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Monday, April 05, 2004 

Kurt Cobain killed himself ten years ago today (and no, he wasn't murdered). Man, do I feel old. Considering the way that most rock critics have salivated on Nirvana's legacy over the past few years, I was expecting another round of hyperbolic accolades on this anniversary. To my surprise, most of the pieces I've read have showed restraint.

One of my favorite things written about Kurt Cobain was penned by Pete Townshend, rock's premiere survivor. It's taken from his review of Kurt's diaries that were published last year:

"It is desperately sad for me to sit here, 57 years old, and contemplate how often wasteful are the deaths of those in the rock industry. We find it so hard to save our own, but must take responsibility for the fact that the message such deaths as Cobain's sends to his fans is that it is in some way heroic to scream at the world, thrash a guitar, smash it up and then overdose.

Read this book to see that the human spirit, even at its most sublime, can effect monumental damage on itself and its fellow souls if addiction enters the story. I mourn for Kurt. A once beautiful, then pathetic, lost and heroically stupid boy. Hard rock indeed."

Read the rest of it here.

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