What’s most effective about Greg Prato’s in-depth homage to the 1990s Seattle rock scene, “Grunge Is Dead,” is that he doesn’t state the obvious. Yes, the impact of Nirvana and the struggle of Pearl Jam vs. Ticketmaster are documented here, but we also learn that insiders thought Soundgarden, not Nirvana or Pearl Jam, would be the first breakout band from Seattle. That Sub Pop was run by two in-debt goofballs. That Alice In Chains’ Layne Staley was a gentle, funny man, who seems to be more fondly remembered than Kurt Cobain by those that knew him.
“Grunge Is Dead” is constructed as a serious of quotes, with little connective tissue besides short chapter introductions. The reader might find the construct a bit random for starters, but a narrative starts to reveal itself as the timeline progresses and the speakers react to each other. Prato’s research and interviews are impeccable. From the dirty, do-it-yourself all-ages scene to the smarmy major labels sweeping in, it’s all here, including the heroin that killed Andrew Wood (Malfunkshun, Mother Love Bone), Layne Staley, and, to an extent, Cobain.
Interviews with Staley’s mother, the members of Alice In Chains, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden (nothing here from Chris Cornell, however) are illuminating. It is interesting to see that even in a city now known for music, it was once a struggle to get people to embrace original music. And as punk began to morph into grunge, thanks to bands like Green River, a precursor to Pearl Jam, a schism formed between the punks and the metalheads. Soundgarden and Alice In Chains straddled that line, and the book reminds us that Soundgarden (reluctantly) toured with Guns N’ Roses, and Alice opened shows on the Clash of the Titans tour (Slayer, Megadeth and Anthrax).
Bands like Mudhoney are recalled with particular warmth by most on the scene. Soundgarden is widely admired, too.
The events leading up to Staley’s death — he knew he was hooked, he knew he was going to die, and he didn’t want help — are vivid and poignant. Prato stays out of the way and allows the people that were there to tell the story. The comments from Staley’s mom, in particular, are troubling. Her position is that her son was killed by the record executives, managers and industry types that encouraged his habit by keeping the band on the road despite his obvious issues.
Publicists, promoters, journalists from the underground paper The Rocket and studio producers and engineers are given their say, too, helping paint a fuller picture you wouldn’t get if the book was only made up of celebrity interviews.
Like most scenes or movements (see also hippies, punk, rap and metal), corporate America got involved and everything went to shit. Labels capitalized and signed anything remotely grunge. The band Candlebox, in particular, is ripped unmercifully, and possibly unfairly, by Vedder and others in the book for being a “grunge lite” act. Eventually the scene became bloated, and it collapsed.
Fans of grunge music, even those with extensive knowledge or memories, will learn from “Grunge Is Dead.” And if you’re a casual observer who thinks grunge was simply about flannel and suicide, here’s an opportunity to set yourself straight.
Rating: W W W 1/2
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