Today is April 5. Today is the day Kurt Cobain died. Today is also the day Layne Staley died.
I came of age in the 90s – I learned about sadness, about anger, about love and greed and jealousy and compassion in the decade where political correctness was a trend, where the slacker generation was trying to figure out what to do with the frustration and discouragement they felt. Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden opened up music for me in a new way, and I will be forever grateful for that.
But Alice In Chains spoke to me in a way the others didn’t.
I was standing in my friend Anna’s living room when the news of Layne Staley’s death broke – I remember it scrolling across the screen and I was just heartbroken. I don’t often feel connected to celebrities – their lives are so unlike mine, and I recognize that they are not actually people I know, just people whose faces I see in the news. 12 years later, though, I am still devastated. Perhaps it’s simply because of the loneliness of Staley’s life at the end. But in listening to the AIC catalog, I realize now how incredibly anxious he was about life. And death.
Oh Layne Staley we love you get up.
Rachel’s Poem at the PFFA: I Am What I Am: A Natural Disaster
Someone Else’s Awesome Poem: Frank O’Hara’s “Poem [Lana Turner Has Collapsed!]”