Dark Side of the Womb: Part 1

Melody Maker - August 21th, 1993

At bloody last! After months of speculation, controversy, title-changes, track-swapping, and the Steve Albini-inspired melodramatics over whether Geffen would even put it out, NIRVANA are finally set to release ‘In Utero’, the follow-up to ‘Nevermind’. So what’s it like? Is it just a tame re-run of its 10 million-selling predecessor? Or is it a provocative noise fest, a sonic punk blast designed to piss off everyone except their hardcore fans? The Stud Brothers tracked down a tired and emotional Kurt Cobain in New York for the answers to these questions and more in the first part of an exclusive in-depth interview.


"My A&R man called me up one night and said ‘I don’t like the record, it sounds like crap, there’s way too much effect on the drums, you can’t hear the vocals.’ He didn’t think the songwriting was up to par. And having your A&R man say that is kind of like having your father or stepfather telling you to take out the trash.

"I was kind of hurt by it on a personal level, because I wanted him to like it, and it was surprising to hear so many negative things about it. And he wasn’t alone in his opinion. A few other people - our management, our lawyers - didn’t like the record either."

He sounds distant, ghostly, and he looks unsettlingly strange. Sitting at the head of a large conference table in New York’s Omni Berkshire hotel, the top of Kurt Cobain’s dangerously thin frame is wrapped in a rib-huggingly tight pink nylon shirt. His pale blue eyes, pinprink pupils dancing paranoiacally from left to right, are heavily, sluttishly made up. His mouth, bearing the remnants of scarlet lipstick, seems both vulgar and sensual. The beard doesn’t help much. Kurt’s fingernails, painted crimson, are chewed down to neurotic cuticles.

He’s also tired, immensely tired.

When he settles a little, his eyelids close to reptilian half-moons. Kurt has spent three days doing The British Press. Or, rather, three afternoons, since he rarely surfaces before two pm, and three nights.

He’s also spent about the same length of time dodging the press, largely, we think, on the advice of his wife, Courtney Love, who’s made a mental blacklist of hacks deemed unsound and told Kurt to avoid them.

Kurt delays them, fights with Courtney, then meets them and apologizes profusely for having kept them waiting for the last 48 hours.

We’re talking to him about "In Utero", Nirvana’s third album.

"In Utero", originally titled "I Hate Myself And I Want To Die", generated controversy almost before it was even written. Many in the music industry had convinced themselves that the pressure on the singer to follow up the 10-million-selling "Nevermind", coupled with Cobain’s alleged drug problems and the (supposedly) even more pernicious influence of his wife, had left him creatively void.

Given this, pop pundits speculated that "In Utero" would be a petulant punk cop-out, an album designed to excuse its lack of sales, an album that would lose them their fan-base as quickly as "Nevermind" had gained it. It would be The Beastie Boys all over again.

This idea was lent some credence when, earlier this year, the album’s producer, Steve Albini, gave an interview to the Chicago Tribune wherein he claimed that Nirvana’s label, Geffen, had put pressure on the band to "clean up" tracks recorded by him. A month later, he repeated these allegations in the international publication, Newsweek. Kurt Cobain responded by telling Newsweek, Melody Maker and anyone else who cared to listen’ (which was everyone) that, though the band did indeed intend to remix some tracks from the album, it had nothing to do with pressure from the record company.

In May, Albini, in an interview with Melody Maker, adopted a more conciliatory tone. "Right now," he explained. "we have national and international publications writing news stories about rumours of people’s opinions. All of that, to me, marks irresponsible journalism. From now on, people should just speak to the band."

Which is what we’re doing now. And, from what Cobain’s saying - A&R men, lawyers and management saying the album was crap - Albini sounds like he had a point.

"No, no," says Cobain, wearily. "The whole thing was Steve’s fault. He initiated the whole problem by convincing himself that people were out to get him, to discredit him. He’s a paranoid person in general. He’s told me a lot of terrible stories about how he’s been fucked around by major labels, how they’ve insisted on remixing the stuff he’s done, so it’s understandable. But he really had no reason whatsoever to be as paranoid as he was.

