maybe that saying about psychology majors being severely unhinged isn't too far off base. i was ecstatic to see that charles manson had come out with a second album thanks to the creative commons. the cd is called 'one mind' and it's supposed to be better than the first cd that he released. i can't wait to get home and give it a listen. if anyone else wants to join me, let me know, or download it for yourself (legally and free, of course).

“believe me, if I started murdering people… there'd be none of you left!” - charles manson himself.

the jimi hendrix experience

tonight i watched a movie about james hendrix. how he started out, how he started learning to play that guitar in seattle. and it reminded me of something that i had nearly forgotten about.

when i was younger my parents and i went to jimi hendrix's grave on his birthday. we spent the day hanging there. and apparently, we weren't the only ones who remembered. a journalist from the seattle times came as did a man (and i think a woman) who loved the music. my dad and my mom are huge hendrix fans and let's just say that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

the writer wanted to know why we decided to come out. i remember that to me it sounded like a very silly question. why wouldn't you come out? it as the jimi hendrix experience.

the man that was there had brought large pieces of paper and some colored graphite so that we could rub the graphite over his gravestone and take that home with us. he was actually the one that did it, because none of us could mix the graphite colors well enough to create the beautiful pictures that he created.

we all spent the day there. we stayed until the sun went down.

jimi hendrix's grave

when i was a kid i remember watching mtv and listening to the forbidden marilyn manson. he was so fascinating to me. the way he dressed (or rather, didn't dress, at the time), his makeup, his gender neutrality. everything about him fascinated me. not to mention, i thought the music was hot shit. i hadn't ever been able to go to the concerts but this year, i was not going to miss it for the world.

ended up buying tickets the day that they started selling, right when they started selling. i got general admission because sitting is for wussies - if you can't mosh at a manson show, then seriously, the terrorists have won (oh simon amstell). i went to the show with jeff. so we got there earlier to make sure we had good parking so that we didn't have to try and find our way back to some obscure parking lot in downtown seattle. we got off good - parked right next to the paramount. you could tell a lot of people had really brought out their finest goth gear for the show - jeff and i seriously looked like the most normal people ever compared to everyone else there. we went to go stand in line when doors opened only to realize that there were protesters. as we walked to get to the back of the line they were ranting on and on about how we had lost jesus and how we would all go to hell (the sign was actually: god jesus? it's hell if you don't!). not to mention that we're all homosexuals! a few people took pictures with the protestors, which was hilarious. and one woman actually tried to light their sign on fire. i liked her. :)

we got frisked on the way in but mostly for actual weapons, they were pretty chill with chains and stuff because honestly, most people were mostly wearing chains as clothing. i'm not sure making them take the chains off is a good idea.

the paramount isn't huge but it isn't a small club venue either. we walked in and were relatively close to the stage so i was pretty happy about that. the first band came out - Ours - i really wouldn't recommend them at all. they just... aren't a great band. in fact, most of us just stood there and tried to keep our ears from bleeding during most of the times the lead singer opened his mouth. they got boo-ed off stage because seattle OLDER folks seem to be very impatient.

after they got off-stage - the lights came back on and we just kind of stood there waiting for them to set up manson's set so that he would come out already. there were really irritating arseholes that were standing next to us - one kid in particular who kept crying out for manson randomly and going 'WE HATE LOVE, WE LOVE HATE' - trying to get us all to say it. nearly got punched in the face, really.

fast-forward. the lights turn off - you can hear the sound of a guitar and drums - someone doing a hell of a job on the bass - and then you can see a very very skinny man's outline on the dropped curtain and then everyone in the place went nuts. i won't get into the details of the show - track listings, etc. - i will say this though. he played two songs from eat me, drink me and most of the rest of it was older tracks, some that i wasn't expecting. he played "rock n roll nigger" which was probably the highlight of 2008. i literally went nuts when i realized that he was actually performing this song, and i was looking at him, and he was in front of me, close enough that he looked real. it was phenomenal.

he encored like four or five times because we just would not let the man leave. at the end of the show, he had a little podium put up for him and he was leaning over it and into the audience the entire time,  with his lipstick all over his face and his shirt ripped to shreds. it was absolutely beautiful.

when the house lights turned on, i was so sad to have to leave but you know, i enjoyed every second of that concert (even the half-naked moshing jerks who kept running into me!).

SUBPOP RECORDS

They need a new poster — now it's 20 years of records.

Sub Pop Top 10 albums sold

ERIKA SCHULTZ / THE SEATTLE TIMES

Odds are that Jonathan Poneman, co-founder of Sub Pop Records, is smirking underneath that sticker. He does that a lot.

