Just as punk is not even ironically dead anymore, so, too, has grunge been utterly pulverized by the nature of corporate grafting (as best exhibited by Urban Outfitters). Of the sort that reached a new height after California-based auction house Julien’s Auctions came to find “a rare paper plate” in its hot little hands. As the auction house stated, the plate was “accompanied by a typed, signed letter of authenticity from Johnny Riggs of the band THUD stating that his band played before Nirvana at the [9:30] club that night. Cobain had eaten some pizza before the show and proceeded to write the set list on the plate he had been eating his pizza on. Riggs managed to obtain the plate when they were done performing.”
Hmm, however he “managed to obtain the plate” seems hazy at best. Or maybe it’s crystal clear that he was some kind of creep with a penchant for predicting the heights that celebrity obsession with Kurt Cobain would reach. Yet one has to assume that whoever shelled out the $22,400 for it seems likely to be in the Martin Shkreli category in terms of “how connected” he (or she, to be politically correct) actually is to Nirvana’s music.
Considering that Cobain’s suicide (to those of the non-Courtney Love conspiracy theorist bent) was largely driven by reaching a point of too much disgust with fame and becoming a public piece of property, the selling of this pizza plate is right up there with putting his suicide note on a t-shirt and selling it. Because what could appeal more to one’s sense of being “hardcore” (other than, of course, a paper plate touched by the Grunge God himself)? Perhaps had Cobain known what would become of that plate attached to a D.C. pizza purveyor (the slice of which he ate–a performer needs his strength, after all–before the show they played at the 9:30 Club in promotion of Bleach, back in 1990), he might have just thrown it away. And ripped it to shreds before so doing so as to mitigate the presence of the setlist. For one can feel him rolling over in his grave anew from that sense of ickiness that comes from such a weirdly specific violation of privacy. Just as he must have about four years ago, when his deactivated credit card was also up for grabs. Because there really is no rest(ing in peace) for the (emotionally) weary.
