Baby Rock

IN UTERO
9/21/93

Almost two years to the day after their sophomore album shocked those parts of the world capable of being shocked by album sales, Nirvana released In Utero. Eager to distance themselves from Nevermind, the band insisted on a producer who could capture a sound closer to their punk rock spirit. Raw, abrasive, and free of suit-pleasing frills. Better, they wound up with an engineer, in the inimitable form of Steve Albini.

Albini gained notoriety as one of the American indie scene's most irascible figures as a member of Big Black, a band that reveled in sloppy scorching satire. Then he built on his reputation by helping other bands "record" their music--don't call him a producer--while refusing to impose his own tastes or go against his own ethics. Predictably, Nirvana's label were dismayed with what they heard, fearing radio would bristle and not push any of the singles. The band caved (somewhat) and Scott Litt was brought on to mix "Heart-Shaped Box" and "All Apologies." After some additional retouches (mainly in service of vocal volume), the label had an album that met their standards.

An album that debuted at #1 on its way to five million sold (half of its predecessor). An album that played over and over as I lay supine on the carpeted bedroom floor, surrounded by lifer stains and book stacks and the music that draped everything in a cloak of royal purple with hypothermic blue trim.

"Serve the Servants"--Take yer expectations and shove it up yers, his and hers. Rarely are fuck-offs so soothing.

"Scentless Apprentice"--The first of two songs inspired by books (Patrick Suskind's Perfume) went from Kurt humoring Dave to a pitiless stomp on a stubborn snake. Those wet-witch sounds confirm: this ain't Nevermind.

(In 2013, a new mix of the album, overseen by Albini, was released. Recommended if the drums on "Scentless Apprentice" scare you--or if the vocals don't scare you enough.)

"Heart Shaped Box"--Ideally, first singles shouldn't make listeners feel as though their skin is trying to stretch itself off the bone. The last line before the chorus shouldn't be a lament that you threw away your game of Hungry Hungry Cancer Cells. You know, ideally.

(Courtney Love claims "HSB" was written in honor of her sarlacc pit. Better this than "Mexican Seafood," s'pose.)

"Rape Me"--Feels Like Defanged Snake. Never cared much for this'un. Pin a medal on my chest, I guess, I just don't see circles as squares.

"Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle"--The biography of 1930s film actress (and Seattle's own) Frances Farmer, a woman who bucked the big studios and paid the price, so appealed to Kurt that he wrote this, which rewords the eternal question: Which emotion provides greater solace, anger or sorrow?

(Susan Faludi got a shout-out in the liners, how cool is that.)

"Dumb"--A pretty face can't make up for a boxy body, guys.

"Very Ape"--Plenty of backbone, still, I so wish it flew. Yes, mammals don't have wings, but they do have imaginations.

"Milk It"--Tainted with a substance that leaves the labellum numb, "Milk It" was a wearingly bullish track even prior to April 1994.

Somewhere in the Osage Plains of Missouri, a petulant man-child with chipped teeth and mouth sores suffered a headbangers stroke.

"Pennyroyal Tea"--The unofficial "last" single. Dude, if there really were a tea that induced abortions, I'd be writing this on a gold-plated silver toilet.

Dynamic shifts in music are easy; in lyrics, not as. "Pennyroyal Tea" hurts. Who calls themselves "anemic royalty" and long to spend eternity exhaling? Someone who hates life and wants to end it while also loving life and hoping it continues. Consistent contradictions that, when collected, comprise a warning.

"Radio Friendly Unit Shifter"--Finally, Kurt embraces his inner SY fanboy. Imagine my giddiness hearing this vigorous, vulgar thing. ("Second-rate third-degree burns" is probably my favorite lyric in a Nirvana song.) Forget the cast iron skillet, here's bacon grease for your face.

"Tourettes"--Fuck as punk. If only punks fucked.

"All Apologies"--The fetal imagery in which In Utero swims fascinated Cobain even before he became a father. "All Apologies" is the logical step forward into a dazzling world of domestic euphoria, where we return (however temporarily) to a pre-verbal state. People who focus on a single line miss the whole sentence: PEACE IS ATTAINABLE, RARELY SUSTAINABLE.



In Utero would be Nirvana's final studio album. On April 8, 1994, Kurt Cobain was found dead in his home, victim of a self-inflicted shotgun wound. The coroner's report estimated he had died three days prior to discovery.