It was 1995 and I was going to be a rock star. The band would meet in Jason or Dave’s parents’ garage a couple of times a week and run through our set, mostly originals, but with a couple of covers thrown in for good measure (and because our originals probably weren’t so great). I don’t remember a great deal of the actual practices, but I certainly remember the feeling of them, what it felt like to be a group of determined teenagers holed up in sweaty, musty garages on hot summer days in Seattle. Everything felt possible, and we were sure, as only teenagers can be, that we were the very first people to ever feel this way.
We all had different musical tastes and desires - gaps that become too large to bridge, ultimately, and broke us up a couple of years later - but we could all agree on one thing when gathered together in those old garages: we loved to play this song.
So, Mudhoney, for all of the other things they bring to mind for one raised in Seattle during the craziness of the ‘grunge’ years, always remind me most of this. Playing this song, and seeing this song played (I saw a lot of Mudhoney shows in high school, including a free outdoor one at the park outside of the Space Needle that remains my favorite memory of them live). For a few moments in my life, everything made sense, and everything rocked.