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letra de long courtney - the narcissist cookbook

[verse 1]
okay
i wanna tell you guys a story about a band called nirvana
you probably know this story already, but whatever
they were a good band, man, a really good band
they had this awesome third album, lost them a lot of fans, though
had this great track on it called “tourette’s” that went
“ba da ba na na na na nam na na na na nam”
doesn’t really work over these chords. anyway… i’ve totally lost my train of thought
uh…
oh yeah!
kurt cobain’s dead, and i’m reliably informed that

[chorus]
courtney did it!
she did it!
courtney did it!
ah, courtney k!lled cobain!
she did it!
courtney did it!
courtney did it!
courtney k!lled cobain!

[verse 2]
i don’t know why we blame it on her
it seems easy to say “courtney love is capable of murder”
without havin’ much of anything to back that up
i might be goin’ out on a limb here but, mm, i think
society doesn’t seem to like women at the best of times
but we really get mad when they f-ck our rock stars, you know?
“kurt cobain belongs to us,” we cried
so naturally when he died
everybody said
[chorus]
courtney did it!
she did it!
courtney did it!
ah, courtney k!lled cobain!
she did it!
courtney did it!
courtney did it!
courtney k!lled cobain!
ma da ma na nam ma diddly da na na
ba diddly da na na na na

[verse 3]
she raised that kid on her own
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
she’s got problems
don’t we all have problems that would be exacerbated by living life in the public eye?
need i remind you, this poor human bein’ lost her husband when she was barely twenty-nine
and we repay her—how?—by hassling her on twitter f-ckin’ seven hundred times a day
her phone goes ping. ping. ping. ping
ah, ninety-nine percent of the time it’s sayin’ the same thing, it’s sayin’

[spoken]
good evening, courtney love. it is i, mkultratruther99, and you will be no doubt be nervous to learn i have been carrying out an independent investigation into the mysterious circumstances surrounding your husband’s suicide
kurt cobain’s suicide note is four paragraphs of a man preparing to leave you and retire from the music industry followed by four lines at the end in different pen, in different handwriting, in which he talks about suicide
pretty weird, courtney. pretty weird. not incriminating on its own. however, following your husband’s death, in your possession was found a piece of paper on which you had been practising his handwriting. what had you been practising? you had been practising the last f-cking four lines of his suicide note
how do you explain that? i’ll tell you how i explain that, oh!
[chorus]
you did it!
you did it!
just admit it!
you k!lled kurt cobain!
you did it!
just admit it!
just admit it!
you k!lled kurt cobain!
kurt cobain, kurt cobain
k!lled kurt cobain, kurt cobain, kurt cobain

[spoken: the narcissist cookbook, crowd]
no, no, no
i need to stop you there
footnote number f-ckin’ three
buckle up
it is convincing. i know it’s convincing. i’m convinced by it more often than i’m not, but then i am, uh, dumb
i am vulnerable to these kinds of stories
there is a question that smart people ask themselves every day. multiple times a day. i would go so far as to say it is the question that keeps a smart person smart. i ask myself this about…
what year is it?
uh, maybe, maybe twice a decade
what. if. i’m. wrong
what if i’m wrong, what if reality is exactly as it seems?
what if 9/11—
close the f-ckin’ doors!
n0body leaves!
i have the microphone now!
what if 9/11 was not an inside job carried out by the american military-industrial complex against its own people to justify a series of power grabs in the middle east? what if it was just the reaction to decades of aggression, centuries of imperialism?
what if jfk wasn’t murdered by his own government, he was murdered by one man, one lonely, confused man who preferred the reality inside his head to the reality outside of it? i can relate to that. who wanted to be a hero? i can relate to that, too. who probably died not understanding why he wasn’t a hero, and why everyone was so f-ckin’ mad at him?
kurt cobain had a genetic predisposition to, in no particular order, substance abuse, paranoia, depression, anxiety, not to mention he was a member of the music industry. these qualities put any single one of us at particularly high risk of—anybody?
suicide!
ah, new york’s into it!
you never know, some places are like, “suicide? i don’t know.” jesus
there, suicide. simple, boring. most boring of all. it just makes sense. but we are vulnerable to these kinds of stories. partly because if you stack enough of these stories one on top of the other, you block out the bigger story, and that is that we are marooned out here. we are stranded on a rock in the middle of nowhere. bad things are gonna keep on happening to good people, like you, until one day, the best thing is gonna happen to all the worst motherf-ckers at once
an asteroid will hit. maybe we’ll start a nuclear war. maybe we won’t put enough money into developing new antibiotics and vaccines and some sort of super virus will wipe us all out, i don’t know
i don’t know. can i shrug for the back of the room? like, i don’t know
doesn’t matter. maybe those things won’t happen. maybe the ice caps will melt. maybe they won’t, doesn’t matter. one day the sun will explode and there is no hope of rescue or escape because who is there to rescue us? where is there to escape to?
we are not taught how to deal with these things. we are left to our own devices. to come up with ways of distracting ourselves
end footnote
s-x and drugs and rock ‘n’ roll!
you know what? new york doesn’t seem that into that. i don’t know why
“excuse me, mister, uh, cookbook. we are the cultural epicenter of the world. we don’t do s-x, we don’t do drugs, we don’t do rock ‘n’ roll anymore. we have this new thing called ‘squirererlb.’ you wouldn’t know what it is, but check back in with us in 2027.”
that’s just what works for most of us. for some of us that is not enough, and those are the people who fly passenger jets into skyscr-pers. those are the people who blow up presidents. those are the people who load up on guns and splatter their brains out all over the family home while people like me, the intrepid keyboard detectives willing to say the things that no one else is willing to say—’cause we can see the things that no one else is willing to see—will explain to anyone who paid twenty-five dollars to listen
[chorus]
that courtney did it!
she did it!
courtney did it!
ah, courtney k!lled cobain!
she did it!
courtney did it!
courtney did it!
ah, courtney k!lled cobain!
kurt cobain, kurt cobain
k!lled kurt cobain, kurt cobain, kurt cobain
na na na na na na na

[outro]
she raised that kid on her own

[spoken]
thank you so much. i’m the narcissist cookbook
i will see you again, god willing!

- the narcissist cookbook

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