I'm no expert on Alice in Chains, and I couldn't match a face with a name if it wasn't
Lane Layne Staley. But I was a fan of the alt-rock foursome back in the '90s. They satisfied my love of decipherable lyrics and harmony.
Because I only know the band's music and not its members, I didn't recognize who I believe was Mike Starr, former AIC bassist standing outside a disheveled white van near the corner of Madison and Boren. Mumbling incoherently at me and a couple of friends and looking like he fell out of the wrong side of the grunge-music digestive tract, Starr approached and asked us something. Or told us something. I couldn't be sure.
I just heard, "Meh muh um forma bass playa Alice Chains."