Colorful, outspoken rock musician and actress (born 1964), lead singer of the group Hole, and widow of Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain. ALS signed “Court, working in N’Awlins,” three pages, 8.5 x 11, no date. Love writes to NME [the British magazine New Musical Express]. In part [her spellings retained]: “Madonna stage diving, in a crowded stinky van, in the summer, on tour #998 of the States, in the summer, with 9 people yelling ‘Play Freebird’—BTW, I give myself all those bruises, scabs, and bald patches from the pit, as well as contriving my latest court case/drug deal/barroom brawl…. Shes is simply as vapid as Mariah Whitney Janet etc. The end. I can’t think of a single bridge, harmony, or lyric of her that has ever ‘moved’ me, its like vapor thru the air, her flaw is evidenced in her record company—these people thought Nirvana was ‘a genius idea, Geffen was brilliant to come up with this “grunge thing”’ (actual quote). Hey, Maddy, shit happens, like ‘losers’ from Aberdeen selling more records than you, with no real idea as to what hit them. It’s not all laff trax and costume changes (Stage dive! I dare ya!) and finding the Debbie Gibson of Canada sticking her with some who who writes Wilson/Phillips and Michael Jackson songs and making up ‘faux alternative’ ‘happy’ songs…. Kurt, Billy, Trent & Eddie have scrotums to ensure them from this meowness. Trent can spew his fucking angst fraudulent or real and its ‘genius’ but females—well were jsut ‘mad’ n ‘walking train wrecks’ and stuff. Yeah, my life is all an act! Act 3 of fucking Hamlet you artless gormless twat! Kurts life was a big act too huh? He was really faking it. Raking in the buck to buy me & Frances bonbons and Couture clothing. NOT! The only song of Madge’s that has ever amused me was one about a ‘Bad Girl’ ‘Bad Girl, Drunk by 6, smoked too many cigarettes today.’ My how utterly DECADENT. I’m SHOCKED!… Its simple. Madonna sucks, artwise, just bleccchhh, fucking Stiltskins, the Pistols, next to that ballistic, blistering catharsis of her music…. The day I bring my own paid cheering section, sing to tape, and have costume changes, someone send me to Kurt, coz then I’ll be unfit to mother my child. Ick, ick, ick. Did someone tell her who the Stooges, Patti S., and the Velvets were last week, Its gross and oily y’all…. I’m done, she’s got too big a boner that I wrote anyway—I am indifferent to her, I just think her body of work blows, every note….” In fine condition. A remarkable and hilarious document of one of the fiercest and most protracted “catfights” in rock history! RRAuction COA.
