A Role of Many Definitions
Former Nirvana Bassist, Krist Novoselic, Talks to Troubled Teens (Oct. 99)

By Jeff Burlingame

As the intense lankiness that is Krist Novoselic rises from his metal chair and heads toward the podium, it's easy to see he's a tad nervous.

Not that the uneasiness is shocking. Earlier, Novoselic told friends he was feeling a bit anxious. Funny, he said, that the butterflies never reared their heads while he was performing in front of thousands as a member of Nirvana. But speaking in front of 300 at a high school function brought the winged beauties out in droves.

Perhaps it's because Novoselic's life has traveled a path eerily similar to the twisting, diverse roads most of the students of the Raymond (Wash.) alternative high school have trekked.

"I'm moved to see young people in situations of adversity overcome it," Novoselic says, a tinge of nervousness still twitching in his voice. "I can totally relate to that."

Like most of the students, Novoselic's life has been as dizzying as a carnival ride. Over the past five years, he's been in the middle of a twisting wind storm that has carried him from the high every wannabe-rocker who plays air guitar with a broomstick dreams about, to lows people also dream about; but those dreams typically come in the form of sleep-halting nightmares. As he puts it, Novoselic has been working to define his own role in the aftermath of Nirvana's tragic demise, which came abruptly and, some might say unexpectedly, on April 8, 1994. That's when the band's leader and nouveau deity, Kurt Cobain, was found dead in his Seattle home.

"Sometimes, I see myself as St. Peter after the ascension," Novoselic says. "Over the last five years, I've been focusing on having a whole life and being real."

Novoselic knows better than most the rewards "being real" can bring. It's the very attitude that made Nirvana famous, prefacing the band's meteoric rise to the top of the music charts. For better or worse, that disposition never left the band after it hit.

As far as most care or bother to talk about, Nirvana's climb began in 1989 with the release of its first full-length album on Sub Pop Records. The underground popularity gained with that record, Bleach, initiated a major label bidding war, eventually won by Geffen Records. In 1991, Geffen released the album, Nevermind. That one recording knocked the remainder of the '80s hair-metal bands from the charts. That one recording also changed music forever.

An album of covers, rarities and B-sides, Incesticide followed, as did the multi-platinum In Utero. And international tours. Network television. Magazine covers.

But Cobain's death modified all that. Though he rarely speaks in public about his longtime friend and bandmate, Novoselic touched lightly on the subject of Cobain.

"The deification of Kurt Cobain is a phenomenon in itself," he says. "This phenomenon has played itself through human history with many personalities. The lesson for me is to let people have their idols and to stay out of the way ... "

The popularity of Nirvana and the effect the band has had on this decade is profound. "I feel like people's connection with Nirvana has propelled me into a role of many definitions."

Past success would easily allow Novoselic to rest on his laurels. But, true to his words, his new life role has indeed been varied. Don't cry for Krist, Argentina. He's got plenty of projects to occupy his time. He's doing public speaking and has even dived into the film-making business, his first venture being, "L7: The Beauty Process," an art film about the band L7 filmed and directed by Novoselic. He's also involved with JAMPAC, a political activist group focused on-- among other things-- supporting artists' rights and freedom of expression.

Novoselic hasn't shunned the recording end of music, either. He's still heavily absorbed in Sweet 75, the rock band he formed with Yva Las Vegas, In that band, he plays a six-string guitar rather than the bass he strummed so hypnotically with Nirvana. He's also involved in a second musical project, Sunshine Cake, and finds time to do philanthropic work. He's enmeshed in Seattle's political scene and, like he's doing now, he'll occasionally find time to speak in public.

Novoselic will never have to worry about money; multi-platinum success and royalties have made certain of that. He and his wife have an expansive house on a Seattle hilltop and a multi-acre farm in Southwest Washington. For a hobby, Novoselic bought a 35-foot, 46-passenger Pacific County Transit bus, which he is developing into a makeshift motorhome.

Surprisingly, fame and fortune have done little to remove the down-to-earthness growing up in small-town Aberdeen, Wash., instilled. The idea to have Novoselic speak at this gathering came when the alternative school's director, Dan Raymond-- who drives tour bus for the Melvins in the summer-- called and presented Novoselic with the idea.

For student Tim Patrick, 20, there's never been a better notion.

"That was a rush," Patrick said after Novoselic's speech. "I think everybody here is in kind of a shock that he came."

After signing autographs and posing for photos, Novoselic remains humbled. "I just hope what I had to say will have an impact on someone."

Jeff Burlingame is the entertainment editor for The Daily World in Aberdeen, Wash. He can be reached at (jeff@thedailyworld.com).

Also in Pandemonium Online:

Dave Grohl and Krist Novoselic Live Photos

Kill The Lights, Pando's Seattle music column

The Day the Music Died
Jeff Burlingame remembers his childhood friend, Kurt Cobain

Billy Bragg's Reaching To The Converted
The improbable beauty of Billy Bragg's falsetto calls you to the Mojave phone booth, in this CD Review by Andrew Hamlin

Nine Inch Nails' The Fragile
The new disc from Trent Reznor is "a glorious, magnificent, life-affirming, soul-scorching, wings-giving, head-cleaning statement of art and ambition," says Reef Valmont in this in-depth CD Review

God Is From Seattle
Gail Worley talks to legendary industrial drummer Bill Rieflin about his recent solo album and life after leaving Ministry

There is Only One Type O Negative
Gail Worley interviews Johnny Kelly of Type O Negative

Slipknot: Serial Killer Metal from Iowa
"If Charles Manson grew up on the new jack metal scene and had an appreciation for Slayer – he might've been a founding member of Slipknot," says Bushman in this unguarded interview