Here We Are Now
By Charles R. Cross. It! Books, 177 pp, hardcover

Kurt Cobain has been having a hell of a year. In his hometown of Aberdeen, Washington, Mayor Bill Simpson proclaimed February 20 (which would have been the Nirvana frontman’s 47th birthday) to be Kurt Cobain Day. That occasion was marked by the unveiling of a statue of the late rock star, who is depicted as a seated figure playing an acoustic guitar, with a tear streaming down his face. (The sculpture, by Aberdeen artist Randi Hubbard, has been described as “hideous”, “sad”, “weird”, “bizarre”, “terrible”, and “creepy”—and that’s just the first page of Google results.)

Earlier this month, a prankster claiming to be Cobain’s former roommate made headlines when he posted an ad to Craigslist offering to sell some of the singer’s old possessions. Then police in Seattle released previously unseen—and remarkably uninteresting—photos from the scene of Cobain’s suicide, which sparked rumours that they were reopening the investigation into his death. (They weren’t.) More photos emerged, of the Los Angeles apartment Cobain shared with Courtney Love in 1992, which the reigning king and queen of grunge had left in a suitably trashed state.

And on it goes: fans have started an on-line funding campaign to purchase Cobain’s childhood home and turn it into a museum; Life magazine published a book-length special issue titled Remembering Kurt Cobain: 20 Years Later; the New York Times ran a travel article detailing “must-see” Cobain sites around Washington state; a Dutch brewer released an eyebrow-raisingly tasteless TV spot which posits that Cobain, Elvis Presley, and other dead celebs are actually hiding out on a tropical island. Next month, Cobain and his Nirvana bandmates Krist Novoselic and Dave Grohl will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Given all that, one could easily argue that the man is as relevant now as he was during his all-too-brief life. That’s precisely what Charles R. Cross does in Here We Are Now, which bears the subtitle The Lasting Impact of Kurt Cobain. The timing of the slim book’s publication is possibly exploitative—it coincides with the 20th anniversary of Cobain’s death on April 5, 1994—but Cross makes it clear that the fallen idol and his legacy are still important to him.

And not just him, but the culture at large. The former editor of the Seattle music paper The Rocket reveals that the seed for the long-germinating Here We Are Now was planted by, of all people, Larry King, who cold-called Cross the day Cobain’s body was discovered. “Tell me, Mr. Cross,” King asked, “Why did Kurt Cobain matter?”

This is not a biography, but an attempt to finally answer King’s query by looking at how Cobain has affected the music business, the fashion industry, and the addiction and recovery communities, both during his life and after it. Cross makes the case that Cobain’s influence is still profound two decades after his death. You don’t need this book to tell you that; you just need Google. Here We Are Now is not an essential read for Nirvana fans—unlike the same author’s definitive 2002 biography, Heavier Than Heaven—but Cross’s genuine love, and empathy, for his troubled subject is palpable, and that alone makes it worthwhile.