Twenty-five years ago, a unique geek stumbled onto pop’s main stage.
Each was svelte, handsome, and sure, if also highly wary of the corny conventions of stardom.
But it wasn’t only how Duritz looked that stood out, or even how he sounded.
Credit: Dave Tonge/Getty Images
It was also what he sang about.
His emotional transparency robbed the band of the necessary mystique.
(The precise silver anniversary of the Crows' debut is Sept. 14).
Yet, Duritz’s brave exposure of male insecurity gaveAugusta cultural significance that deserves plaudits of its own.
The result gave his voice both a freedom and a constant sense of surprise.
Other verses, however, proved more strained.
Nearly every woman Duritz presents in his songs conforms to the “beautiful loser” cliche.
At the same time, he presented himself as a loser in love in an unusual way.
Looks far less frequently figure into it.
His uncommonly frank admissions contrast tellingly with a famous line of the era.
In the Nirvana song “Lithium,” Kurt Cobain sings, “I’m so ugly.”
Cobain’s words wind up suggesting an inner feeling rather than an outer description.
In Duritz’s case, the perception of ugliness connects to something interior, as well as exterior.
Critics writing at the time the Crows released their debut could be just as hard on the music.
Duritz also drew heat for his hair.
His dreads were demonized as symbols of cultural appropriation years before such criticisms became common.
The need behind that struggle chips away at the hip front critics tend to lionize.
