But what followed was not your typical Unplugged. The next song, “Come As You Are,” re-created the burbling-underwater groove of the original, and other songs - “On a Plain” “Something in the Way” - felt beautifully bedraggled. (Not sure if that was true, since Nevermind sent many fans back to its predecessor, but, well, never mind.) The song was quieter than the studio version, and Grohl’s drum sticks were seen but barely heard, yet the song was as gripping as it was on Bleach, and you immediately sensed: Yes, this could work. Of course, Cobain was sporting that Fred Rogers sweater and playing an acoustic guitar (with hidden amplification), and the set opened with “About a Girl,” which he dryly introduced as from an album ( Bleach) most people didn’t know. And then we quieted down in order 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 mystery. 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. Twenty-five years ago today, Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged in New York arrived on CD, cassette, and VHS tape. Everyone remembers the sweater, but I mostly remember the hush.
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