Nirvana – ‘In Utero’
In the story of Nirvana, their 1991 sophomore effort Nevermind typically hogs all the plaudits. This is understandable. After all, the record made Kurt Cobain and the band cultural icons overnight off the back of era-defining hits such as ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ and ‘Come As You Are’. Not only was it significant for the band’s trajectory, but for music’s too. It sounded the arrival of the grunge scene and the message that in the 1990s, Generation X was taking no prisoners. The future had arrived, and it was theirs. This is all well and good; however, there’s a solid argument that their long-awaited follow-up, 1993’s In Utero, is better. That’s a camp I find myself in.
Darker, more robust and at points far more emotionally piercing than what came before it, this Steve Albini-produced masterclass sees the band largely return to their abrasive roots, semi-reminiscent of their debut, 1989’s Bleach. Concurrently, frontman Cobain conceived lyrics that heavily allude to the present complexity of his personal life and struggles, despite claiming it is a “very impersonal” body of work.
The anger and confusion of Nevermind remain In Utero. These sentiments are just taken to the more extreme levels that the group always teased. Take track two, ‘Scentless Apprentice,’ for example; whilst the music may not be the heaviest in comparison to black metal and other punishing forms, in terms of what is expressed, it ranks among one of the most frenzied pieces in rock. Whether it be the ominous thunder of Dave Grohl’s drums, the off-kilter menace of Cobain’s guitar – from the spikey riff to the chugging chords – or the frontman’s Wilhelm-esque screams towards the end; there’s emotional violence at play here, all served up with literary depth. You’d likely end up interred if you listened to this piece repeatedly. Such is the scope of the darkness contained in the track and In Utero.
Whilst ‘Scentless Apprentice’ is more frenetic than everything on Nevermind combined, it’s not the only piece demonstrating the increasingly murky morass the band found themselves in. The lead single and track three, ‘Heart-Shaped Box’, is another piece where the darkness is palpable.
Featuring one of Cobain’s best performances on the six-string, Krist Novoselic’s swollen bass and perennially confounding subject matter, the moment the band suspends on the low open D, with Cobain howling “Your advice” as the anguished bends of his guitar protrude, something strange happens to the psyche. Even the tiniest hairs on your body stand to attention. Via the power of the music, you start to appreciate what Nirvana experienced when constructing this record. Yet, none of us will ever truly understand it. However, it’s a testament to their collective musical ability that their sentiments are voiced so clearly through melody.
For all of the psychological terror that colours In Utero, the game-changing formula of Nirvana is still very much present. It serves to offset the spectre of emotional turmoil. The quiet-loud-quiet dynamics, Cobain’s proclivity for pop-oriented melodies and earworms are all flawless, augmented by the noisy production of Steve Albini. This helped them tap into the area they had always wanted, fusing the thorny sounds of the underground with those of heroes such as The Beatles more tightly than ever before.
In many ways, Albini helped elicit the trio’s most refined version. To do this, the group stayed in a house on the grounds of Pachyderm Studios. Later, Novoselic compared its isolated conditions to a gulag, “There was snow outside, we couldn’t go anywhere. We just worked.”
Reflecting the environmental puritanism that spurred the righteousness of In Utero, only Nirvana, Albini and technician Bob Weston were present for most of the sessions. Going back to basics, Nirvana made it clear to the label DGC and management company Gold Mountain that they wanted no intrusion. They even refused to play their work in progress for their A&R rep. In the best example of why Albini was the perfect man for the job, he instituted a policy of ignoring everyone bar the band. He later asserted that everyone he met associated with the trio were “the biggest pieces of shit I ever met”.
There’s no wonder, then, that In Utero is the sound of a band on heat, deeply ensconced in something akin to the storied flow state. Duly, it is the best reflection of their artistic capabilities. Whilst there are angry cuts like the aforementioned duo, ‘Milk It’, ‘Radio Friendly Unit Shifter’ and ‘Very Ape’, and other vintage Cobain pieces such as ‘Rape Me’, there’s also the slow acoustic and orchestral number ‘Dumb’, a classic Nirvana track in the self-effacing lyrics and moving music. Essentially, all bases are covered on this body of work.
Personally, ‘Pennyroyal Tea’ and the closing track ‘All Apologies’ are the pinnacle. Whilst Cobain claimed to have penned the former in under an hour, the chorus is one of the most euphoric things the band ever recorded, despite the subject matter being a combination of a herbal abortive and his experiences with depression and severe stomach pain. It makes you wonder if this type of heady, almost power-pop chorus would have been explored further if Nirvana had carried on. This question makes it a whole lot more invaluable. Oh, what might have been.
As for the latter, it’s one of the greatest closing tracks in history. It’s a perfect, if not profoundly depressing, means of bringing the curtain down on one of the most significant acts of all time. Although the Unplugged version is the one that’s suspended in the collective memory, there’s something about the electric version on In Utero that pips it. Cobain told Rolling Stone‘s David Fricke in 1993 that the song and the likes of ‘Dumb’ represent “the lighter, more dynamic” side of the group, meaning that for all the sincere apologies the frontman presents for himself, the music is a total inversion of the depressing image of Nirvana that dominates their story. Again, the power-pop influences are strong.
Cobain explained to Michael Azzerrad in 1993’s Come As You Are: The Story of Nirvana that regardless of the lyrical matter, he liked to think the song was for wife Courtney Love and daughter Frances Bean, summarising the mood of the piece as “peaceful, happy, comfort – just happy happiness.” Resultingly, with the end being nigh, Nirvana goes out in a blaze of glory here, with unfettered love conveyed. The solo says it all. As does the fact the band hired Scott Litt to remix it so we could all hear Cobain’s voice clearly. “All in all is all we are”, he repeats as the track winds down to its close. It’s epitaph-like.
A flawless way to bow out, Nirvana’s In Utero is one of the greatest ever made and will remain so forever.