"Basically, he heard from me - about a week after we got back from recording - that my A&R man had said he didn’t like the record. But the thing to understand is that it never went beyond that, just these people expressing their opinion. There was no hint or threat, no suggestion came from any of these people that we should re-record.

"Obviously, though they never said it, they wanted us to re-record, or at least re-mix, but at that time I couldn’t really say much to anyone because I wasn’t sure myself what I wanted to change on the album.

"The first time I played it at home, I knew there was something wrong. I wasn’t interested in listening to it at all, and that usually doesn’t happen. I got no emotion from it, I was just numb.

"So for three weeks Chris and Dave and I listened to the record every night, trying to figure out what was wrong with it, and we talked about it and decided the vocals weren’t loud enough, the bass was inaudible and you couldn’t hear the lyrics. That was about it.

"We knew we couldn’t possibly re-record because we knew we’d achieved the sound we wanted - the basic sound was typical Steve Albini, which was the sound we wanted really bad. So we decided to remix two of our favourite tracks, just as a litmus test, and we left it at that because to remix any more would’ve destroyed the ambience of the whole thing."

"We decided to take a chance on mastering, which we really didn’t understand. We thought it was the last stage in the process where you just take the tapes in and run them through a machine that allows you to cut it onto a record, or whatever. So we went to the mastering plant and learned that you can actually take the vocals right out if you want to. It’s amazing, it’s practically like remixing."

"So that’s what we did ,we just gave the bass more high-end so you could hear the notes, turned the vocals up, maybe compressed it a little, and that did it, cured everything. As soon as we’d done it, we knew we’d made the right decision, it was over. And now I wouldn’t change anything on it, I’m 100 per cent satisfied."

The two tracks remixed (by Scott Litt, who produced the last four R.E.M. albums) were "Heart-Shaped Box" and "All Apologies" ... both potentially enormous singles. The remastering of the album was carried out by the band themselves. As Cobain admits, remastering is "practically like remixing". Can’t he understand why Albini is angry?

"I don’t think he’s angry any more. I just think he was trying to protect himself before he had any evidence that he was being fucked with. Like I say, it’s understandable because he’s told me some really nasty stories about what’s been done to him. But, still, I can’t help but resent him for jumping the gun."

This is all somewhat surprising given that Cobain was fully aware of Albini’s "difficult" reputation. Cobain actually said of him: "He’s made a career out of being anti-Rock Establishment." Blast First supremo, Paul Smith, one of Albini’s closest friends, remembers walking down a street with him once in Chicago - "Within two blocks, three people had yelled, ‘Fuck you, Albini!"’ Reasonable pragmatists do not front bands called Rapeman.

If the biggest band in the world invites a man like Albini to produce their album, they surely don’t have to be mystics to realise that at some point, in some way, he’s gonna fuck with them.

"Well, I don’t really think that necessarily follows," says Cobain. "I’ve always respected him as a producer, mainly, probably solely, because of the Pixies record and the Breeders record. I found him to be surprisingly pleasant when we showed up in Minneapolis, didn’t find anything wrong with his personality. I just think he worked too fast for our tastes, especially when mixing. He wanted to mix a song in an hour. He has this theory that if something you transfer onto tape isn’t immediately satisfying to you there’s no point remixing, you might as well throw it away and start again. I don’t know why he’s so against mixing but he is, and we’re not used to working like that anymore.

"With our first record, we had to work that fast and we were lucky to achieve that sound, which turned out to be unique."

Have you spoken to Albini since?

"No," he says, firmly. "I don’t have any desire to talk to him again."

"In Utero" is not a difficult album.

In fact, even the recent Melody Maker preview of it exaggerated its peculiarities, If anything, Cobain’s songwriting is moving towards the more considered and melodic. Some songs — notably "Rape Me", "Serve The Servants" and "Dumb", each of them simple, compelling and extraordinarily mellifluous — would sound as effective framed by the delicate timbre of an acoustic guitar as they arc electrified. On the album’s final track, "All Apologies", the warm tones of a cello are even audible.

