From Nirvana to Soundgarden, take a tour of Seattle’s legendary grunge music sites and vibrant scene. Photo / 123rf
From Nirvana to Soundgarden, take a tour of Seattle’s legendary grunge music sites and vibrant scene. Photo / 123rf
Thirty years after the death of Kurt Cobain, Seattle’s music legacy lives on. Discover everything from the city’s key grunge sites to its music scene, including the best vinyl shops and the newest bands, writes Tara Wells
Each generation reveres a different musical mecca, turning cities into song-tinged spiritual experiences. Mine spurns mop-haired Liverpool and hip-shaking Memphis. Instead, flannel-wearing Seattle thrums in my imagination as home to the 90s grunge sound. My aural heart has led me here seeking echoes of bands like Pearl Jam, Soundgarden and Nirvana.
My pilgrimage coincides with the 30th anniversary of Nirvana lead singer Kurt Cobain’s death. Give or take, that’s also how long I’ve wanted to visit, despite knowing nothing about the city itself. For others, Seattle is synonymous with Starbucks’ founding and six months of drizzle. They see — weather permitting — Mt Rainier in the nearby Cascades lording over the city. There’s the working harbour, summer-ready cruise terminal and ample parkland reflecting the city’s Puget Sound location. But the Seattle I seek is a specific breadcrumb trail of bands that started here and exploded on to the world and my psyche.
I’m not the only one. Downtown, a couple of couples gather around Charity Mulligan, owner-operator of Stalking Seattle. Lifetime resident Charity is taking us on a deep dive to music history sites that’ll test a grunge fan’s true mettle.
Squeeze a bunch of music lovers into a grey Dodge van for three hours and you’ll soon realise exactly where you sit on the fandom scale. At one end, the couple from the UK know the big radio hits by the most popular bands. At the other, the United States pair have watched every grunge music doco ever made. From the other side of the Pacific, I sit both in the front passenger seat and somewhere in the middle. Which is good because Charity starts reeling off first names without any liner notes for us to decipher who they are.
There’s “Andy”, “Kurt”, “Layne”, “Chris” and “Eddie”. Lead singers all; four out of five dead before their time. (Later, when Charity refers to local record store owner “Steve”, I think I’ve missed a band reference? “Oh no,” says Charity, “Steve’s just Steve.”) It’s a roll call of Seattle bands: Mother Love Bone, Nirvana, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam … not forgetting Temple of the Dog, which was Chris plus Eddie minus Andy.
First stop: Andy. That’s Andrew Wood of Mother Love Bone, whose 1990 overdose death shook up the local music scene emotionally and literally. A year or so earlier, Andrew had posed for a photo at Kerry Park, which is where we are now, in the leafy neighbourhood of Upper Queen Anne. He’s facing down the camera, arms outstretched, in front of a 5m-high abstract steel sculpture. Like his photographer, our group faces the sculpture to take snaps. Every other sightseer at Kerry Park faces the other way, towards one of the best views of the Space Needle-defined skyline and harbour.
Over nine more tour stops — alleyway rehearsal spaces, first-gig venues, music video recording locations and more — that’s what it feels like to see Seattle via its grunge music legacy. There’s the city the way it wants to be viewed today — slick, cosmopolitan, grown up — and then us, looking the other way, to how residents lived it: the dingy bars, back alleys and rough edges.
The tour is not recommended for children, even if their parents have purchased them a Nirvana T-shirt from a fast-fashion retailer. There’s too much talk of drug addiction (heroin then, fentanyl now) and suicide. We see the modest beige apartment block in the University District that Layne Staley, Alice in Chains lead singer, holed up in the years prior to his overdose death. Then we move on to one of Seattle’s finest waterfront neighbourhoods, Denny Blaine.
“We’re going to Kurt’s now. From one great place to another; it’s a very uplifting tour,” says Charity dryly. Because we know how Cobain’s story ended. So do the mourners and gawkers who have turned the sole park bench in tiny Viretta Park, neighbouring the late singer’s final residence, into a makeshift shrine.
