Mister Faded Glory | misterfadedglory.com

You might notice in the links to the right, ladies and gentlemen, a fellow named Eric Conner. He writes for AOL’s NFL Sportsblogs (Not sure if I’m a fan of that whole idea yet). Regardless, he is a Colts blogger — and a very good one.

What does this mean? Besides MFG never getting a football gig with AOL, all it means, silly, is that Mister Faded Glory is no longer your only stop for weeklyColts‘ head-scratching or screaming playoff game diatribes.

And, with the NFL poised again to launch next week, you can expect a lot more Colts stuff here. When the hiatus ends, of course. Personally, I’m just giddy at the prospect of the upcoming season — if only because of the Cubs’ death spiral. Yep, normally the NFL sneaks up on me, because I’m focused on baseball and can’t handle the hype machine without games. This season, however, I’ve been counting down. Giddy, indeed. However, not sure if it’s excitement — or sheer nerves.
Read more

Welcome back, you enthusiastically greet Mister Faded Glory.

Yes, it’s good to be back, he lies.

But nonetheless, the pilgrimage to Seattle was all things — fun, illuminating, relaxing, and refreshing. Instantly, the Emerald City (or Queen City, depending on who you ask) has become one of Mr. Faded Glory’s favorites. Rather than bore my loyal readers (yes, both of you) with tales of my trip, however, I’m checking in just briefly for now. The novel will be complete sometime next week, and I’ll resume a semiregular blogging schedule after that.

Above is a picture of one of two memorial benches in a small park nearly adjacent to Kurt Cobain‘s former Seattle home and site of his suicide.

The shabby, scruffy park is memorialized with chicken and Sharpie scratches on its two benches. It exists somewhat — well, completely– off the beaten path, in an affluent area of Seattle. In fact, approaching the park is a surreal feeling. It’s readily apparent that the park stands for Kurt, it’s out of place. It’s a tiny, tattered lawn with ramshackle benches and few lush trees, residing in a wealthy, elaborate Seattle neighborhood. But it’s there. It’s barren. It’s dilapidated. It’s askew. It’s eerily quiet. And, it’s, forever, Kurt’s.
Read more

Obviously, today’s Grungedown is significant not only just for capping off the most inane and meaningless drawn-out narcissistic countdown in history. Rather, in addition the crown also is another feather in the cap of the greatest, most precisely “grunge” band in musical history. Not only that, the countdown’s end marks the very week of Mister Faded Glory’s long-awaited pilgrimage to the ascribed promised land of Seattle, where “everything is cool.” Thursday!

Before we get to it, though, I gotta get something off my chest. See, I’m somewhat of a musical — nay, grunge only — snot. And, untrue to form, throughout this countdown, I’ve been admittedly notorious for the inclusion of some seriously ‘mainstream’ songs – and say what you will about grunge or music elitism, usually I skew choices more towards my personal favorites rather than incorporating chart success, subconsciously or overtly.

However, I realize that I didn’t skew that way here, and this may have led to some dissension and backlash among selections (I know, quite the uproar), mainly because several of the songs have been staples on Power/Edge/Laser/Killer 1990s rock stations for the better parts of 10 years. (I.e., Mad Season’s I Don’t Know Anything instead of Wake Up; Nirvana’s Come As You Are instead of Lounge Act; and the complete and total omission of Soundgarden’s Mailman in favor of cuts from BadMotorFinger). So if I haven’t opened you up completely to any revelations from grunge bands’ back catalogs, I apologize. Even further, in a lame attempt to rectify the situation, tonight’s number one arrives complete with a B-side in tow, from the same album.

Grunge countdown

No. 1 . . .

(drum roll)
Read more

Can you believe it? It’s just one week until Mr. Faded Glory makes the pilgrimage to Seattle, Washington. One week!

Sadly, that’s not a segue. Right now those pesky Barenaked Ladies are running through your mind, but campy song classic One Weekstill isn’t on this countdown. Look for it later in the year, though, on “Top 25 songs that made us all want to commit suicide in late summer 1998.” On to Number 2 in our grunge manifest:

Temple of the Dog, Hunger Strike.

Chris Cornell‘s swirling and epic tribute to late Mother Love Bone singer Andy Wood resonated for months upon its chart entry in 1991, gaining notoriety and thundering into the rock landscape during grunge’s 1992 explosion. Though the band is the current lineup of Pearl Jam, the album has Cornell‘s unmistakable fingerprints all over it, and was a landmark grunge release entertwining the two superpowers, albeit under the umbrella of Wood‘s demise.

The plucking, methodical opening guitar chords are instantly recognizable 15 years after its release — still inspiring chills in followers of Mother Love Bone, Cornell, Soundgarden, and to an extent, Pearl Jam.

