Kurt Cobain's Death Site: Seattle, Wa.

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Re-Pass Tale: Kurt Cobain’s House, Seattle Washington
Thursday, July 26, 2010

Perhaps if he’d called it “Tickle Me”…

Kurt Cobain, grunge music’s anti-hero, took his own life (well, most would say, anyway) April 8, 1994, some 16 years ago. His understated, yet swank, Madrona house is located on the banks of Lake Washington, the large body of water that forms the eastern side of Seattle, and visiting it on my way out of Seattle would (at least) my 3rd gravesite visit of the trip (Author Raymond Carver and Hendrix being the other two).

As I drove to 171 Lake Washington Blvd. East, parking the car in the free, small lot just north of the house (the grassy area, lined with tall trees and featuring a decorated bench reveal the spot), I reflected on Cobain as both a person and a singer. As a person, he was the classic “tortured artist,” painfully long on talent and short on patience. I’ve read his own posthumously-published journals, and several biographies about him. His personality reflects not only his artistic curiosity, but also, somehow, the toughness of the Pacific Northwest and its many demands. He certainly had his highs as well, and, much like REM, was catapulted to the top rather quickly, with no time for the “roots” to be separated from the “chafe,” especially concerning attitude.
Interestingly, I feel that I was a bit too old and/or interested for “grunge,” but certainly many around me in Athens, Ga. were many friends who wholeheartedly endorsed the band, eagerly diving into their early catalogue. I enjoyed their M-TV videos, and who can argue that “Smells Like Teen Spirit” doesn’t, in fact, smell like it. I never really listened to the deeper cuts, although the box set that came out a few years ago is of interest.

As Sophie bounced about, I viewed the bench, which is (somewhat) modestly decorated with graffiti, bracelets, and general positive well-wishings or thanks to Kurt. As I hiked up the 100 or so steps to check out the front of the house (the entire property’s view, in general, is obstructed by tall, well-landscaped trees), my primary thought was, “I bet that gunshot that day really disrupted this nice and peaceful neighborhood.”

From the front street, peaking through a break in the bushes at the famed “gooey spot,” I kind of got the willies, as this, when compared to the other two gravesites, had produced a body through violence.

In any case, particularly for fans, this is a must-see stop if in Seattle. So, come as you are, and leave your thoughts and tears in heart-shaped boxes…

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