Of course, as with "Nevermind", there are out-and-out punk tracks. Some are very effective, like the primal "Scentless Apprentice", others are not much more than a (rather dull) blast of bile, like "Very Ape" and "Tourrets".

Overall, it’s a more refined album than "Nevermind" in that the songwriting’s more sophisticated, though it lacks the crystalline clarity producer that Butch Vig afforded its predecessor. Like "Nevermind", "In Utero" is not a particularly radical album. Its subversive qualities will be largely dictated by the number of people who buy it.

So was there ever a temptation, as was rumoured, to record something more contentious?

"Not so much," says Cobain. "Obviously there was a lot of pressure on us to come up with ‘Nevermind II’. But I can’t consider that to be pressure, it was just what a lot of people expected. The only reason I would’ve put out a really aggressive, raw album would have been to piss people off, to get rid of half of our audience and more"

‘After all the shit I’ve had to read about me, and especially my wife, in the last year and a half, I should’ve put out a really hateful record. I should’ve sued every chance I had to attack people. I wanted to, but there’s no point. I’m already known as a cry-baby whiner’ – Kurt Cobain

Why would you want to do that?

"Because at the time we weren’t comfortable with our audience."

Are you more comfortable now?

"Yeah. But it took me two years to recuperate from that."

Following the success of "Nevermind", Cobain, bassist Chris Novoselic and drummer Dove Grohl spent unhealthy amounts of time deriding their new audience, dismissing them as jock meat-heads. At the time, it struck many as ungrateful and, more to the point, actually seemed to miss the point.

Surely one of the great things about Nirvana was that they recorded an indie album that went mainstream and, in doing so, proved that the great record-buying public, far from being congenitally conservative, were in fact open to new ideas. Nirvana proved that things didn’t have to stay the same, musically at any rate.

Do you regret saying any of those things now?

"Yeah, I do. I do, but the point we were trying to get across was never stated in the right way. I was upset about finding myself having to play in front of really rude, sexist jerks. I’d never had any desire to play to people like that and I never expected to have to.

"It’s all very well saying, ‘Well, you signed to a major, so you should expect that’ But we’d seen Sonic Youth put out an album on the some label and they’d barely got a larger audience, they were playing the same smaller venues, and we thought it’d be the same for us. I think it was a matter of us not realising how commercial we really were.

"You know, a person can say a lot of stupid things when they’re going through stressful times in their life. I don’t regret the majority of things I was trying to convey, but they didn’t really translate right. And there were a handful of things I can remember that I really do regret us saying.

"Like when Chris said, ‘For the most part, heavy metal kids are just stupid.’ I couldn’t say that. I was a heavy metal kid at one time. That’s just way too insulting, it’s too extreme a thing to say. You have to elaborate on things like that, or not say them at all."

Attendant to Nirvana’s derisory remarks about their new fans was Cobain’s apparent guilt about his new-found success. In the interviews he gave after "Nevermind" took off, he filled unseemly column inches whinging about the indignity of being recognised in the street and the appalling amounts of money that’d been foisted upon him.

To those who’ve never stood onstage, with 50,000 people hanging on their every word, or received million dollar royalty cheques, this sound a little odd, not to say offensive.

Is there nothing you enjoy about it at all?

"I enjoy the opportunity to try to affect the jock-type people, but that was an opportunity that came-to us after the fact, without us even really wanting it. But I do enjoy it now."

But you don’t exactly seem to enjoy the wealth.

"I enjoy the wealth because it means we can afford a nanny, which is extremely helpful. Especially the nanny we’ve found, this 21 -year-old guy from California who was a friend of Courtney’s and has become one of my best friends. He takes great care of our baby, which is great to know. And it’s great to know that if my car breaks down I can take it into the shop and not have to scrape around for money to get it fixed.

"But I’m not nearly as wealthy as people think. I know it’s to be expected that people think I am wealthy, they’ll think, ‘You sold 10 million albums, so that’s 10 million dollars.’ But it’s not. I made a million dollars off that record. Over 300,000 dollars went on taxes, there were legal problems and medical bills because we didn’t get insurance in time. I found myself spending all that money, all at once, all in that one year. I also bought a house, too."

Are you honestly saying you’ve got nothing left?