BRIAN TAMBORELLO

Above: The Shins. Left: Sub Pop Records' CD cover of Nirvana's "Bleach"

SUBPOP RECORDS

ERIKA SCHULTZ / THE SEATTLE TIMES

Mudhoney vocalist Mark Arm also works at Sub Pop Records, whose office has an employee photo booth.

1. Nirvana, "Bleach" (1989), 1.6 million

2. Postal Service, "Give Up" (2003), 902,885

3. The Shins, "Oh Inverted World" (2001), 547,274

4. The Shins, "Wincing The Night Away" (2007), 500,813

5. The Shins, "Chutes Too Narrow" (2003), 462,574

6. Hot Hot Heat, "Make Up The Breakdown" (2002), 282,141

7. Sunny Day Real Estate, "Diary" (1994), 226,388

8. Iron & Wine, "Our Endless Numbered Days" (2004), 220,157

9. Iron & Wine, "The Creek Drank The Cradle" (2002), 133,752

10. Iron & Wine, "The Shepherd's Dog" (2007), 133,490

Listen up

Hear songs from Sub Pop bands, including Band of Horses, Grand Archives and Helio Sequence; buy CDs; and download podcasts at Sub Pop online: www.subpop.com

At a Queen Anne cafe the other day, four 20-somethings were huddled around a laptop, working on a business plan ("I think we should write something up, in case we get an offer ... ").

Twenty years before them, a 28-year-old slacker sat at that very table in Uptown Espresso, writing a business plan — longhand. "It was before laptops," Jonathan Poneman recalled, with the self-deprecating smirk he often uses.

His brother and mother set him to the business-plan task, a prerequisite to tap into "about $15,000 in savings bonds"; older brother Fred had to first sign off on Poneman's idea for a record company.

Until then, this Toledo native who came to Seattle in his teens was just another amateur music buff and bar-crawler. The one-time musician had started working behind the scenes, putting on shows at the U District's modest Fabulous Rainbow Tavern, by now-legendary Seattle bands like Green River and Soundgarden. His take was meager, and Poneman made the rent at day jobs.

As part of the scene, he met Bruce Pavitt, who had moved here from Olympia, where he launched a fanzine called Subterranean Pop — soon after shortened to Sub Pop — and released tapes of Northwest bands under the same name.

"Bruce and I decided we would work together," Poneman recalled, as a latte started pumping energy into the sleepy-eyed, casually dressed entrepreneur. "We shared the same vision: to create a record label that would document our particular scene."

And what began as a hobby turned into a business.

"Bruce and I quit our day jobs in March. On April 1, 1988, we signed a lease and moved into an office."

While he acknowledges Pavitt started using the term "Sub Pop" years prior to that, Poneman is firm about 1988 as "our Year Zero." That's the year "Sub Pop became a full-time operation. We went from being a bedroom operation to having an office ... . It made us feel legitimate."

Major-label deals

The pair still had amateur aesthetics, but real money to play with now. Poneman and Pavitt spent some of it flying in British gonzo-journalist Everett True and plying him with drinks — it worked, as he went home and wrote Melody Maker articles on Sub Pop and the Seattle scene. ("They're speed demons with long hair flaying, whose revivalist, left-of-centre metal is flung in our faces with an enthusiasm and awareness of heritage that's hard to resist," True wrote in a 1989 article that praised Mudhoney, Screaming Trees, Tad and Soundgarden.)

It was also 20 years ago that Nirvana's recording career had its innocuous launch, with Sub Pop releasing its "Love Buzz" cover (with "Big Cheese" as the B-side) as a single. It didn't cause much of a stir, but Sub Pop released the full-length "Bleach" the following June.

Two years later, Nirvana had a multimillion-selling Geffen album, the ubiquitous "Nevermind." The almost ridiculous surge of Nirvana from an obscure Sub Pop band to a generation-defining entity led labels to sign all sorts of bands around Seattle, in the vain search for the next big thing.

As for the label, in 1995, Sub Pop signed a deal selling 49 percent ownership to Warner Bros. Records — imitating the "sign with a major label" success of many of its bands.

By 1996, Pavitt had had enough of the music business, and retired from Sub Pop. Poneman rode out some lean years in the late-'90s, a time that many around Seattle predicted the little label would die — just like grunge, which it helped birth.

They're not dead yet

"Going out of business since 1988" is one of its slogans, but the demise of Sub Pop is yet to happen. Indeed, sales have never been better, as in recent years records by the Postal Service, Iron & Wine, Hot Hot Heat and the Shins became big sellers for Sub Pop. Of course, "big sellers" is relative, as the label has had but one "platinum" seller, Nirvana's "Bleach." (See a list of Sup Pop's top sellers on Page J1.)

