At the age of 34, Alice in Chains vocalist Layne Staley was found dead in his Seattle home this past week due to drug-related causes.

Nirvana had ignited the grunge movement with their seminal 1991 release “Nevermind,” and hundreds of bands, poised as scavengers, picking apart the style for personal profit and fame, co-opted it. The members of Alice in Chains truly embodied the movement (pitfalls and all).

Ripe with personal turmoil, drug use and internal squabbles, Alice in Chains was quite possibly the most intriguing and diverse band that emerged from the Pacific Northwest during the major label siege of the region during the early ’90s. With a pile-driving sound, dark imagery and Staley’s haunting voice, AIC lived and breathed the pain and emotion that many came to associate with grunge.

While their music itself was often as dark and sinister as it was beautiful, it was always Staley, the wispy, pasty singer who belted out songs with a an immense and frightening voice that belied his diminutive stature, that took center stage. Along with the likes of Chris Cornell of Soundgarden and Maynard Keenan of Tool, Staley possessed one of the most expressive and recognizable voices in all of rock.

Dying without the fanfare that accompanied the suicide death of Kurt Cobain or magazine covers graced with his emaciated face, Staley’s death has gone largely beneath the radar of popular culture.

Despite massive success with albums like “Facelift,” “Dirt” and “Unplugged,” Alice in Chains always seemed far to disturbed to truly gain mainstream acceptance. While other artists were singing songs of troubled childhood, Staley was crafting a catharsis built around pain, death and addiction. It is almost fitting, in fact, that much like the career of his band, Staley’s death may go widely unnoticed.

In all likelihood, there will be no MTV memorial (a’ la Aaliyah) or a Behind the Music special to commemorate Staley’s death, and it would almost surely be a disservice to create such pleasantries.

With songs like “Junkhead” and “Sickman” among others, Staley was a deeply troubled artist constantly in the throes of addiction, not some inane pop star pandering to an audience of TRL children and trendy music fans.

Although tragic, it’s hard to feel real sympathy for the death of a man who has lived the past decade as an admitted heroin addict, and the past three or four years on the brink of death. While a brilliant musician, Staley’s death was merely predictable and almost an afterthought. Although many may mourn the loss, it’s impossible to say that every music fan didn’t see this coming a mile away.