"I do now because a little bit more royalties have come through and we got the advance for this new record. And also in the last year I’ve gotten a bit more of a percentage on the songwriting royalties. I get a fair bit more than Chris and Dave do because I write 99 per cent of the songs. I just felt entitled to it, you know?

"At the time, when we were signing contracts and stuff like that, it was always divided equally and that was fine. But I never realised I would became a millionaire and then, all of a sudden, need money. It’s a ridiculous situation really."

Until recently, all band profits were split evenly between the three members. Did Chris and Dave mind this new arrangement?

"Well, we didn’t agree on it right away. It took a bit of convincing on my part. I still believe in all-for-one, one-for-all, you know. We’re a group, we’re a three-piece. Chris and Dave are equally as important as I am as far as the persona of the band goes, in the way we’re perceived. We’re perceived as a band. But I had written 99 per cent of the songs and many were the times I’ve Chris’ bass away from him and shown him what to play, and sat behind Dave’s drumkit and shown him what to play, stuff like that. I don’t enjoy being in that sort of dictatorship position, but I came up with the songs at home and introduced the songs to the band and I could be asking for a lot more.

"I’ve been blown away by stories of how other bands split their percentages. Like, Perry Farrell in Jane’s Addiction got 90 per cent of everything, just cos he’s the lead singer. But he didn’t write all the songs. I know the bass player and guitar player wrote a lot of the music, 50 per cent or more.

"In The Pixies, Frank Block had those people on commission, you know. So when I found out about things like that and I found myself needing money, I didn’t feel guilty about asking for a higher percentage. And, anyway, it’s only in one area of payment, just the songwriting credits. We still split the touring money, and royalties off the record, and stuff like that. It’s only an extra few thousand dollars a year or something. But it was a touchy subject at the time. I felt really guilt about it. I just feel I’m entitled to it."

Cobain's capacity for guilt rates as positively Catholic. "In Utero" appears to be riddled with it.

"Penny Royal Tea" reads like a bitter rejection of money. "I Hate Myself And I Want To Die", which may not appear on the finished album, kind of speaks for itself. As does "Rape Me". Real sackcloth and ashes stuff.

Like we say, "In Utero" is riddled with guilt.

"Really? Where?"

Well "All Apologies" for one. Unless you’re being heavily ironic.

"That’s a very, very sarcastic song."

What about the line, "I do not want what I have got", from "Radio-Friendly Unit Shifter"?

"I just thought that had a nice ring to it. Also, it’s kind of a pisstake on Sinead O’Connor. I dunno, I just wish things weren’t token so literally. Really, after all the shit I’ve had to read about me – and especially my wife – in the last year and a haIf, I should’ve put out a really hateful record. I should’ve used every chance I had to attack people. I wanted to, I feel that strongly about it, but there’s just no point. I’m already known as a cry-baby whiner."

It’s true that "In Utero" isn’t as lyrically direct or brutal as Cobain threatened it would be. Was that deliberate?

"Yeah. I did take a few shots at the media and some of the other things that’ve happened to us. But, for the most part, I made sure not to complain. I really tried not to."

But on "Heart-Shaped Box" the chorus goes "Hey/Wait/I’ve got a new complaint".

"That’s just me giving an example of how I’m perceived. People don’t realise that I’ll say something and it’ll be quoted in an article, then it’ll be taken out and used in another article in a different place, and then again, and then again. I’ll only have said it once but it looks like I’m complaining all the time. People also don’t realise that in all the interviews before ‘Nevermind’ come out, and in the first few months afterwards, we had different perspectives on what our band was. We just went into it very blindly. We didn’t realise how many interviews we were doing, just knew that we were exhausted every night after talking for hours on end.

"So suddenly, there’s a stack of magazines, all with us on the cover, all with incredibly similar articles, the same fucking story over and over, because we were always asked the some questions, over and over for four months. So I guess it’s understandable that people thought we were totally pissed off about our audience, that we hated everything, corporations, everything."

So, Cobain the whining anarchist millionaire was a media fabrication.

Do you still whinge about stuff?

"Only when I’m asked about it, usually."

