And then we quieted down to get a handle on what exactly we were going to hear - the 1993 equivalent of a new album dropping at midnight without any music drifting out in advance. Everyone cheered as he, Dave Grohl, and Krist Novoselic, joined by new guitarist Pat Smear (and cellist Lori Goldstone on a few songs), settled in behind their instruments.
(As one of my co-workers, Bruce Fretts, recalls, “It struck me that maybe they wanted cooler-looking people down front on camera.” They were probably right.) We took note of the beautiful if gloomy staging, watched as camera people made last-minute adjustments, and saw Cobain emerge on the other side of the room and talk to a few stunned fans in the front row. Hardly anyone had a mobile phone in 1993.Īt the time, I was working for Entertainment Weekly, and several colleagues joined me as we were seated in the far corner of the last row of bleachers. But what would Nirvana “unplugged” be? No one had taped rehearsal footage on a cell phone and leaked it. (It was easy to imagine “Dream On” with just a piano, acoustic guitars, and lighter drumming.) But how would Cobain’s songs come across in this format? Few of us had ever heard the band without tinnitus-inducing volume - in fact, just a few days before, they had played a loud, raucous show at a dreary, sound-deadening concrete slab of a venue, the now thankfully demolished New York Coliseum. In most of those previous cases, you pretty much knew how the songs would sound before the show aired. Yet as we all settled into our seats - fans, celebrities (Kate Moss), rock stars (members of Sonic Youth), media, and industry types - the prevalent feeling in the air was a mystery. None of us knew that Cobain hadn’t washed his hair in more than a week. There were even disputes between the band and network over the stage set.
Cobain was going through withdrawal that morning. MTV brass wasn’t thrilled when the promised guests turned out to be the Meat Puppets and not, say, anyone from Pearl Jam. Since Nirvana had never performed without full-on electricity, the rehearsals were tense. Thanks to accounts that have emerged since we now know what was taking place in the days leading up to that taping. So most of us also assumed an unamplified Nirvana set would include songs from In Utero, which had dropped a little more than a month before. Paul McCartney, Eric Clapton, LL Cool J, Rod Stewart, Neil Young, and Aerosmith, among many, had already taped Unplugged episodes to promote new records. By the fall of 1993, Unplugged wasn’t simply one of MTV’s biggest franchises but practically part of every act’s marketing plan. We knew Cobain didn’t seem all that happy being a rock star and that Nirvana was essentially acquiescing to industry dictates by taping one of these shows. In those pre-social media days, those of us lucky enough to score tickets to the taping thought we knew what to expect as we were escorted into the Sony Studio just north of Times Square. That mood wasn’t reflected simply in the look of the stage - which, with its flowers and candles, eerily evoked the “funeral” scenario Cobain was aiming for - but also in the toned-down performances of “All Apologies,” “Come As You Are,” and versions of songs by the Meat Puppets, the Vaselines, and Lead Belly. By then, Kurt Cobain had been dead nearly seven months, and the appearance of this largely acoustic performance taped nearly a year before, took on the feel of a memorial service. Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged in New York arrived on CD, cassette, and VHS tape. Nirvana at the 'MTV Unplugged in New York' taping, November 18th, 1993.
0 kommentar(er)