The sole park bench in tiny Viretta Park, neighbouring Kurt Cobain's final residence. Photo / Getty Images
Traces of the musical past and present scene collide at Central Saloon. Established in 1892, the long, skinny bar in historic Pioneer Square bills itself as the city’s oldest. About 100 sweaty people can pack in to see bands perform on a low-rise stage filling the back wall. Seattle record label Sub Pop signed Nirvana after seeing them here. Soundgarden, Mudhoney, Alice in Chains … they, too, were here. Hand-lettered posters of their gigs adorn the wall. Keeping it old school, chalk scrawl marks the Central’s upcoming gigs on a blackboard: 22 shows over the next 35 days for those seeking the raw energy of live music.
When I slide into a brown-laminate booth at Linda’s Tavern on Capitol Hill, the last place Kurt Cobain was seen alive, I seem to be the only tourist. It’s midweek and still early, so most drinkers are in the rear courtyard enjoying local craft beers on tap. The waitress is as old as the venue — 30 — both born a few months before Cobain’s death. But she knows my question because someone asks it just about every shift she works … where did Kurt sit for his final meal? She indicates the last booth near the bar. From my seat on the upper split-level, I could have caught eyes with him.
Central Saloon was established in 1892, and the last place Kurt Cobain was seen alive. Photo / Getty Images
At Cyclops Cafe in Belltown, there’s more tangible Nirvana evidence. A former drinking hole of the made-it-big bands, the bar’s countertop is decorated with resin-filled inlays. They’re loaded with paraphernalia like dice, Scrabble tiles, marbles … and Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic’s wisdom teeth.
The objects that best represent a zeitgeist are considered more deeply at the Museum of Pop Culture. It has an entire exhibition dedicated to Nirvana, from Cobain’s oversized cardigans to Dave Grohl’s drum kit and the 1989 Sub Pop record contract. It’s easy to spend hours here, with exhibitions including guitars of famous owners and another dedicated to Seattle’s other musical son, Jimi Hendrix.
Seattle’s Museum of Pop Culture has an entire exhibit dedicated to Nirvana, including Kurt Cobain’s famous cardigans. Photo / 123rf
It’s not until I enter London Bridge Studios, a half-hour drive north of downtown, that I feel I’ve entered a church of sorts. Its uninspiring location belies the long list of iconic albums that were recorded here, including Pearl Jam’s debut Ten, Temple of the Dog and, a musical scene later, Fleet Foxes’ self-titled debut. On a guided tour with sound engineer Meggie Lisha, I tread Turkish rugs that absorb sound, run my hand along the glistening grand piano used on my favourite recordings, la-la to myself in the vocal booth, and sit in the producer’s chair in front of a vast panel of faders.
What comes next is what Charity warned me could bring on the Kleenex … hearing the cleanly recorded, unadulterated voices of “Andy” (Wood, Mother Love Bone), “Layne” (Staley, Alice in Chains), “Chris” (Cornell, Soundgarden/Temple of the Dog), and “Eddie” (Vedder, Pearl Jam … the only still alive). I’ve just been in that vocal booth and now, through studio-quality speakers, I hear them all sing again. The sound is so clear, so close, that I hear minuscule movements of lips and tongue. I hear the deep inhale of singers long gone as they fill their lungs to belt out their next note. The voices reverberate through my chest, down through the years, and out into living Seattle.
Where to listen
Easy Street Records, West Seattle — Long-time supporters of the local scene, stickers mark albums by local artists. Pearl Jam have performed live here and they regularly host music events and live gigs. An on-site cafe encourages lingering.
Spin Cycle Records, Capitol Hill — Serious about vinyl, there are also cassette tapes for sale and music documentaries on VHS.
Sub Pop, Belltown and Seattle-Tacoma airport (departures side) — Albums and merch from bands represented by the record label, plus plenty of its own-brand souvenirs.
Pike Place Market in Seatlle. Photo / Unsplash
Where to stay
The Kimpton Hotel Monaco Seattle is more alt rock than soulless synth pop. Within walking distance of Pike Place Market, the hotel has a personality rarely seen in global chains. The on-site Outlier restaurant serves Pacific northwest ingredients and cocktails, while an in-room yoga mat acknowledges that your travel priorities may have changed since the 90s.
