The New Music

I feel like it’s a cliché to admit this but Nirvana is almost entirely responsible for shaping how I listen to music. While I remember a fondness for Sonic Youth and The Cure before the fall of 1991, like many people, I was mesmerized when Nevermind found its way into my 13-year-old hands at a grade eight house party (where I also tried a cigarette for the first time – kids don’t smoke, it’s a nasty habit).

However, while Nevermind was the icebreaker, it was their much lesser-known debut album that really did a number on me. I still recall the first time I saw Bleach – it was in a dinky record shop at the Mountain Plaza Mall in Hamilton, Ontario. This was in a pre-internet time (early 1992), where you discovered music by one of three ways: 1) word of mouth, 2) magazines or 3) MuchMusic or MTV. My friend and I were bewildered, but eventually I bought the cassette and learned “Smells Like Teen Spirit” may have been the starting point for many, but it was not the beginning of Nirvana.

Bleach threw me off completely at first. From the misspelling of Kurt Cobain’s name (Kurdt Kobain) to the monochromatic, indistinguishable artwork to the fiendish, low-end growl emanating from the amps, I actually questioned that this was the same band seizing the charts from Michael Jackson and allegedly killing off “hair metal.” If anything, this was the album that should have initiated the grunge movement.

Nirvana’s debut recently turned the big 2-0 and it couldn’t have celebrated this milestone at a better time. The spirit of grunge is back in full force. Plaid flannel is everywhere, Doc Martens are becoming choice footwear once again and overdriven, fuzzed out guitars and albums made for around $606 are ruling the underground.

(And it isn’t just Nirvana. A slew of grunge’s torchbearers were active in 2009: Pearl Jam released their ninth album, Alice In Chains put out their reunion album with a new singer, the Melvins were remixed, amid protest Courtney Love announced her next album would be released under the Hole moniker, Soundgarden reunited twice – once with Tad Doyle, of all people, on vocals and then again at a Pearl Jam show to perform Temple of the Dog’s “Hunger Strike.” Also, Mudhoney also released a new album and deluxe edition of their Superfuzz Bigmuff comp last year.)

On Bleach, engineer Jack Endino captured the sludgy squall of Cobain’s guitars, as well as his gravelly squawk with a disturbingly ominous setting. The grind of “Negative Creep” has the consistency of what bubblegum death metal would sound like: chewy and refreshing yet with a hint of sinister. “Floyd the Barber” has that bellowing chug on the third beat that masked its melodic groove. Even the undeniable hooks of “About A Girl,” which later found its rightful fame on MTV Unplugged in New York, sounds dimmer than any of the band’s later singles. And I’ll argue to my death that “Paper Cuts” deserves recognition as a precursor for shaping doom metal’s rumbling noise.

Of course, Dave Grohl had yet to join the band at this point, and who knows what heartiness he could have brought to the dynamics, but I’ve never complained about the job that then-drummer Chad Channing and the Melvins’ Dale Crover (who pounded on three album tracks) did holding down the rhythm section with Krist Novoselic’s suffocating bass.

For Sub Pop’s deluxe edition of Bleach, Endino remastered the album, bringing up the levels for a welcome lift in the low fidelity of the original recording. Though it’s only one disc, it comes packaged with a 52-page booklet with candid photos of the band as well as a never-before-released live set recorded on February 9th, 1990 at the Pine Street Theatre in Portland, Oregon and remixed by Endino. Unfortunately for this live recording, it’s overshadowed by another recent release.

Nirvana’s Live At Reading was released simultaneously with Bleach, yet mostly because of Geffen’s efforts to block an unofficial bootleg that was in the works. Hailed as the band’s greatest gig they ever played, the long, long, long-awaited set comes as both a CD and DVD, both of which do their jobs representing the band’s character and control they flaunted as a live band.

The CD is but an audio take on the set that loses some of the memorable bits – Kurt famously being rolled out in a wheelchair wearing a wig and a hospital gown, leading into “Smells Like Teen Spirit” with a brief parody of Boston’s “More Than A Feeling,” the guy that just won’t stop pogoing on stage in between Kurt and Krist – but as a live album, it portrays that recklessness, humour and vitality that previous live collection From The Muddy Banks Of The Wishkah failed to.

The CD loses its weight compared to the DVD though. Considering the legacy Nirvana has maintained 15 years after the death of Cobain, Reading gives every “new” fan the opportunity to fully experience the experience. Seeing them on stage, the trio look Smurf-like (the wayward dancer helps fill the space) and aside from the odd goofy posturing by Novoselic, hardly move a muscle for most of the 25-song set. The thrill mostly comes in just knowing the history and witnessing a significant part of it. For example, one of the first airings of “All Apologies,” which Kurt dedicates to Courtney Love and their weeks-old baby Frances Bean, before fumbling the second verse to an unacquainted sea of disciples.

Nirvana weren’t born entertainers, but they knew how to make the most of such a mammoth platform like Reading. To finally witness this legendary performance is as meaningful as I’d hoped it would be. As they wind down “Territorial Pissings” and explode into an fumbling onslaught of chaos – Grohl uses his drum kit for target practice, Novoselic plays a game of catch with his bass, and Cobain enters the crowd so he can give away his lefty Strat – I’m reminded of why these guys were so pivotal in my life and every other 14-year-old kid’s. And also the scarring memory of passing on a chance to see them play Maple Leaf Gardens because I didn’t want to shell out $30 – especially considering Grohl’s Foo Fighters charge more than twice that for less half the value.

- Cam Lindsay