Alice in Chains: The Untold Story

They found a venue at 207 Second Avenue in downtown Seattle. It had a history of being a nightclub going back to the Great Seattle Fire of 1889. It was tiny—with a legal capacity of three hundred. According to Susan, “Hugo’s idea was the Factory West Coast, a place for people to come and express themselves in any way: hear music, see films, and make art projects together. And then commercial needs took over, so it morphed into a showplace.” The Metropolis opened its doors in May 1983. Piottin was later joined by the singer/guitarist for Red Masque, Gordon Doucette, as a business partner.5

To be an all-ages club, no alcohol would be served. According to a 1983 Seattle Times article, “Traditionally, nonalcoholic nightclubs haven’t lasted long in Seattle. Teenagers don’t seem to be much interested in them, and it’s been hard for such clubs to make a profit without highly lucrative liquor sales.”6 Susan came in to run the juice bar. According to Doucette, “Susan’s involvement in Metropolis was just monumental. She had a great business savvy. She’s a woman with a huge heart. There’s a lot of clubs where the owners are never present—they’re shrewd businessmen counting cash in the office—but Susan, Hugo, and myself were always out there; we were part of the crowd and directly involved. So ninety-five percent of the people who walked through the doors of Metropolis knew us by name.” Susan and Doucette started dating.7

Standing next to Susan at the bar, Bruce Pavitt, the future founder of Sub Pop Records, was the DJ, spinning records ranging from Minor Threat to Run-DMC. Pavitt called the Metropolis “an amazing opportunity for young people to perform in front of their peers.”8 Among the club’s regulars who cut their teeth there were future Mudhoney members Mark Arm and Steve Turner, and future Guns n’ Roses bassist Duff McKagan. McKagan’s band Ten Minute Warning was the opening act when the Replacements played at the Metropolis on November 30, 1983.9

For that show, Susan, Piottin, and Doucette made an effort to make the place look nice. According to Susan, the band was not as respectful. “After the Replacements left, we went into the dressing room, and they had just trashed it. They pissed in there and graffitied all over the walls—they drew a caricature of Fred Flintstone with somebody shitting in his mouth. It was juvenile, it was imbecilic, but, beyond all that, it was disrespectful. I was gutted.” This incident influenced her mind-set as a manager years later, telling her clients that sort of behavior was unacceptable.10

The club would not last long—only about a year and a half. According to Piottin, they were renting on a month-to-month basis. When the building next door started being developed into a condo, it was decided that having a club crowd next door on weekends was undesirable.11

Susan started her managing career in 1983 working with the U-Men. She didn’t have much experience but did it anyway, booking a U.S. tour from her bedroom using fanzines, 411, and a phone book. Tensions were building between bassist Jim Tillman and the other members. Because the others were too cowardly to do it themselves, they made Susan fire Tillman.12

Although involved with the music scene, Susan had a day job. She noted that “none of this was a way to make a living.” She worked at a local clothing store, which may have had an impact on her future clients. In the 1980s, this store was one of the few in Seattle that carried Dr. Martens boots and shoes. The British brand had been around since the early 1960s as working-class footwear. Different youth subcultures over the years embraced the brand. Coincidentally—or perhaps not—members of Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, and Alice in Chains wore Dr. Martens, associating the brand with grunge in the process. In the early 1990s, all three bands were managed by Kelly Curtis and Susan. After the grunge scene took off and Seattle rockers were seen wearing them, Charles R. Cross noted sales of the brand skyrocketed, and the shoes were soon being sold at Nordstrom.13

One day a local musician named Chris Cornell walked into the store, and Susan caught his eye. He kept coming back to try to get her attention, but she wasn’t reciprocating. She had broken up with Gordon Doucette a few months earlier and, in her words, was in “a pretty dark space.” Around Halloween 1985, Susan went to a party accompanied by a friend, the performance artist and singer Chuck Gerra. Gerra dressed Susan as himself in drag for the party—in a long blond wig, platform shoes, a kimono, and makeup. That party was the first time she saw a local band named Soundgarden, which featured Cornell pulling double duty on drums and lead vocals. Her impression: “It was mind-blowing—they were amazing.”14