Non piango spesso, oggi rileggendo queste parole mi è capitato. Probabilmente conoscete già la lettera che Kurt Cobain lascia al mondo prima di morire il 5 aprile di tanti anni fa, ma l’effetto che produce ogni volta è stranamente diverso, come se dipendesse dallo stato d’animo del lettore. Forse è la sincerità totale di queste dichiarazioni o forse è il pensiero che un uomo stava morendo. Oggi, nel leggere la lettera, che questa mattina ho sentito dalla voce di Emilio Pappagallo di RadioRock, mi sono commossa immedesimandomi nella figlia o nella compagna. Era un uomo, oltre che un musicista e forse è stato ucciso anche dalla sua stessa passione, la musica, che come un boomerang su di lui è tornata a colpire pesantemente. Mi fa riflettere. La popolarità e il fanatismo a volte possono distruggere il senso artistico. Ne lascio traccia in inglese perchè è lingua originale. Alla fine del post troverete il link per la versione italiana.
di Kurt Cobain morto il 5 aprile 1994
Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complainee. This note should be pretty easy to understand. All the warnings from the punk rock 101 courses over the years. Since my first introduction to the, shall we say, ethics involved with independence and the embracement of your community has proven to be very true. I haven’t felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music along with reading and writing for too many years now. I feel guilty beyond words about these things. For example when we’re backstage and the lights go out and the manic roar of the crowd begins it doesn’t affect the way in which it did for Freddy Mercury who seemed to love and relish in the love and adoration from the crowd. Which is something I totally admire and envy. The fact is I can’t fool you. Any one of you. It simply isn’t fair to you or me. The worst crime I can think of would be to rip people off by faking it and pretending as if I’m having 100 % fun. Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch in time clock before I walk out on stage. I’ve tried everything within my power to appreciate it, and I do. God, believe me I do but it’s not enough.
I appreciate the fact that I and we have affected and entertained a lot of people. I must be one of one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they’re gone. I’m too sensitive. I need to be slightly numb in order to regain the enthusiasm I once had as a child. On our last three tours I’ve had a much better appreciation for all the people I’ve known personally and as fans of our music, but I still can’t get over the frustration, the guilt and empathy I have for everyone. There’s good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much. So much that it makes me feel too fucking sad. The sad little, sensitive, unappreciative, pieces Jesus man! Why don’t you just enjoy it? I don’t know. I have a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy and a daughter who reminds me too much of what I used to be.
Full of love and joy kissing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point to where I can barely function. I can’t stand the thought of Frances becoming the miserable self-destructive, death rocker that I’ve become. I have it good, very good, and I’m grateful, but since the age of seven I’ve become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along, and have empathy. Empathy! Only because I love and feel for people too much I guess. Thank you all from the pit of my burning nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I’m too much of an erratic, moody baby! I don’t have the passion anymore and so remember, its better to burn out than to fade away. peace, love, empathy.
Frances and Courtney, I’ll be at your alter. Please keep going Courtney For Frances For her life which will be so much happier without me. I Love you. I love you! Kurt