Photo by JJ Gonson

By Sluggo Cawley, singer, songwriter and guitarist



OK, so I know that you asked for a guitar story, but this is a story of two 1970s guitars. My Boston-based grunge/noise band Hullabaloo hit CBGB’s for the second time in our career on June 17, 1989. We had played at the Paradise in Boston for the WBCN Rock And Roll Rumble the night before, where we lost to Blue Rodeo I think (members of Til Tuesday), but managed to steal three cases of beer at load out.

That night we played with Urge Overkill, Blind Idiot God and Mallethead. During our set I remember getting a little peevish about everyone sitting at little tables in front of us. I began to get annoyed at the “tameness” of it. Our manager, J.J. Gonson, had rounded up a bunch of friends who were in attendance and seated right up front. One friend in particular, Aristides Logothetis, was an artist that I respected, and I remember wanting to impress him. So near the end of our set, I took a running leap off of the three-foot high stage and crash-landed on the table that he and other friends were seated at.

I struggled to my feet all tangled up in my guitar cord and noticed that my ’70s Gibson SG was now in two pieces. As was the table. Walking backstage, our singer Thomas Quinn saw my bleeding elbow and asked to have a look. He quickly looked away, blanching and telling me that there was stuff popping out. He was sufficiently grossed out and advised that I get to a hospital.

J.J. and I, along with Aris, walked out of the club. Hilly’s daughter, Louise also told me to get help. We walked out of the club and there was an ambulance with its lights flashing, waiting for someone else somewhere. The EMT saw me bleeding and said, “Get over here!” He sterilized the cut, slapped a Band-aid on it and admonished me to “Go to the hospital, that needs stitches. Do not ignore this!” We went to New York General I think, and I got eight stitches.

I had, however, succeeded in impressing Aris. When we got back to Boston, I proudly put this broken guitar in our living room as art. It would only sit there for a month.

On July 15, 1989, J.J. & I saw Nirvana play at Green Street Station. It was the first time Nirvana played Boston. Because of the connection Hullabaloo had to SubPop (Daniel House, bassist of Skin Yard, worked at SubPop, and both Skin Yard and Hullabaloo were on Toxic Shock Records out of Tucson, Arizona), Nirvana stayed at our apartment in Watertown (9 Church Hill Street).

Kurt didn’t have a guitar in working order that night, and so he only sang, letting Jason Everman play all the guitar. Jason later told me that he was nervous having to play both his and Kurt’s parts. He was wearing a PRONG shirt the entire time, and I remember reading later that Kurt and Krist were annoyed that he would wear such a boring band’s shirt. Sorry Prong, but I have to agree with them on that, though not enough of a reason to fire someone.

The next morning we went to the Store 24 next door, and Kurt got Strawberry Quik, as he said his stomach was bothering him. Thor Eisentriger (Cows’ guitar player) came over to catch a ride down to New York City with Hullabaloo, who would be driving down alongside Nirvana, as we both had shows in New York City in the next few days. In our apartment that morning, Kurt asked me if he could have the smashed Gibson SG I had hanging on my wall. I asked him, “Why?” and he replied that it didn’t look broken too bad, and he could fix it up and smash it later.

So I said, “Sure, but now I won’t have one for my wall.” Kurt replied, “I’ll be right back.” He went out to their van and presented me a 1973 Fender Mustang that he deemed beyond repair. He had smashed it at Maxwell’s in Hoboken, New Jersey the night before the Green Street show with Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth watching. In sort of mock guitar hero worship I asked him to sign it for me. He wrote, “Yo Sluggo, thanx for the trade. If its illegal to rock and roll, then throw my ass in jail. NIRVANA.” He also wrote “vox pick-up” with an arrow, but I have lost that piece of the pick guard. There are also two of his flowers he liked to draw on things.

The guitar has a serial number on the base of the neck – 4900 1853. It is in three or 4 pieces held together by duct tape. I carried it with me as I moved from apartment to apartment, eventually relocating to San Francisco. I also remember playing Kurt some Hullabaloo and him being nice enough to listen. On the trip down to New York City I traded one of my band’s T-shirts to Jason Everman for one of theirs. Jason had paid for their shirts to be made. It was one of the original “Satan-Worshipping, Fudge-Packing…” ones, and I gave it to my friend Jack Endino after Kurt’s death.

Nirvana came to see Hullabaloo play CBGB’s Record Canteen later that day. Kurt repaired the SG I had given him and painted it light blue, with black tape on it. He was photographed by Charles Peterson playing it at the East Ballroom, Husky Union Building, University of Washington, Seattle, WA on January 6, 1990.

He was later videotaped smashing it February 17, 1990 at Iguana’s in Tijuana, Mexico. Earnie Bailey, his guitar tech for the last years of his life, told me that my SG was the only Gibson SG Kurt ever played.

I had shlepped Kurt’s broken guitar around through five apartments in Boston and then brought it with me to San Francisco. After Kurt’s passing, I began to realize that it might be worth something and hanging it on my wall might not be the best or most secure thing for it. I called up to the Experience Music Project to naively ask if Paul Allen might be interested in purchasing it. The head curator, Jacob McMurray, told me probably not, but had I considered letting the museum borrow it for possible exhibiting?

He further explained that it would be safely stored in a climate-controlled space, and this way more people could see it. He also said that it would be insured; the only thing that I had to do was to first get an appraisal. He recommended Helen Hall, head rock memorabilia appraiser at Christie’s in New York City. I called Helen, and she told me that it did indeed sound like an interesting artifact, and she would be glad to appraise it, and it would only cost me $500. I thanked her for her time, but I was not willing to spend $500.

So after talking to a few friends (I believe that Barry Simons was the one), I was steered towards the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame. I talked to Curatorial Director Howard Kramer, who was very interested in the guitar. He told me that his museum would love to offer me the same deal as the EMP and that they would not need an appraisal. We talked for a while, and he said that he personally would probably put the current value at $25,000, but advised me to hold on to it, as the people who would really love to buy such an item might not have that kind of money now, but give them 10 years, and they would. I took this information back to Jacob, and hearing it, he said, “Well, a Howard Kramer appraisal of $25,000 works for me!” So in 2004 the EMP sent an art shipper down to our house in San Francisco to pack the Mustang. Jacob hoped to store it until “Taking Punk To The Masses” exhibit scheduled for 2010.

In 2006 my wife and I had gotten ourselves into financial trouble. Owning and running a business in San Francisco and attempting to be homeowners in the Bay Area mortgage meltdown had us on the brink of bankruptcy. When I received an out-of-the-blue six-digit offer for the guitar, we decided to sell. I sold it through UK broker Helen Hall (now running her own memorabilia company) in late November 2008 to Adam Sender, a New York Investor with a large private art collection for $100,000. He verbally agreed to let the guitar remain at the EMP. After his purchase, he reneged and had it pulled.

At the time, this was the second highest price paid for a piece of Kurt Cobain memorabilia. I remember buying Guns’N’Roses’ “Chinese Democracy” CD – that was the only thing I used the guitar money for. Other than paying off our $111,000 credit card debt. I’ve often thanked Kurt in my mind for ridding my family of credit cards – to this day I do not have one. I truly believe that he would’ve approved. I can almost hear Kurt saying, “Shit, if some dumbass wants to give you that much money for a pile of broken wood, then go for it.”

A while later I was conversing on cell phone with Jack Endino and he said that he was in a truck being driven by Krist Novoselic. I said to give my regards, and I heard Krist yell back, “I want my guitar back!” The humor and good-naturedness in his tone told me that he was not unhappy with my decision.