As previously noted, when your parents start knowing who these bands you’re listening to are, that’s pretty much the benchmark for major cultural impact. The spring after Nevermind hits, I notice one day this cassette is missing from its slot in my tape rack — but will later discover that’s only because my stepdad heard something about these guys, came in to my room to see if I had the latest pop music phenomenon, then borrowed the tape to drive around listening to it. His verdict, in case you’re holding onto your seat with white knuckled anticipation, is only that they are “pretty good” but that the drummer was really amazing.
And so this is one other easily overlooked aspect, that this trio is also really solid on their instruments of choice. Maybe nobody here is challenging the thrones of Eddie Van Halen, Steve Harris, or Neil Peart, yet these cats can still plainly hold their own. But one of many valid choices we could make if picking apart its creation, and why it has hit precisely the way it has. Though Grohl has said he tends not to analyze Kurt’s lyrics too much, because he has seen the guy literally scribbling these down on paper mere moments before recording some of the tracks, I think they nonetheless often strike this sweet spot of being memorable yet inscrutable. That hallowed middle ground which allows a listener’s imagination to take flight, and also contributing mightily to this basic, childlike fable aspect that persists even in their heavier cuts.
I even like hearing the minutiae about its creation, provided you can erase the noise of those most mythical tales. For example that when recording vocals, producer Butch Vig likes to wheel in a TV set, on but with the sound turned off, because he’s convinced this contributes a warmth to the recording atmosphere. Or how he was unable to get a passable take on Something In The Way, until recording Kurt in the control room one day. And that this is a lot of what you hear on the finished effort, apart from the (ahem) overdubbed cello: Cobain lying on the couch, on his back, strumming the guitar and singing.
As far as this massive detonation of its cultural reach, though many others have commented on how stale pop music has become, as the spark in this powderkeg allowing such a travesty to happen, it’s interesting to latch onto specifics and analyze how things might have turned out much differently. Like thinking one day that, although many shake their heads in wonderment that Nirvana dethroned Michael Jackson from the #1 slot…not to take anything away from those guys, but if Dangerous were even nearly as good as Bad, then that probably would not have happened. Another point might be that Nirvana didn’t exactly “dethrone” Michael Jackson — Dangerous did after all outsell Nevermind. They just happened to be the next guys at #1 right after him.
Except then any time I see this grainy, really raw sounding clip of Teen Spirit, the lyrics even different in some places, as they play to a relative handful in some grimy club just weeks before impact, it shoots chills down my arms every time. And part of me believes this was always destined to have a huge impact, that there’s no way this wasn’t going to happen.
Prior to catching the Primus show in Columbus, there’s actually considerable discussion between all of us about whether we wish to attend this one, or a somewhat similarly timed Nirvana performance in Dayton. Over pizzas at the Richland Mall, before ever buying these tickets, Heather and I sit with Chris and Damon, debating our immediate concertgoing options. The crux of our dilemma is that Nirvana’s playing down in Dayton on October 30, at the same place we had seen GN’R, while nine days earlier Primus is hitting Columbus. Though attending both is not entirely out of the question, we’re all of a same mind, that it’s essentially an either/or proposition — none of us are killing it financially, the Dayton show especially is a major time commitment, and I’m even further hamstrung by footing the bill for my girlfriend.
Though some consider this a ridiculous no-brainer in favor of Nirvana, it really does amount to a virtual toss-up. By now In Utero’s out in stores and leadoff single Heart Shaped Box has ruled the airwaves since late August. Outside of maybe my brother, I’m actually a bigger fan of the album than almost anyone I know, but even so, can’t really come to terms with how great I think it is in relation to its predecessor. Heather is not especially a fan, outside of Heart Shaped and All Apologies, while I’ve heard Damon come right out and say, “oh bullshit,” when reading reviews rating it on par with Nevermind. On the flipside, critics are mostly raving about it, though as is often the case, I feel like they’re frequently just running with what they know is the “correct” verdict instead of what they actually feel. In deference to what we might call the Black Album Law cited by Metallica, you can only truly break through once, so it’s unfair to judge In Utero vs. Nevermind on those terms. I try to just appraise it on a song by song, total body of work overview, yet even this is problematic.
Obviously, it’s a major tip of the hat to In Utero that you would even halfway entertain such a notion, that it’s in the same league as Nevermind. But I can’t decide if it’s truly hanging with the all-time legendary works, or if we’re just burned out on the previous album, after hearing it nonstop for two and a half years. Regarding this follow up, it will surely take even longer than that to arrive at a definitive answer. In the meantime, though, I feel like my final answer is that it’s better in some respects…and worse in others. And while this may sound like a bet hedging cop out, in this instance I believe that’s an accurate assessment.
If we’re being real, I mean, there’s probably no objective way that this is as good as Nevermind. But so what? It’s still a tremendous effort, any way you slice it. Common sense dictates that by default, if you’re coming up with what’s widely considered one of the inner circle Hall Of Fame releases ever, that’s unlikely to happen again, for anyone, even should your career last half a century. Cobain and company have taken some genuine risks, though still delivered the goods by way of catchy, memorable songs, at least a handful of which are sure to make the permanent set list. You almost get the sense that it’s the ordering of the releases that is so problematic. That in a just universe the two albums would have been flip-flopped, that this is the quintessential difficult-yet-brilliant-initially-considered-a-dud sophomore effort around which legends are born, and is only much later considered genius.