Those who still dismiss Sub Pop as "that little grunge thing from back in the day" are missing the boat. In an e-mail interview, Jonathan Cohen, a Billboard senior editor, wrote about Sub Pop's reputation, old and new.

"I don't think they've been known as a grunge label for a very long time. Sub Pop remains one of the most important American indie-rock labels, regardless of its history with that particular type of music. They're very in touch with the pulse of the underground scene (as evidenced by signings like Wolf Eyes and No Age) while simultaneously building bands that are selling as many records as some major-label acts (Shins, Postal Service)."

The Billboard editor looks for a banner year from Sub Pop: "The new Helio Sequence record is fantastic, and there's a huge buzz for some of their new signings, like Blitzen Trapper. The Gutter Twins will also be a big record for them in '08, as well the Flight of the Conchords disc."

Rod Moody, of first-generation Sub Pop band Swallow, takes it a step further. Even though Pavitt and Poneman both tried to replace the guitarist years ago ("and even suggested a specific replacement for me"), he calls the Sub Pop founders "marketing geniuses. They took many, many chances, and were able to dig themselves out of a severe financial crisis. ... They were responsible, along with Bill Gates and Howard Schultz, for putting Seattle on the map."

Oh, the irony!

Sub Pop, up there with Microsoft and Starbucks? The record label certainly has to rank as one of Seattle's most successful startups, standing the test of time. And while larger labels are struggling with diminished sales, Sub Pop had one of its best years ever in 2007.

But it maintains a college-newspaper attitude. From its early "Lamefest" festivals to its wacky sloganeering ("world domination") to its Web site news section ("Pandering to the Locals"), Sub Pop is addicted to irony, faux grandeur delivered with heavy winks.

After all, this is the place that pulled one of rock's great pranks: Megan Jasper, then a receptionist, made up terms like "swingin' on the flippity-flop" (supposedly meaning "hanging out") when a New York Times reporter called to find out what kind of slang grunge had. At another company, Jasper might have been fired for such a prank. At Sub Pop, she is now general manager. Such is the way Poneman treats his 25 employees.

Poneman, who is 48 and single, might not be out every night, as he once was, but you can still find him lurking in the crowd — often alone, always with a low profile — around Seattle rock clubs. The Crocodile was his favorite venue, and when it closed suddenly in December, he considered buying the club. While at least one other group apparently outbid him (Groupee has applied for the Crocodile's liquor license), it whet his appetite, and he says he and/or Sub Pop may look at opening a Seattle venue.

Whether or not he opens a new club, Poneman remains a huge player in the Seattle music scene.

Last year, Sub Pop launched Hardly Art, a label-within-a-label that has signed new Seattle bands Arthur & Yu and the Dutchess and the Duke. "It has a 'laboratory quality' to it," Poneman says, indicating the quote marks with his hands, again with that smirk. "It's a baby label, in the same way that Sub Pop started as a baby label."

The original baby is now 20, and Poneman has some celebration shows in the works, closer to the April Fools' Day anniversary. Poneman is holding back details, but it's a good bet that the Shins, Band of Horses, Mudhoney — singer Mark Arm also works in the Sub Pop warehouse, by the way — and several other bands from its current roster will play at anniversary shows. Don't be surprised if there's a reunion, perhaps even Green River.

Sub Pop's kind of town

Sub Pop long ago earned a national reputation, and in recent years has earned a second one. Yet it remains, in many ways, a Seattle thing.

"Sub Pop would not have been Sub Pop without Seattle," Poneman says. "Seattle is an essential component to the story. Sub Pop is less geographical [now] — it has less of a regional focus. But Seattle is still home — I can complain about the irresponsible development going on downtown, I can complain about the traffic and real-estate prices, but it's still my home. And I think I can speak for Sub Pop: The people living in Seattle have always been very supportive of Sub Pop."

While he cites independent radio station KEXP (and its predecessor, KCMU) and Seattle indie record stores as "amazing partners to Sub Pop through the years," it again comes down to the bands. While Sub Pop's signings extend around the country, the most successful have Northwest roots.

And, Poneman flatly states, "We are in the midst of a resurrection" of Seattle music. He cites Band of Horses, new signings Grand Archives (led by Mat Brooke, formerly of Carissa's Wierd and Band of Horses) and Fleet Floxes, and unsigned (for now) band the Moondoggies as "great, great bands that are coming up — very exciting."

But Poneman can't talk too long without that self-deprecating, ironic streak. And here comes that smirk again.

"I've signed bands to Sub Pop whose parents used to watch the original Sub Pop bands."