GREENMUSE is a regular reader and fan contributor at antiMUSIC, the views expressed here don't necessarily reflect those of antiMUSIC or our sponsors, but we are sure you will enjoy what he has to say! 

(From antiMUSIC Editor Keavin Wiggins) Before we get to Greenmuse's latest musing, it must be pointed out that this month marks a milestone. It was in February of 2001 that Greenmuse first shared his wit, remarkable imagination and his colorful personality with us here at antiMUSIC. Since that time we have had many adventures with Greenmuse. As this latest installment of his musings illustrates, he has only gotten better with time.  To Greenmuse, thank you for bringing your special personality to antiMUSIC, it would not be even close to the same without you.   Ok, enough of my blathering, let's get to this month's column where Greenmuse unravels one of the biggest mysteries of the ages. 

This Ain't Your Daddy's Behind The Music

Ahoy droogies and welcome to this latest installment of my column. Hope all is well and Jack Frost isn't nipping at your nose too much. Not to brag but its nice a warm here in the green lair. Its been so warm in fact I've had to the turn the a/c on and further indebt myself to Florida Power and Light, who have oh so graciously decided to pass the expenses of maintaining their systems during the hurricane season on to us! I see how it is, when everything's fine and dandy the capitalist system works, but when they need help, they want a commie share fest to deal with the cost on their end. If I have trouble paying my bills are they going to share my cost among the state's users? No. So why should it be the other way around? But anyways I digress from my childish not wanting to pay my bills to the real point of this article. Now I say as a sort of preemptive warning. This is only a joke to lighten your day. Don't take things so seriously and you might live longer, be happier and who knows, perhaps even keep erections longer. So with that out of the way I want to let you in on a little secret... . . I know who killed Kurt Cobain! That's right I know the perpetrator. Courtney love you can return to your seat, you're off the hook on this writer's article... Well mostly. 

Picture it. It's 1990 and things are going great. You've got so much money you can wipe your ass with 100 dollar bill and not even flinch. You've got more groupies than the entire population of Montana has citizens. Your genitals alone are home to no less than 5 incurable STDs and 4 of which no one has ever seen before. Your guitar player plays solos that stuff every note known to man into a 2 bar measure and people love you even more for it. Then in September of 1991 the death knell to all this comes in the form of some grubby guys in flannel shirts and a goofy ass video of a high school pep rally gone horribly wrong! "What the heck is this supposed to be?" you ask yourself as you finish defiling the latest groupie in the back of a lavish tour bus. These guys are ugly, they can't play and who knows what the heck they are saying! This video has no pyro and skanky dancing girls(though the cheerleaders in anarchy clad outfits will always hold a special place in my heart) and most importantly where's the spandex and pouty lips? ? ? !!

This is what Jani Lane and Marc Slaughter in particular were thinking when "Smells Like Teen Spirit" broke out huge on MTV and radio. And rightfully these guys were pissed. Slaughter and Warrant were late comers to the hair metal scene and this "grunge" music as it was called cut their party a lot shorter than it should of been. Bands like Motley Crue and Poison had gotten to push the very levels of rock n roll excess but poor Warrant and Slaughter were like the ugly fat kids who come late to the cafeteria and no one will let them sit down. Sure they had their fun. But they didn't have enough fun in their minds. Eventually the record companies booted their previous cash cows for any group of kids in flannel shirts with guitars. Overnight Jani and Marc were paupers. Unlike a lot of the hairbands who had a good couple of years under their belt, Warrant and Slaughter didn't have a mountain of cash that no amount of coke, hookers, or combination of the two could dent. 