So you’re a natural whiner?

"No, not at all," he smiles. "Courtney and I just talk to each other about it. She has a pretty good idea how the media works and stuff. I’ve never really paid attention to it. No, I’d never think of boring my friends complaining about shit like that. I don’t complain about anything as much as I used to. In the last year or so, I’ve become a lot more optimistic about everything.

"Having a wife and child can obviously change your perspective on things. Like, two years ago I never thought about the future, not at all. But now I have this huge responsibility to my family and it’s probably more pressure than I’ve ever had dealing with this band. Now I’m thinking about not leaving the child in the car, not even for a second, in case someone snatches her, all kinds of things like that.

"In the last year and a half, even before we found out Courtney was pregnant, I’ve started to evolve a little bit from being a completely negative bastard, pretending to be punk rock and hating the world, and saying clichéd things like, ‘Anyone who brings a child into the world at this point is completely selfish.’"

Did you plan to have the child?

"We wanted to have a baby. We definitely wanted to have a baby."

So it was a conscious choice.

"Yeah. Definitely." He pauses. "But not at that time. It happened too soon. I really wish it could have waited. But, then again, I don’t know if we’d have had Frances. Every sperm is different, and I’m really glad we had Frances. I’m totally happy about my family situation."

Are you a doting father?

"Oh yeah, embarrassingly so. I’m always making noises and acting the fool. It’s really fun though, it gives me an excuse to do that again. And it’s great to have Frances around. We took her to the photo shoot today and it took my mind off the monotony of having to stand in front of the camera. Every few seconds, I would look over to Frances and make fart noises to make her smile."

There are references to childbirth and children on "In Utero".

"Are there?"

He looks genuinely puzzled.

Well, there’s the title to begin with, and the smell of babies stuff in "Scentless Apprentice", and you mention the umbilical cord in "Heart-Shaped Box". Were you thinking about Frances when you wrote those songs?

"Probably. Actually, "Heart-Shaped Box’ might’ve been one of my pieces of poems. I know a lot of the words to that song are from poems. It’s just another of those songs that are pretty much wordplay. I didn’t have any specific idea."

Ignoring the lines that appear to have an explicit meaning — about guilt, childbirth, the media, etc — or rather, reading them as a stream of consciousness, "In Utero" appears extremely abstract, almost as if the lyrics were a series of cut-ups.

"Yeah, absolutely. Almost all my lyrics have been cut-ups, pieces of poetry and stuff."

So they’re not intended to mean anything.

"No. And the pieces of poetry are token from poems that don’t usually have meaning in the first place. They were cut-ups themselves. And often I’ll have to obscure the pieces I take to make them fit in the song, so they’re not even true pieces of poem. But this is the first record where I’ve written at least a couple of songs thematically.

"‘Scentless Apprentice’ is one. And ‘Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle’ is about her, about the way she was exploited in her life."

The lyric for "Dumb" seems peculiarly direct, a song about life’s simple, silly little pleasures. Like "I think I’m dumb/Or maybe just happy." Is it intended to reflect that new-found optimism you’ve mentioned, or should we be reading it ironically?

"That’s just about people who’re easily amused, people who not only aren’t capable of progressing their intelligence but are totally happy watching 10 hours of television and really enjoy it. I’ve met a lot of dumb people. They have a shitty job, they may be totally lonely, they don’t have a girlfriend, they don’t have much of a social life, and yet, for some reason, they’re happy."

Are you ever envious of them?

"At times. I wish I could take a pill that would allow me to be amused by television and just enjoy the simple things instead of being so judgmental and expecting real good quality instead of shit. And just using the word ‘Happy’ I thought was a nice twist on the negative stuff we’ve done before."

So this has a negative tone, too –you’ve just hidden it?

"Yeah," he laughs.

He leans back in his chair. Sitting at the top of the conference table, a table that’s played host to Donald Trump and Mario Cuomo, and whose vast expanse is littered with bottles of Perrier and frosted jugs of fruit juice, dressed like he’s dressed (a smeared She-Male), he makes it look like the revolution really has happened. A revolution of some sort anyway.

Nirvana Trump.