Musical reconmission: Seattle | Washington 

Is there still life in grunge, or are plaid shirts the only thing that remains? What has taken its place, and where are all the record stores? These questions are all we needed to book a flight to The Emerald City. 

Words and photos by Jonas Larsson

The old grunge joint The -Crocodile is in a different place than I remember. I blame my own lousy memory. But after hanging out with Stephen, the Zion’s Gate record store owner on Capitol Hill, he confirms that The Crocodile has – indeed – moved.

Stephen is a great guy who has run the store for 19 years. “I don’t have a favorite place to go see bands anymore. They’ve either disappeared or been remodeled,” he says with a wry smile. “It’s usually Neumos because it’s close, I guess.” We laugh and agree that that’s the way it is, and that you have to just suck it up. But don’t feel bad for Stephen; there are plenty of good spots here on Capitol Hill. 

Gig 1

I, however, will be on the move to go see a gig this evening. The Brothers Comatose are playing at The Crocodile, so I  know it will rock. Cowboy hats will be on, hay bales will be flying. Ok, that last one won’t happen, but it would be fun. 

I am meeting a friend before the concert, to get some food. We set our sights on The Pink Door, an Italian classic in Post Alley near Pike Place Market. When we get there, it’s completely packed, but the place looks very nice. Situated half a flight of stairs down, the restaurant is enormous, with trapezes hanging from the ceiling, where on which circus artists occasionally perform. We regroup at the tiny bar across from it, The White Horse. A sign on the door says: “Whisky Bar, Home of the strongest drink in Seattle.”  “No ice, no mixers” is their motto. We each order a beer and a bourbon. The size of the shots in this city makes me instantly hold on to the counter when they land in front of me; me, holy moly! 

“If you want a traditional steak dinner, go to the -Virginia Inn up on the corner of 1st Street,” the bartender says when we ask him about nearby restaurants. The Virginia Inn has been there for as long as I can remember, and I have walked past it countless times but never eaten there. We are not disappointed. The bar counter becomes our table for the evening, and soon, we have two rib eye steakes in front of us. They are the most perfect – and perhaps largest – I have ever been served! Virginia Inn is one of those restaurants you see in movies, typical American. Go here when you visit.

Punk basements and crocodiles

“I know an old punk bar on the way; we can have a beer there,” my friend says. The entrance to The Screwdriver is downstairs; a basement club, that is promising. The walls are full of old posters, stickers, and scribbles. It’s a time machine back to my nights in basement clubs in the early 80s. The night has started well, but it’s about to get even better. 

When we arrive at The Crocodile and go through the metal detector, the band is already on, and the place is packed with people of all ages. AJ Lee and Blue Summit unleash their soulful blend of country, soul, and rock. AJ Lee sings like an angel and plays her mandolin so beautifully that it makes a goofy smile spreads across my face. The others in the band are tight and skilled musicians, and it’s really good. The California-based band is completely unknown to me, but I dig them immediately. 

Then, the Brothers come on stage. Cowboy hats are on, trucker hats are on, a cheerful mood is on: the joint is alive, the crowd roars. Everyone dances and sings along. Towards the end of the almost two-hour long gig, they do a cover of a local band, something they always do. But what’s even cooler, they bring up a girl from the audience to sing one of their songs, which she does to the cheers of the crowd. They end by bringing up AJ Lee from the opening band act to perform a couple of songs together. The Crocodile is alive and well.

Back in the day

Many American cities want to call themselves “Music City”: Nashville, Atlanta, Memphis, New Orleans, Austin, and others, and rightly so. Different styles flourish in different cities, and here we can add another city to the bunch, The Emerald City – Seattle. The music scene here goes back a long way and has been complex and varied. After World War II, much of the music scene revolved around The Showbox Ballroom on 1st Avenue downtown. It was also home to just about every shady pastime you can imagine. A few dollars helped the police look the other way. Meanwhile, in Chinatown, a vibrant jazz scene was emerging in places like The Black and Tan Club. 

A quick jump to the 1960s, when Seattle’s own James Marshall Hendrix, better known as Jimi Hendrix, goes unnoticed by everyone. Only when Jimi moved to -England and was managed by the bassist of The Animals, Chass Chandlers, did he get his breakthrough. Soon, he has three top ten songs in England: Hey Joe, Purple Haze, and The Wind Cries Mary. Three real firecrackers, and at last he becomes a prophet in his own country. With his album Electric Ladyland, he swept to the top of the American charts. Jimi died at 27 in 1970 and is now a statue on -Capitol Hill in Seattle. 