With the sudden death of hairmetal Jani and Marc were on the streets living the life of regular working stiffs. Jani eventually found a job impersonating himself at a tourist dinner and show type thing, he didn't dare reveal his true name as nobody would want to see the real Jani Lane, not even drunken tourists singing along to Jani's lip synching of "Where The Down Boys Go". Oh how it hurt to have to lip synch the very tune that used to get poodle haired 80's whores to throw their undergarments on stage, now to chubby tourists laughing and pointing while their Nirvana t-shirted clad kids threw peas at him and loudy ordered a slice of "cherry pie, they want a smile on their face ten miles wide" Then giggling insanely. Day after day Jani lived his life like this, not even the female impersonator playing Lita Ford would give him the time of day. Yes things were indeed dark for dear Jani. 

Things were no better for Marc Slaughter; in fact, they might be described as worse. Marc bummed around in a few jobs, mostly food service jobs. Where he was the butt of many jokes for hair and his tight jeans. Finally one day he saw a newspaper ad wanting actors for adult films. Finally he thought he would be back in his element, sure he wasn't playing music anymore but the music was always secondary to hair metal. It was really all about getting it on. But Marc's hopes were dashed on the rocks of despair by the porn actors guild who lobbied to keep new actors out of the game so they could control more of the talent. Marc was offered a job as a fluffer, which he quickly took. After all he didn't mind fluffing pillows and making beds, even with the soil of sweaty bodies it was better than working in a food court. Again Marc was disappointed, his new job had nothing to do with pillows and everything to do with something else. It wasn't a proud time in Marc's life, but at least he felt his boyish good looks were being put to good use. Soon however, he tired of this new career and answered an ad for a good looking 80's musician type for a dinner and show. Marc got the job as they told him he looked just like the guy from Slaughter. 

One night after Marc's performance of "Up All Night, Sleep All Day", Jani knew this fellow had to be the real deal; nobody could toss their quaff like Marc Slaughter. Jani approached Marc to ask if it was really him, at first Marc denied it but after a few whiffs of aqua net he admitted his identity. Jani took Marc to his janitor closet which he called home where they watched MTV in hopes of reliving the glory days. Head Bangers Ball was on and Jani and Marc had finally found refuge from grunge... . Or so they thought. It just so happened that this particular episode of the Ball had Nirvana on as guests, there Kurt was chatting with Riki Rachtman in his famous yellow ball gown. This was the breaking point for Jani and Marc, it was one thing to wear make up and use women's hair products, it was another thing entirely to actually wear a dress. First Kurt took their fame, then he took their cash, now he was taking their dignity! Jani and Marc knew then they must kill Kurt Cobain and get all that he took from them back. 

According to shady anonymous members of the 80's Conspiracy, Jani and Marc traveled to sunny Seattle to find Kurt in a room shooting heroin with a shotgun beside him. Jani and Marc drew their weapons as the morning sun caught the white of the aqua net cans with a sinister gleam. The hair pair let loose with a CFC fueled fury that still lingers over Seattle to this day. Kurt in an attempt to protect himself fired the shotgun, the blast ignited the aerosol fumes, instantly incinerating Kurt's face. Just that moment Courtney Love walked by holding a notebook with calculations of how much she stood to gain with Kurt's death. She thanked Jani and Marc for saving her the trouble of doing the murder herself by having sex with them both not 10 feet from where Kurt lay. The trio then basked in the afterglow by figuring out how to screw the remaining members of Nirvana out of as much as possible. 

So there you have it. The 80's metal hair-Queda Terror Network is just as real as the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy, the 80's Conspiracy and the Atkins Carb Liberation Front. These are desperate people lacking scruples and decency. As time goes on they will only become more vicious and embittered. They cannot stand what we stand for, it is like sand in their spandex that we don't like mascara wearing, poodle haired walking penises up on stage anymore. They are angry the synchronized guitar waving back and forth in videos is long dead. Yes folks this is the new normalcy, it's just a matter of time before they strike again. 
 

Greenmuse loves to hear from you, post a message below or send him an email at greenmuse@antimusic.com (he does get some rather strange emails from time to time... there was this one from a 14 punker girl who asked him if he wanted to...) 
 

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