Nirvana:

Sound of Dentage

Foreword

I am not the first to tell you what you already know about Nirvana. Their legend status has only been elevated by a culture that seems to grow further from knowing what an actual rock star is every generation. The fact that every third rapper these days wishes he was Kurt Cobain is proof positive enough both that Nirvana's legacy has yet to die and that Nirvana's legend has been depleted. They're the entry-level alternative band—a very, very good one, certainly one of my introductions, but an introduction nonetheless.

Instead, I want to focus on the appeal of Nirvana's rarities. Bands commonly record demos—virtually all of them. Home demos, once on a 4-track and now on phones and into computer mics. Studio demos, either on cheap studio time or on a Portastudio in a friend's garage. You get your ideas down somehow, and Nirvana left behind nine years worth of demos, scrapped albums, jams, and jokes, the vast majority of which have seen release in my (short) lifetime.

What makes Nirvana's special? Why have entire fansites popped up to catalog the dates and stories behind every single one of their sessions? What's made these worth passing around on bootlegs in failing quality, highly-generated dub-of-a-dub murk to scores of hopeful fans? Most personally, why was I drawn to them at a ripe 9 years old, spending days in a school computer lab reading everything LiveNIRVANA and the NFC had to offer?

I think it firstly comes down to the stories. With all the gory details about everything from Kurt's working habits, choice of producers, said producers' studio techniques, equipment used, both musical and technical, and tensions and celebrations throughout, Nirvana's story (even disregarding Kurt specifically) is a fascinating one. Behind each of their albums are three men at very different stages of their careers. The Dale Demo was recorded in a single day on so little money, they had to borrow a drummer. Nevermind was a rather peaceful (yet idiosyncratic and combustible) come-up on Geffen's dime. In Utero saw the increasingly-frayed band pump out an album's worth of goods like nothing—and then suffer the results in post.

Paired with these stories isn't just bullshit and bluster—it's songwriting. Consider that a track like "Blandest" was tossed for being unfinished, potentially lost to history if not for a mixdown cassette Chad Channing took with him, and its chorus is pure Kurt, strong and poppy even as its verses meander and its middle eight jams. That's the chaff we're dealing with. That a band would record something as strong, warm, and lovely to listen to in its entirety as the Smart 1990 sessions and then use it as a mere demo to sign to a major is evidence Nirvana were no average punk band.

Nirvana's camp have seen fit to let their (and especially Kurt's) early recordings trickle out on increasingly-desperate and unflattering cash grabs since 2004, when With the Lights Out took its spot in their catalog as a fascinating, if flawed, collection of them. The reissues of Nevermind and In Utero came stocked with rehearsals and alternate mixes; for completionists only, sure, but as a completionist, I appreciated them. Then Montage of Heck came out and proved the well had about run dry, that the vultures had picked the flesh clean and beetles were now enjoying the bone meal.

Save for a scant few sessions, Nirvana's rarities are all out in the open by now. So why my attempt at a boxset in particular?

In 2019, for the 15th anniversary of With the Lights Out, I dutifully revisited the set in a post on a blog I share with my art collective. It's a scattershot listen, just strong enough that the good stuff buoys up rather forgettable acoustic renditions of "Sliver" or "All Apologies" or outright fucking garbage like "Beans". And honestly, I was happy enough with everything there. I still treasure With the Lights Out, regardless of all its faults. It's Nirvana, rare Nirvana—how could I not?

Yet, I later learned that someone involved with putting the boxset together had leaked around 100 total cuts, either unmastered versions of songs that made it to print, the full sources for the more notable sessions that only appeared in chunks, and occasionally, material we hadn't gotten period, under the name Elmo. It's really quite the sight, having all that material in your hands after years of wondering about it.

As a way to make up for my Monday morning quarterbacking, I decided to piece together my own With the Lights Out, seeking out bootlegs and other unreleased material to fill the gaps of what I felt that boxset left out. In addition, where I could fix Geffen's mastering booboos (like with "About a Girl" and "Drain You" being sourced from lossy), I used much better sources, and where I couldn't avoid resorting to tracks from With the Lights Out, I made sure to duck the audio so everything plays at a good level.

So really, I should reiterate, before anyone takes what I'm doing as me arrogantly attempting to put some definitive spin on this band above everyone else's definitive spin: this is really just what I think the boxset should've been. I took stock of every source I had available to me, most of which are available free online and in lossless to boot, and then edited and sequenced it all to play as a slightly more succinct, and in my opinion more flattering and better quality, version of With the Lights Out's three discs.

I'd also like to take a moment to thank each of the leakers, bootleggers, and anonymous souls who made it possible for me to put this set together in the first place. Seriously, Elmo, Blue Moon, John W. Busher, Primadonna, and all the folks at LiveNIRVANA and in the trading circles who catalogued all this for me to dig through for endless nights, now and back then: you're all absolute legends. I just compiled it to my tastes.

I leave you with my sources and notes for the whole set. Enjoy.

Disc One: 1986-1989

"Why is this happening to me? Why is this real?"

Disc Two: 1990-1991

"Kurt Cobain's here. You know, Kurt Cobain, from Aberdeen?"

Disc Three: 1992-1994

"Could you hand me the ashtray?"

Downloads

No word on how long these will stay up, given my wanton reuse of copyrighted material. I've got them in FLAC and MP3 (VBR, v3). Contact me at mariteaux@somnolescent.net if these ever go down and I'll see about getting you a copy.

• FLAC [1.3GB]
• MP3 [247MB]
  

This page last updated April 28, 2021.

The page styling is half-fitting cammy.somnol and half-a tribute to the old DigitalNirvana sessions guide. Uh, how do I do a link within a link...

(Here you go, genuinely lovely that it's still up despite there being better alternatives now)