Redskins Hosting Seattle Means Grunge Music at the Tailgate!!

Being a fan of the Washington Redskins has its ups and downs. I, for one, look forward to the day when I switch from drinking out of the Stein of Shame and begin drinking from the Chalice of Dignity! (SPOILER ALERT: It's just a red Solo cup with alternate lettering courtesy of a black Sharpie.)

While my Sharpie remains on hot standby, my red Solo cup continues to log long hours as the primary vessel delivering memory-erasing serum to my brainial cavity. On the asphalt of the FedEx Field parking lot, where said serum is as essential to a Redskins-viewing experience as...oxygen...there are few things more important to the legions of faithful fans than the music played at the tailgate.

This week, the Redskins play host to a team from the home of the grunge music scene. Anyone who was listening to music in the early 90's understands the importance of this musical movement. From Nirvana to Pearl Jam to Soundgarden to Alice in Chains--to name but a few--there was no shortage of great bands putting out great albums. You could listen to every track from albums like Nevermind, Ten, and Jar of Flies (again, to name just a few) and never skip a song.

In honor of trying to maintain a sense of fun in the parking lot, but definitely not in honor of the Seahawks, we are putting together a grunge music playlist for the tailgate on Monday. I have already submitted my eight songs to the playlist, and here they are:

Pearl Jam: Rearviewmirror

Nirvana: The Man Who Sold the World

Temple of the Dog: Hunger Strike

Meat Puppets: Backwater

Dinosaur Jr.: Feel the Pain

Alice in Chains: Would?

Pixies: Where Is My Mind?

Toadies: Possum Kingdom

I think that of these eight, the Pixies and Toadies songs are the most on the edge. The Pixies predate grunge by just a hair, but their sound was so influential on Kurt Cobain that I gave them the nod. The Toadies are classified by most as "post-grunge" but by virtue of including the word "grunge" into their genre, I gave them the nod.

Everyone in the tailgate gets to put up to eight songs into the playlist at our tailgate, ensuring that the guy with the most questionable music taste can only ruin the party to a certain extent. (Sidebar--Yes, I played Hank Williams, Jr. at the Jaguars tailgate. If you can think of better music to pound beers to at 7 o'clock on a Sunday morning before watching the REDSKINS play football, be my freaking guest. There's just something about the way Bocephus brings it that makes the beer jump into my mouth. It's like a damn Jedi trick.)

But I digress...

Let's get this playlist nailed. The fate of the party hangs in the balance.