Hiring uncompromising noise rock miser Steve Albini to produce the album was their first bold move, and they didn’t let off the gas pedal much from there. Though once again I can see both sides of the debate, I’m more impressed with Albini types who charge a flat fee, end of story, and no “points” on an album’s sale. Instead of those in the Butch Vig camp, who are partially compensated by those points. In other words, they have financial motivations in place to want this to sell as many units as possible. My buddy Paul on the other hand considers this absurd, that he would always opt for the producer taking points, because the guy has a vested interest in your success. I guess it comes down to being damn sure you have the right person in place — though you can say the same about the “flat fee” approach as well. But I have a sneaking suspicion the road paving the way past the cut out bins, over the terminal, one way cliff of career suicide, has been predominantly asphalted, many times over, by guys taking points on cheesy, pandering albums that turned out as disasters.
It kind of relates to even one of Albini’s own notorious quotes, about 90 percent of indie bands being shitty, just the same as 90 percent of mainstream ones are: he said that even so, if he had just one oven, he knows which batch he would incinerate first. I feel pretty much the same way about producers taking points.
Well, so okay, regarding the verdict on the product itself, Heart Shaped Box is awesome, no less its bleak, somewhat surreal video, and I consider a couple tracks even better than that, most notably the aching, downbeat Dumb and twice more poignant Pennyroyal Tea. Elsewhere, some of the noise rock freakouts, often affixed to otherwise semi-normal songs, are admirable. And while I’m quick to categorize All Apologies as just your average pop song at this point, you need to take a step back to consider how truly remarkable this is, unthinkable just a few years prior — that this is what your average pop song tends to sound like now, thanks to them. Finally, hipster pride notwithstanding, there’s no reason not to celebrate that a release this weird and mostly uncompromising managed to land at #1 anyway.
The downsides are that, no two ways around it, some of this junk is filler. And then there’s the final recorded version of Rape Me, at long last, of which Kurt still remains inexplicably proud. Also, though once again forever passing the buck, or else claiming that none of these decisions he made were done so for commercial reasons, you have Cobain nonetheless making them. For reasons that almost certainly appear commercial ones. Geffen Records (or more technically, the DGC branch of what is now known as Geffen/A & M Records) is reportedly less than enthralled with the finished product, and although it’s possible that as Kurt claims, he is the one who realized you could barely hear the bass guitar and some of the vocals in the Albini mixes, denies the label made him change them…whatever the case, it’s true they attempt to straighten these levels out in the mastering process. Then, they bring in R.E.M. producer Scott Litt to remix what were already viewed as the two most radio friendly songs, Heart Shaped Box and All Apologies. Albini, to his credit, was so opposed to the latter decision that he initially refused to hand over the master tapes, though Novoselic was able to convince him otherwise.
Regarding this pizza powwow, I’m still smarting from my idiotic decision to rest at home for Lollapalooza, with a purchased ticket sitting unused on my dresser. That, coupled with some uneasiness Heather has, viewing a Nirvana show as one giant riotous moshpit, she and I choose Primus, while Damon and Chris opt for Cobain and company. Pork Soda I honestly believe is in the same ballpark as In Utero, quality wise, and if nothing else Les’s antics with the bass are bound to entertain. Soon enough, I have talked my comrades Kenny and Alan into joining the demented Primus fray with us, by claiming these other two passes. At least in theory, anyway.
But although I love a few tracks on In Utero, my all-time favorite Nirvana cut is probably one whose title people can’t even seem to agree upon. Going down this rabbit hole online will likely leave you even more confused than you were at the outset, and lead to virtual arguments with very intense bros defending their view and telling you you’re an idiot for believing otherwise.
However, as far as I’m concerned, this song was ALWAYS known as Verse Chorus Verse, until some Nirvana compilations started cropping up in the mid aughts. Whatever you call it, however, it originally appeared as an unlisted bonus track on the 1993 benefit album for AIDS research, No Alternative. My memories are that the Nirvana cut only appeared on cassettes, not CDs, but according to Wikipedia this is not quite correct — yet either way, it was not only unlisted, you couldn’t even be entirely sure which version you had until listening to the thing. The kerfuffle about the song title, meanwhile, aside from it being meaningless to begin with, I tend to take even less seriously considering that in Kurt’s lifetime the only name it ever had was Verse Chorus Verse, with the debates about “no, you dunderhead, it’s called Sappy!” only beginning to occur after he died. To me, that’s the tiebreaker. Also, the official Red Hot label, which released this album, still has it listed as Verse Chorus Verse on Apple Music, YouTube, and pretty much anywhere else you care to look.
But whatever. What’s more important is that I really like how it’s extremely catchy but a bit raw sounding nonetheless, and with an impressive, memorable guitar solo demonstrating that Cobain could really play when he chose to. And of course another strong Grohl drum performance, about which little needs to be said. That breakdown after the solo, when the drums and everything else kicks in, just crushes every time you hear it. Actually, how and why they left this off In Utero is itself a question for the ages.
As for Krist Novoselic, while easy to downplay his importance in the group, maybe, keep in mind that it’s only because he showed up drunk at the Sub Pop owner’s residence late one night, and demanded they had their record contract in writing right that very second, that Nirvana ever had more than a handshake deal. Otherwise, everyone involved with the project might have been royally screwed when the royalties began raining down from those cloudy Seattle skies.
