The list topper will of course be:
Kurt Cobain who I mourned for 2 weeks; the crying only stopped 3 days after I learned of his death. He
died on April 5, 1994 and the news hit us on April 14. I had to ask somebody (actually we had to think of reasons to go to the capital town) to buy a magazine for me (we call song hits)
so I can get some news. I was 14 and rebellious and was in-love with almost all rock stars of my time. Kurt Cobain was the it and he died too soon as I only discovered his music from our little town with static-filled NU 107.9 broadcast 5 months before his death. It was too soon. Like a big heartbreak I never expected.
THEN.
Shannon Hoon, who also shockingly died in October of 1995 (October 15, to be exact) and
gave me such fear in the future of my other rock stars. I half expected they would all start dying, one by one, annually after. But they did not. As the next death came tragically rather than shockingly, when in May 29, 1997 the lovely…
irrational. No, actually I found the news incredulous then they explained further…that he was drunk and maybe even high. But how high can you get? High enough not to even feel you’re drowning? Then I gave up. I don’t want any death news anymore.
Then BOOM.
It came. This…this…this news that I have been WISHING not to happen. This fear.
That…it happens. They all. When you least expect it. Like a heartbreak at your 20th birthday.
Layne Staley made the news. His decomposing body was found in his house somewhere.
(Believed to have)
Died in April 5, 2002. same date as cobain’s. his body was found 2 weeks after. Months before that there was news that he’s being closely watched by immediate families and close friends (like jerry, for one) because a recent death of a sexual partner (that’s how specific it is, really) made him quite suicidal. Then he really dies. It’s almost surreal. Like a big second heartbreak you never expected. But then I was busy with my own sexual life and breezed through his death painlessly, without tears, but little sad discussions with friends and drunken wallows in Melly’s after.
I watched Would’s video in STC with much nostalgia following that.
(but years after, I watched it in amazement and incredulity at how the bad, seemingly unwashed hair of
these grunge guys ever magnetized my hormones)
Elliot Smith, whose death on October 23, 2003 (at least in time, but in wiki it says
October 21) remained
unaswered and unresolved but undoubtedly PAINFUL and whom I failed to make a death anniversary post because my boss got here on the 22nd and another came on the 23rd and series of crazy things to do in the office followed. But I loved him and I continue to be mesmerized by his songs because waltz #2 helped me survive my last days in UP Manila. When I
was on the verge of developing acute depression. But I guess they are not always meant to stay. Like out youth and our good times.
So.
Good bye.
