Seattle's music scene, 25 years later

I've previously discussed buildings (still standing) that were key sites in the old Seattle rock scene. 

This time, let’s look at the “scene” itself, then and now.

It is, after all, the 25th anniversary of Nirvana’s “Nevermind” and Pearl Jam’s “Ten,” the albums that brought the scene to global mass attention.

Back then, there was still a powerful corporate music industry to try to break into, to rebel against, or both.

The music world, and especially the business of music, have changed vastly since then.

Recorded music has almost ceased to be a mass-market sales commodity.

Paid downloads, the business model that was supposed to save the major labels, have also faded in favor of streaming sites that pay very little to artists but are still, in many cases, losing millions of dollars every month.

But people are still making, recording, and releasing new music.

It’s just that more and more of them have to do this without corporate backing.

And the legacy of the “Seattle scene” era of the 1980s and 1990s holds some valuable lessons in how to do it.

From Sub Pop and PopLlama to K and Kill Rock Stars, the indie labels of Seattle and Olympia championed the notion of musical artists in charge of their own art and their own careers. Their acts devised their own songs, their own images. They kept creative control over what to record and how to record it. They hired their own cover designers, or designed the record covers themselves. Many acts booked their own tours.

What did the indie labels do? They put these recordings into stores. They advertised and promoted them. They attached their own brands to those of the acts. 

And the best of these labels helped to guide their artists — not to impose an image or style on the artists, but to help them make their own recordings the most accomplished and the most popular they could be.

At the time, this Do It Yourself approach was an alternative to business as usual.

Nowadays, DIY is the main way to make music.

Seattle’s current top act, Macklemore and Ryan Lewis, built their whole business plan around producing and releasing their own recordings (albeit with distribution and promotion partners). 

As Sir Mix-A-Lot said in the KCTS-aired hip-hop documentary “The Otherside”: 

“When I came along, the process was pretty simple, once you got discovered. You produce the record, you deliver the record, they come up with a way of promoting you, of defining you. You could either agree or disagree; if you disagreed, you’d probably get dropped… Now you can go home today, make a great record, put that record out, and start socially interacting with people and defining yourself. To me, that’s beautiful.”

* * *

As for the music itself, there never really was a single “Seattle sound,” despite what clueless national media claimed at the time. Alice in Chains was vastly different from Mudhoney, which was vastly different from Bikini Kill, which was vastly different from the Fastbacks. And none of them sounded like the Tiptons Sax Quartet.

Seattle music today is even more diffuse and more diverse.

We’ve got great hip-hop artists, some of whom blend soul/R&B and electronica/dance influences into their beats and vocals.

We’ve got electronic music artists ranging from the eminently danceable to the deeply experimental.

We’ve got international and multinational bands that take “world music” out of the mellow easy-listening mode and into ear- and eye-opening adventures.

We’ve got highly personable singer-songwriters, backed by music that’s acoustic, electric, electronic, or all three at once.

And yes, we’ve got bands built around electric guitar shredding and wailing rock vocals. 

Only these days, a lot more of the shredding, as well as the wailing, is done by women.

And these acts are supported by a healthy infrastructure of clubs, festivals, websites, podcasts, radio/TV airplay, and indie record labels old and new.

The Seattle Public Library’s gotten in on the act with Playback (playback.spl.org), where you can stream a selection of 50 full albums by a wide swath of local artists.

Seattle music has more than survived the collapse of the national music industry.

But can it survive the real estate boom?

Several stores, performance/rehearsal spaces, and hangout bars/cafes affordable to DIY musicians have already been lost to development and gentrification.

Where can they go?

Promoters in Everett have launched the Everett Music Initiative, to support musicians moving north with year-round gig opportunities.

Besides, in Everett people still wear flannel, and do so unironically.

CLARK HUMPHREY is the author of “Walking Seattle” and “Vanishing Seattle.” He also writes a blog at miscmedia.com.