The first time I ever heard of the band Soundgarden, I was 15 and dating a boy who was way too old for me. He was sort of a moron. But I only figured that out in retrospect. Skinny 15 year old girls aren’t the sharpest breed. He used to play me music. And while he introduced me to some of the absolute foundations of rock ‘n roll, he also managed to squeeze out some crap.
I won’t go in to naming all the crap because I am sure that someone reading this will happen to ADORE one of the bands I call “crap” and I don’t make it a habit out of consciously hurting people’s feelings especially by referring to their taste as “crap”. Just take my word for it, it was crap.
One day, we were in his room and he put in a new c.d. he had been listening to on repeat. It was called “Louder than Love” by a band called Soundgarden. He wanted me to hear one very important song called Big Dumb Sex.
The lyrics went like this:
- Hey I know what to do
- I’m gonna fck fck fck fck you
- Fck you
- Ya I know what to do
- I’m gonna fck fck fck fck you
- Fck you I’m gonna
Charming, I know.
After the man on the c.d. stopped jumping the shark, he asked me what I thought of this most excellent, modest tune. I was appalled. I won’t lie. I thought it was by far one of the dumbest songs I have ever had to sit through. How could anyone choose to listen to this song over and over and over again? And so I sat through it a few more times. And I told him what I thought about it.
This song is rad!
I know! I love it!
And that was the first time I had ever heard Soundgarden.
Tomorrow, I start working at a local bar here in Brooklyn. While I’m excited about the adventure, I’m sick and am hoping for some kind of miracle to happen in the next couple of hours so I don’t have to deal with feeling this way while serving waffles to hungover, fuzzy-teethed, Williamsburg hipsters.
I have to be there by 10 a.m. tomorrow morning where I will follow Chris Cornell’s little brother around asking questions (should I have any) and taking orders (should he have any).
When we were there the other night touching base with the owner about some design work I’ve been working on, she introduced me to Chris Cornell’s little brother (who I will now refer to as CCLB because I’d rather not use his real name). Only she didn’t tell me he was CCLB. Instead she just introduced me to him as “This is the guy you’re going to work with on Saturday.” CCLB was wearing a red shirt that read:
Just when I was about to display the word ARROGANT onto the inside of my skull, the owner whispered something to me.
I made him wear that shirt, isn’t that funny?
It really was funny.
Later, she told me that he was CCLB and that he doesn’t really like it when people bring it up so it’s best NOT to say things like “Hey, you look familiar. Are you Chris Cornell’s little brother?” It’s best not to taunt CCLB. It’s not his fault his brother writes presumptuous songs about copulation.
It’s a good thing my tourettes doesn’t recognize Soundgarden lyrics. Because I can only imagine how tomorrow would play out for us both. Now, if only I can shake my Jesus Christ pose so I don’t outshine him. And I really need to do something about this cold and all the runny face pollution. And perhaps I’ll let him deal with all the spoons.