Daron's Guitar Chronicles Volume 12

1042 Rock Bottom

Rock Bottom

Up to that point I had not spent much time alone with Barrett. I felt we knew each other pretty well–or at least that he knew me pretty well–by osmosis, through Ziggy. He'd been there through a lot of my ups and downs–mostly downs. I think we were often somewhat careful around each other, though. We needed to get along with each other and if keeping a little distance was conducive to that then so be it.

But that meant it was a bit weird when it was just the two of us in a car for an hour. Especially when there were a couple of big topics we were avoiding. He really didn't want to make me talk about my mother's terminal illness and I really didn't want to bring up anything like, oh, Ziggy's pending tour of Japan.

So we made somewhat awkward small talk for about half the ride which, as you can imagine, was excruciating. Then we got onto a topic that was at least a little bit safe: Lollapalooza, which was in its second year.

Have I talked about Lollapalooza before? It was a touring alternative music festival cooked up by Perry Farrell, the lead singer of Jane's Addiction. Jane's had headlined the first year, along with Siouxsie and the Banshees, Nine Inch Nails, Butthole Surfers, Fishbone... a real who's who in "alternative" at that time, clustered heavily around the nexus I think of as the punk, which crosses over to ska and goth. It was one of the only bright spots in the otherwise mediocre ticket sales for most live shows in '91.

By year two, Jane's had broken up and the Lollapalooza nexus had moved to grunge.

"Did you see who's headlining this year?" Barrett asked. He was still wearing the suit he had slept in on the plane. I was taking him to a hotel on the far side of Nashville from the airport.

"Red Hot Chili Peppers, but I didn't pay attention to the rest of the list," I said. I'd had other things on my mind.

"Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden. I mean, yeah, there's still Ministry and Luscious Jackson but they are all-in on grunge. As you'd expect."

"Isn't the whole industry all-in on grunge?"

"You'd be surprised. Some think it's a fad like the Watusi or something."

"Isn't the Watusi a dance move? I confess I don't know which one."

"Yes, and that's exactly the point. But the people who think grunge is going to just be a blip on the radar are wrong. These are the same people who don't stock enough copies of the Nirvana album and then are pissed off when they can't get more from their warehouse because the demand is so high everywhere."

I kept my eyes on the road but I wanted to roll them. "Sounds a little bit familiar."

"Doesn't it? I kind of wonder if Moondog 3 isn't the only band whose sales were suppressed by a mismatch between retailer expectations and consumer desires. I think it was the whole quote-unquote alternative genre, and now they're finally waking up to realize oh wait, the so-called alternative is actually the center, not the fringe, of where rock music is right now."

"You know this all makes me think M3 was just a year or two too early."

"I know." Barrett yawned and shook himself like a dog. "The bands playing the side stage at Lolla are really fascinating. Tool, have you heard Tool?"

"No, tell me about them?"

"More polyrhythmic than Led Zeppelin, full of suspended chords. The anger in their presentation gets them lumped with metal but you could really almost call it prog rock."

"That sounds kind of familiar, too."

"I know. I tried to sign them but they already have representation." Barrett cracked his knuckles.