Chewing Pine

Nirvana – “Lithium” (Live)

I’m still wondering how Kurt and Nirvana came up with so many songs over a time span that was less than a decade.  The entirety of the show from Leeds is all killer, though…

Nirvana – “1999″ (Video)

Not the best concept album coming outta the ’60s, but Nirvana drinks to the year 1999 – there shall be no arguing with that.

Brad Barr – The Fall Apartment (Tompkins Square, 2008)

Unfortunately or not, The Fall Apartment really has nothing to do with the Slip. That band’s metamorphosis over the years has encompassed a great deal of stylistic variety, but doesn’t ever really touch upon acoustic, instrumental guitar music. The lone, potential meeting of Barr’s group and his solo outing is that of production value. Even while this disc focuses on Barr’s guitar, there are occasional flares of studio treachery more commonly found in electric music.

The first time that some obvious tape hiss rears its head is on “War.” And coming after “Sarah Through the Wall,” with its complex, although at times academic progressions, “War” presents itself as a new idea amongst all the lonely guitar tracks. Sadly enough it begins in the same fashion that the M.A.S.H. theme song does. Pretty quickly the tune differentiates itself enough so that listeners don’t think about helicopters and medics. Deep in the mix, a ghostly stringed instrument rings out occasional chords as the tape hiss fills the holes that the guitar leaves. It’s an interesting, if perhaps under-developed idea.

The only other track from The Fall Apartment that boasts production in the same way is the penultimate track, “Do I Have to Understand That?”

Whereas “War” retains the album’s folksy direction, “Do I…” seems like an ambient interlude from a rock record. Echoed percussion and the plucking of strings back-up an occasional electric guitar chord or screetch. More importantly than the sounds flying from this track is it’s sequencing on the album. Were this track placed at the very end of the recording, it would have served the album more fully as a whole. As it is, the following number, “Seranetta,” another lonely ballad, seems disconnected from the rest of the disc. This one flaw doesn’t greatly detract from the recording, but could have worked to create a more unified offering.

If this all sounded liking whining, it shouldn’t. ‘Cause Barr has balls enough to turn in an interpretation of Nirvana’s “Heart Shaped Box,” which surprisingly retains a tremendous amount of its initial fervor and ferocity. Who knew?

Nirvana – Unplugged in New York (Geffen, 2007)

No one wants to hear this, but to a certain extent, this performance being released on DVD really doesn’t matter. The cultural impact, while probably continuing to be inspiring in one way or another to disaffected youth, has been felt. Whether or not this performance is comparable to any actual studio album of the trio is subject to debate. But, perhaps the Incestiside albums function in the same manner that this disc/release works.

Of course, the band runs through now classics, but not necessarily their hit singles, save for “Come as You Are”. A variety of people, not a part of the Nevermind crew, affect this performance in untold ways. Arguably the most important, Pat Smear joined Nirvana after being contacted by Cobain while working at a record store in L.A. Who cares you ask? Well, no one will ever fault Smear for being a virtuoso, but his efforts with Lorna Doom and Darby Crash worked the minds of kids maybe almost as much as any other L.A. band. And that’s why he was brought into the fold. But simply his presence and the initial shock of being a viewer of this televised event, wondering and eventually finding out who he was, changed the listening habits of innumerable teens following this performance.

Two Brothers enter the frame for a few songs from an album simply titled II. Now, arguments may follow regarding the most forward thinking independent record of the ‘80s, but amongst the pontificating of that discussion would no doubt be a mention of II, which the brothers Kirkwood came to perform with Nirvana on that night. Again, the introduction of a still vital band, although seemingly commercially un-viable, on national television had incalculable impact on viewers, kids in general and the Meat Puppets themselves.

The collaboration on “Plateau”, “Oh, Me” and “Lake of Fire” instantly shows that not only was Cobain a voracious fan of the Puppets, but music in general. In addition to the exposure that the brothers were given, Cobain plays a selection by a Scottish band called the Vaselines. Oddly enough, the label that helped Nirvana on their way, Sub Pop, two years previous to this performance, released a compilation of their work.

Aside from the music on here, which is obviously sought after enough for bootleg versions of the performance to circulate on eBay, audiences were given a glimpse into the mood of Cobain. He’s occasionally funny, telling the crowd that they can wait as he begins a song in a key he hasn’t necessarily rehearsed. But he also seems rather confident and comfortable with his musical buddies. There are moments, during close ups, when perhaps he looks a bit shaky and no one will really know exactly what to attribute that to: drugs or nerves.

That answer doesn’t relay matter, nor does the debate that this release will no doubt re-kindle regarding Cobain’s and Nirvana’s direction in the event that he past up suicide and continued on. This is simply a document of a musician, who for a time was able to capture the world with his simple songs. And unfortunately there won’t be anymore.