A Black Woman called Tina Bell invented Grunge but I’m only now finding out about it
Why knowing Tina Bell and her forgotten legacy with grunge would have validated my teenaged self’s quest to find herself within a white dominated music scene
Coming of age in the Persian Gulf as an Afro-Trinidadian teenage girl was quite an isolating experience, despite my very diverse international British school. I struggled to grasp onto an identity that was not only comforting but freeing. Scrolling through Tumblr during the early 2010’s, I was immediately drawn to the world alternative rock and grunge; specifically the band Nirvana. Before this, I had gravitated towards the angsty sounds of Paramore, ska-infused tunes of No Doubt and the ethereal, eerie melodies of Evanescence. Nirvana, however, was different. It was unique, it was messy, it was blunt, it was raw. So was the flannel ridden grunge scene of the 90's. I loved it.
I fell into line pretty quickly, buying my first pair of Doc Martens and cheap, faded oversized jean jacket at the bewilderment of my parents. My iPod was suddenly filled with their songs which I’d play on repeat and the iconic smiley logo was scribbled across any and every empty surface. I even had my ringtone set as Smells Like Teen Spirit for short period of time. Looking back it is almost laughable that I, a black teen, felt this strange connection to a white band from halfway around the world. Seattle, Washington is nothing like Manama, Bahrain where I’d spent the majority of my life. But their message was clear; escapism. And that’s what I wanted.
Unbeknownst to me, around the same time I was getting my teeth sunk further into grunge and it’s feminist cousin Riot Grrrl, Tina Bell, the unsung ‘Godmother of Grunge’ was taking her last breaths alone in her apartment. She was only 55, but alcohol and depression had taken it’s toll on the exemplary woman who never got the praise she was and still is, due. 15th of September 2021; the day I discovered Tina Bell’s existence. It felt like I was rediscovering grunge again, only this time, I felt betrayed. Lied to. I was led to believe that grunge was a white man’s genre and that people like me only had the privilege to merely listen to it. I had spent a great deal of time trying to find myself among the long haired, foul-mouthed, white guys and had resigned to the fact that it was non-existent. Now, almost 10 years later, I realise I was wrong.
Looking at photos of the beautiful, petite, brown skinned young woman that was Tina Bell, she can’t help but feel familiar. She is exactly who I needed to see at 15 years old. Who, many of us needed to see. It seems like these days, discovering a black woman was a prominent part of whatever cultural or musical movement is commonplace. At this point, I believe a black woman invented everything. But why were we robbed of the existence of Tina Bell for so long? Why was she allowed to fade away into obscurity until now? Why wasn’t she awarded the same success as her successors when without her, they would not have had the foundation to build on?
The answer is simple: she was black and a woman in a space where success required a white male face.
Even within her band Bam Bam (which instantly reminded me of Sister Nancy’s infamous song), she was the only black female. Whilst that and her ‘low smoky voice’ made her a unique frontwoman it also made her susceptible to racial attacks onstage. From the onset, it was clear audiences were not ready to see a black woman with an unapologetic presence like hers. I like to think that if she had debuted in 2021, audiences reception of her would be vastly different. In an age where women of colour, specifically black women are becoming more prominent in alternative scenes, someone like Tina Bell would’ve been embraced with open arms. Yet even Nirvana frontman, Kurt Cobain who was a roadie for them in his teens, felt her impact.
Tina Bell was exactly the non-conforming, bold, badass black alt woman I needed as a shy, lost teenager. Her face should have been plastered all over my room instead of Kurt’s (as much as I adored him). Her existence would have transformed the world of grunge and all it’s siblings for a lot of black kids around the world. Maybe I would have felt less of an imposter as I dived further into the grunge music scene?
Her story is tragically inspiring. This woman was ambitious, talented and driven. And yet none of those qualities guaranteed her fame or fortune. Instead, she left Bam Bam and music in the early 90’s (after their limited popularity faded) and disappeared into the wind. How many more incredible black women end up like that; I fear far too many to count. I see some of myself in the woman she once was and it’s haunting. I wish she had been given a chance, because that’s all any of us wants. But there are barriers for people like her, like us. To overcome them takes hard work and even then it’s a thankless process. I admire her strength and her persistence. She may not have gotten the praise she deserved whilst she was alive, but in death, she is an icon.
All that’s left of this remarkable woman is the band’s singular EP and album and pictures (and one video) of her unique, undeniable aura. Her legacy, is being kept alive by her former bandmates including Scott Ledgerwood, her son filmmaker T.J. Martin and the thousands of would be fans who are starry eyed at her impact. Whilst I have grown up considerably since my teenaged rock band obsessed days and my music tastes are a non specific web of many genres, I still look upon grunge fondly. Tina’s Bam Bam has easily found itself firmly within my Spotify playlist (yes they’re on Spotify and YouTube). Am I making up for the time I did not get with her as a teen? Perhaps, but it’s never too late for me to live out my teenage dream. We owe her a debt of gratitude for giving the world grunge. Without her, Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains (and their modern day successors) may never have existed.
