If any single group embodied rock music in the 1990s, it was Nirvana. Formed in the logging town of Aberdeen, Washington, in the late 1980s, Nirvana seemed destined to be a footnote in the history books due to its backwoods regional origins (the typically ignored Pacific Northwest of the United States) and its association with a underground genre (grunge) that had apparently already reached the maximum buzz possible in the music press by the end of that decade. Instead, the ensemble of singer/guitarist Kurt Cobain, bassist Krist Novoselic, and drummer Dave Grohl (the last in a long line of beat-keepers for the group, and the most integral) abruptly found itself pried from the indie label ghetto and thrown into the popular consciousness with its second album Nevermind in 1991, rubbing shoulders at the top of the pop charts with the biggest stars in the music industry. After that, all bets were off, and ‘90s rock became more vital, more jaded, and more reflective the emotions and concerns held by the emerging generation of young people reaching adulthood labeled Generation X than it had been under the reign of baby boomer dinosaurs and shallow hair-metal.
The unprecedented crossover success of such an abrasive alternative rock group and Cobain’s suicide at age 27 in 1994 certainly play a part in the propagation of the Nirvana legacy, but we wouldn’t still be talking about the group in such reverent tones if it wasn’t for the music. In a body of work that amounted to little more than three studio albums, a rarities compilation, and assorted stray tracks while the group was still active, Nirvana melded heavy riffs, captivating pop hooks, dynamic verse/chorus shifts, and soul-scarred catharsis together into relatively simple songs that expressed contradictory sensations in a way that made sense to those seeking thoughtful musings and moshpit soundtracks equally. Nirvana made it look effortless, and while the legion of flannel-wearing, distortion pedal-stomping wannabes that sprung up in its wake tried its best to cop the mannerisms and the cut-and-paste lyrics, few could articulate inarticulacy so well in a manner that rocked so hard.
Now nearly 20 years after Nevermind first conquered the mainstream, PopMatters will take a look at the ten best songs by alternative rock’s definitive and most important band. Nirvana may have left behind a small amount of music, but that doesn’t mean ranking its greatest tracks is a simple task.
Nowhere does Cobain’s love of the Beatles and R.E.M. come across clearer than on “About a Girl”, the jangly minor-key folk-rock anomaly amongst the murk of Bleach, Nirvana’s debut album for Seattle-based indie Sub Pop. Written at the behest of his girlfriend at the time, Cobain pines achingly through this number without relying on his standard quiet verse/loud chorus template. Although the original version on Bleach has its fans, it’s the acoustic rendition that opens MTV Unplugged in New York that has since become the song’s definitive incarnation.
“Sliver” was the moment where Nirvana became the Nirvana we all know and love. Having discovered not long before from the Pixies that noise and pop aren’t antithetical concepts, Nirvana laid down this non-album single with Mudhoney drummer Danny Peters that’s as catchy as it is anguished. Inspired by memories of his broken childhood, Cobain sings about being dropped off at his grandfolks’ home by neglectful parents in a sing-song melody that’s betrayed by the full-on rock-out choruses, thick distortion, and the emergence of his own pained howls. When Cobain screams “I woke up in my mother’s arms”, he shatters the twee pop myth of the pristine, innocent youth by revealing it to be a time rife with hurt.
Never mind that many details in the Francis Farmer biography Shadowland (Cobain’s source of inspiration and muse for this song from the band’s third and final album) are fictionalized. What matters is that the troubled actress acts as a metaphor for Cobain’s own feelings of persecution in the wake of a custody battle for his newborn daughter and media speculation about his drug use. In this rather sinister track, the ominous palm-muted rhythm guitar in the verse gives way to the violent power chord bursts, eventually giving way further to Cobain’s moaning chorus “I miss the comfort in being sad” and one killer bridge section riff. Be careful, because this victim will come back as fire to deliver retribution to all tormenters.
“Drain You” is the single from Nevermind that wasn’t. The catchiest song from the album’s second half, this simultaneously gross/sweet tale of a symbiotic relationship was relegated to b-side status on certain versions of the “Smells Like Teen Spirit” single. Following the band’s commercial ascendancy, Cobain’s protested that “Drain You” was superior to its a-side. It isn’t that good, but it is a fantastic tune that will have you humming along with unconventional romantic couplets like “With eyes so dilated I’ve become your pupil / You’ve taught me everything without a poison apple”. Special notice goes to the Sonic Youth-inspired instrumental interlude, which serves as a prime demonstration of the powerful chemistry Cobain, Novoselic, and Grohl generated together as musicians.
Nirvana had a knack for unforgettable intros, and the instantly recognizable muted single notes and occasional unrepressed double-stops that Cobain plucks on his guitar in the first few measures of “Lithium” are no exception. This joyous/desperate ode to finding religion is among the few Nirvana tunes where the quiet section is more compelling than the loud rock-out bits, as it allows the listener to fully savor the clever chord progression. On the other hand, there’s no denying the instinctual exhilaration that comes from hearing Cobain’s varying exclamations of the word “Yeah”, as if the manner he expresses himself in is more profound than the content.
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