But what really put Seattle on the music map was grunge. Personally, I was hooked after hearing the opening guitar riffs on “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” Nirvana’s album “Nevermind” sold out everywhere in Stockholm, but I -finally found it. I think it was the last vinyl record I bought, before vinyl made a comeback. 

By the end of the 1980s, grunge had started to evolve out of the punk scene, mainly inspired by the gay glam theater group Ze Whiz Kids and member Tomata du Plenty, who, after a successful stint in New York, had returned with his boyfriend Gorilla Rose (solid names) and formed the punk band The Tupperwares in 1976. They were soon followed by other hardcore punk bands, such as Solger, and The Fartz, who played at The Showbox (the same venue where post-war bands played) and The Bird Club. This, together with the Sub Pop record label, was the primary basis for the grunge movement. More on the contemporary music scene later. 

The day after the day before

The next morning, I wake up a little later than planned at the beautiful Palihotel. The evening with The Brothers Comatose ended in the hotel bar with some newfound friends from Portland. But even though the hotel bed is comfortable, I pull myself out of it. After a revitalizing shower, I soon find myself outside the Biscuit Bitch, my new breakfast spot. The air is a bit chilly, but the down jacket and the warm smile of the amazing Madison, who works at the Bitch, keep the cold away. Soon, I have a cup of coffee and a Bitchwich in front of me — a biscuit with sausage, cheese, and egg. Ready to start the day.  

I walk down to the waterfront and the ferry that will take me to West -Seattle. Transportation in Seattle is -excellent. When I landed at the newly renovated airport, I took a local train into the city, which was smooth and very cheap. There have been electric trolleybuses here for as long as I can remember and there are ferries across Puget Sound, and Uber works great. 

My friend is waiting when we land in West Seattle. Parts of the day will be devoted to record stores; sure, an occasional dive bar may also occur – more about that in future articles. 

Easy Street Record Store is a record store that doubles as a café and bar. You feel it immediately when you step over the threshold, people who love music work here. The range of records in all genres, new and used, is huge. Upstairs, we chat with one of the guys who works here. After discussing various artists for a while, he asks, “Would you like a coffee by the way?” The guy is a mind reader, apparently. We sit down at the bar and are served an espresso each. Good coffee, great place. It’s more like a club, an adult daycare for music nerds, than a store. West Seattle is a nice neighborhood. 

Family reunion at Sunset Tavern and Gig 2

That night, I’m meeting my cousin Steven and his wife -Amber at The Sunset Tavern in the Scandinavian neighbor-hood of Ballard. I have been here many times. My grandmother used to live in Ballard, and I have seen it change over the years. The Sunset has also changed – for the better. 

They have a bar in the front room and gigs in the back room, perfect. I run into Steven and Amber as soon as I walk in. “Hey, you missed Smokey Brights, but two bands are left; let’s go in.” Tonight, Smokey Brights, Night Heron, and Mega Cat are playing. Even though I missed one band, the other two are great. The Sunset is a small and intimate venue with the kind of gigs I like. We are close to the stage, everyone is close to the stage, and Steven, who has a radio show, “Locals Only,” is in his element, of course, as all three bands have local roots. 

There is both a great interest in music in Seattle and plenty of good music to go around; it permeates most things. 
One night, we had dinner at the excellent Vons on 1st Avenue, near the hotel. There are some people sitting around us; one guy is wearing a Fender cap, and another a hat with the hip radio station KEXP, which I’m about to visit the next day. I’ll also make a Fender-related visit to one of the best guitar shops on the West Coast. It’s a bit like seeing the future through trucker hats. 

Radio station 1

KEXP is located near Seattle’s most famous building, the Space Needle, erected for the 1962 World’s Fair. KEXP is an incredibly cool place, a mixture of a radio station, a university library, a coffee shop, and a record store. The -station is a non-profit organization with roots in the University. You can listen online worldwide, and it is considered one of the top independent radio stations in the country, -maybe in the world. 