The entire Temple of the Dog record is outstanding — Chris Cornell, Matt Cameron, Jeff Ament, Mike McCready and Stone Gossard mesh almost seamlessly as the memory of glam-band and charismatic frontman Wood fades (or burns) into memories. The iconic guitar solo and clash-of-the-titans vocals between Cornell and special guest Eddie Vedder revealed a picturesque interplay, between guitar, mourning, wailing, thinking, and hesitance. Hunger Strike remains a classic not just for its place in grunge music and Seattle history — but rock and roll history in general.

Even today, “I don’t mind stealing bread,” and “I’m goin’ hungry,” two bizarrely innocent phrases, instantly create a mind landscape of the song — I can still remember where I was when I first heard Hunger Strike. I was 14, and wasn’t completely obsessed with Seattle – though I loved Nevermind, and Ten, but treated them more as casual listening rather than Biblical reverence. I played a lot of basketball, mowed a lot of lawns, and ran around a lot on a Trek 820 that summer. Somehow, one summer day, I was home, laying face-down on the couch, snoozing during an afternoon. We were remodeling the porch or something and were taking a short break in the afternoon. (Yes, ironic, isn’t it? Remodeling the porch!)

Anyway, I had flipped away from the video previously a few times during the summer during MTV‘s “Rock Blocks,” which was their theme. (You remember – Club Block, Rock Block, R+B Block. It was Block Party Summer. Somehow, EMF‘s Unbelievable! was a strong enough song to transfer freely across any Genre Block, but, you know, we were dumb.)

You remember the lasting images of the video, right? You know, the one with the lighthouse, Cornell in full-Jesus mode, a flannel-clad Vedder emerging from the weeds to deliver his cameo. The bonfire between PJ and SG at the end, as the day closes. Well, that video came on as I was napping, my eyelids briefly fluttering as I caught the lighthouse, heard the opening guitar stanza, and decided before drifting off in time with Cornell‘s opening lines to leave the remote be.

Through my sleep, somehow, the picturesque guitar opening, the crescendo of Vedder and Cornell’s respective deliveries, and the landmark chorus burned into my head — so much so that I rolled over, off the couch, fell flat on my back, and my braces bit my tongue. It was that memorable.The first time I really heard Hunger Strike — a masterpiece — and I still pause every time I hear the song. The next day I joined Columbia House just to get Temple’s album, along with ten others, for a penny!

I don’t know that I still consider Hunger Strike even my favorite song on Temple of the Dog (Possibly Wooden Jesus or All Night Thing). I do know, however, there are few songs that still possess the ability to stop me in my tracks in passing, and give me goose bumps during the right listen. Hunger Strike is one of these. Not only the perfect complement to Crown of Thorns (Official Theme Song of Mr. Faded Glory), but a grunge and hard rock classic that deserves its place in the legacy of rock and roll for eternity.

So what could top it? Guess you’ll have to wait ’til Wednesday. You’ll be goin’ hungry . . .

No. 3. Pearl Jam, Porch.

Absolutely and unequivocally Pearl Jam‘s greatest song. In fact, what more can I actually write about this, except to include it as the No. 3 Grunge Rock song of all time. As a personal favor to you, the reader, I humbly include a list of the 10 best performances of Porch of all time. Before delving into that, however, it’s best to mention that Porch is Pearl Jam‘s most explosive song, with perhaps its most intense lyrics, and a furious guitar bridge that often swirls into gentle exposition, furious bursts, or lengthy, improvisational guitar tags. It’s a crowd-pleaser, a show-stopper, and at its core, it reveals a person finally, ultimately, defiantly confident in their own skin. And, if you’ve never spent five minutes on this blog or in person avec moi, you know that it’s a personal favorite song of mine, forever entrenched as a track on the soundtrack to my life. So there.

10. Porch/Dancin’ Around, Sports Palace, Barcelona, Spain, 1996.

9. Porch/Catholic Boys, Kosei Nenkin Kaikan, Osaka, Japan, 1995.

8. Porch, The Gorge, George, Washington, 2005.

7. FunkyPorch, Bridge School Benefit, Shoreline Amphitheatre, Mountain View, CA 1996.

6. Porch/Time to Realign Your Mind, Sports Arena, San Diego, 1995.

5. Porch, The Academy, New York City, 1992. (Live in NY 12/31/92)

4. My Generation (Favorite Station)/Porch, Riverside, Newcastle, England, 1992.

3. Porch, Astoria Studios, Queens, NY (MTV Unplugged) 1992.

2. Porch, Volkshaus, Zurich, Switzerland, 1992.

1. My Generation Blues/Porch, Target Center, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 1998.

What the hell is with one of my favorite bands?

Tool has a fall tour. I live in the sticks. I can only go to certain cities.

Aug. 30 – Denver. Right after I spend my vacation time. Thanks.

Sept. 15. Kansas City. Oh, really? My fellow Tool fans can trek four hours to see a show the night before the annual UI / ISU game.

Thanks, guys. Really.