The underground is dead. Long live the underground!
n 1991 I saw the logo of the band Nirvana on one of the tables in our school. A classmate named David had drawn it on there with a marker pen. David wasn‘t usually a guy I was on the same page with. He uses an old Converse shoe as a pencil case, wore torn jeans, and his hair had turned a garish shade of green after a failed dye attempt. Musically, however, we regularly exchanged ideas - about Skinny Puppy, Dinosaur Jr and the metal band Death, for example. For this reason, I memorized Nirvana and had the name ready the next day when I first saw the video for „Smells Like Teen Spirit“ on MTV after school. There are few things I remember as clearly from my school days as that moment - the energy that came across in the song, the insane video, and that completely outrageous mix of raw violence and pop. I couldn‘t know it at the time because something new seemed to be starting for me and
