary Party. Nothing's rock solid, however, since even the most beloved side projects get shelved when the proverbial band gets back together.
This is, nonetheless, a rather long-winded wink wink nudge nudge way to say that there are available spots on my Happy Hour tour this Friday, 5/4, starting at 4pm. As usual, we'll walk an approximately two-mile path through Belltown and finish up at KEXP's Gathering Space in Seattle Center. The many stops along the way make this a two-hour-plus-a-skoch storytelling journey. Tickets are $50/person, although cheaper as pairs or even more so in larger groups. I'll happily reply with timely answers if you lob back questions. Or I'll send along all the logistical details you'll need if you pick out tickets that appeal to you.
In the past month alone, I was been delighted to lead around folks from Germany, Denmark, Scotland, England, New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Detroit and the Great Pacific Northwest. As always, people ranging from the most casual of music fans to the randomly obsessed lobbed back new insights along the way. Snippets from those conversations and other newly discovered grunge-y gems factor into the storytelling I'll be doing along the way. If you've not yet heard my backstory on this, my love for that era's music developed both prior to and after making my own way out West in 1993. As I like to say (on purpose), "grunge is people." One of these times on this evolving loop around Belltown, I'll figure out just what I mean by that.
But in all seriousness if you're looking for a more tangible sense of what gets covered on my Grunge Redux tours, I've dug deeply for places where the essential music of the mid-1980s through later-1990s was both created and consumed. The course of a few hours gives us time to explore a workable overview of the grunge era in Seattle and beyond. More material will come your way later to inspire additional exploration. I'm happy to proclaim that this ain't no sucky suicide and sadness tour. Although I certainly don't shy away from giving those chapters their due inclusion. I'm just firing up the wayback machine, and hopefully connecting some of the dots you might have missed along the way. With more than a few yucks thrown in. Hopefully.
Whether or not you can make it on a tour, feel free to pass this or future friendly promos along. There are no guarantees of how long I'll be offering this. Passion projects are like that. I'm nonetheless happy to accommodate y'all and any special requests that arise so long as I do.
Regardless, here's hoping we cross paths at a show sometime soon. Be well, and rock on always.