But what strikes me is the place itself. In the large open space, people sit around having coffee, studying, checking out records, or waiting in line to be an audience member for a live show on one of the shows. Today, it’s The New Pornographers from Vancouver, Canada. I grab a coffee and talk to Chantelle, who works there. “You should go to the New Pornographers gig,” she says. It sounds tempting, but I have a meeting in half an hour. KEXP is a place where I would hang out if I lived here. 

Guitar Mecca

“Meeting” wasn’t entirely true; I’m seeing my cousin -Steven, who’s taking me to Emerald City Guitars. The shop is downtown in a back street, and we meet there. “Trevor’s in LA delivering a guitar to some celebrity, so he’s not in the shop, unfortunately,” Steven says. 

Trevor Boone, the shop owner, has made a name for himself worldwide for having the best vintage guitars and knowledge of old music stuff. So much so that he occasionally delivers the instruments personally to celebrities who can’t make it to the shop. 
Emerald City Guitars is an experience, even for a guy who mostly gets his fingers stuck in the strings. There are guitars everywhere, a lot of other instruments, amplifiers, and technical gadgets that I have no idea what they are, but primarily guitars. Nice guitars! 

People are playing here and there, and it’s a great -atmosphere. The feeling that I am now really in the middle of the turntable spreads through my body. I can’t play at all, but I want to be able to, want to be able to come here a couple of afternoons a week, talk guitars with the staff and try different guitars that I can’t afford to buy. You get it – the feeling. 

Radio Station 2 Locals Only

“I’m actually a bit nervous. I never am, but this is Damien Jurado! I’ve never gotten an interview with him before.” Steven, ordinarily cool as a cucumber, looks slightly stressed and excited as he sits behind the wheel of his car. We’re on our way to his studio in downtown Seattle, where he’ll interview Jurado. “Play something with the this guy; I’ve never heard him,” I say. Steven fiddles with his phone, and soon, a fragile, instantly recognizable voice can be heard. It’s excellent and very Seattle. Now I’m getting curious. 

“Hey man, thanks for having me.” Damien is waiting for us in reception. “I don’t do interviews anymore; it’s always the same questions, so it feels a bit pointless. But I like your show and how you highlight our local talents.” Steven’s expression is a mixture of happiness and horror. I interpret it as happy because he is one of the few to get an interview with Damien and a little anxious about asking trivial questions. Damien exudes a calm warmth; if he were an animal, he would be a friendly bear. “I thought I’d let you request one of your songs as the first song,” Steven says. “I’d rather you play this band that’s from around here, if that’s okay?” The longer the interview goes on, the more we realize how caring and genuinely friendly this guy is. He cares about the local bands. I’m taking notes like crazy on which bands are playing until Steven, with a wry smile, says during a song, “I’ll give you a list later.” 

Cooling off at Dickís 

When the show is over, we go to Dick’s (see issue 13) for a cheeseburger. After these days in Seattle, where I’ve seen a lot of great bands and met so many people interested in music, it seems natural to ask someone who only plays local bands once a week how the music scene is doing in the Pacific Northwest.

I ask Steven to tell me about his radio show on 107.7 The End and the music scene here from his perspective. 
“The show is two hours of the best music from the Pacific Northwest. I focus on newer bands, but I also play older music, such alikes Nirvana, Modest Mouse, Chris Cornell, and Pearl Jam. 

107.7 The End was one of the first radio stations to play grunge when it came out. I want my show to be a platform for new bands from this part of the US. You’ve seen and heard a lot of bands now; quite a few good bands are from here. I want them to have the opportunity to play on the station that is “The Champion of Grunge,” the style of music that everyone associates with Seattle. 

Take that show we saw yesterday, they’re all local bands. I’ve never heard of them, even though it’s my job, and they were all outstanding. The fact that I can do a show every Sunday for two hours where I don’t play the same music very often tells you how much variety there is. 

I got an email from a band in Cle Elum the other day. They want to come and play at my show. Cle Elum is a tiny little place up in the mountains. Damien lives in Stanwood; there’s nothing in Stanwood! He records his albums in Everett, where I live. There’s great music everywhere! I want to highlight many things about this part of the country, but the music is a good reason to live here or to visit.” 

There is no mistaking the pride of being part of a vibrant music community. It’s not just Steven; I’ve seen it in the eyes of record store owners, musicians, and -especially in the eyes of the audiences that fill the venues every night. The Grunge may have taken a break, but the plaid shirts are still there, and the Emerald City is still going strong.