“Good evening.  This is off our first record.  Most people don’t own it.”

This is how Kurt Cobain introduced “About a Girl,” the perfect opening song on a night when Nirvana’s music was actually going to be taken seriously.

MTV Unplugged was realized years earlier when Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora performed “Wanted Dead or Alive” on the MTV Video Music Awards acoustically.  The first ever episode featured Squeeze, Syd Straw and Elliot Easton.  Before Nirvana, some acts like Mariah Carey (memorable for her cover of The Jackson 5’s “I’ll Be There), Paul McCartney, Eric Clapton (the debut of “Tears In Heaven”) and Pearl Jam (Eddie Vedder writing Pro-Choice on his arm during the acoustic rendition of “Porch”) all had notable appearances.

Nirvana was a different monster.  This was a band that was known for being loud.  After all, they had just released their third studio album, “In Utero,” with hardcore producer Steve Albini; a man known for his blatant dislike of mainstream music and a musician in his own right with Chicago noise-makers Big Black.  Even Krist Novocelic, bassist, was concerned that it wasn’t truly “unplugged” since the acoustic instruments were plugged in.

But Kurt had a sound in mind that was far different from what people were used to.  He even spent much of rehearsals yelling at drummer Dave Grohl (known as one of the heaviest hitters behind a kit) to play quieter.  Dave almost gave up until a producer gave him a pair of Pro-Mark Hot Rod drum sticks, which are made from bundles of wood.  “We ran through a song and Kurt’s face lit up.  Those sticks saved the entire show,” he recalled.

This show also introduced many people to the final piece of Nirvana’s line-up: guitarist Pat Smear.  Pat was previously in the L.A. punk outfit Germs (whose singer, Darby Crash, was also a heroin addict who committed suicide from an intentional overdose – for more on them, see the film “What We Do Is Secret”).  Kurt had said he always pictured Nirvana as a four-piece and on this night it was serenely obvious why.

Other musicians also joined in on the iconic set, such as cellist Lori Goldston and the “Brothers Meat” as they were called, Thing 1 and Thing 2, Cris and Curt Kirkwood of the Meat Puppets.  This brings up a great point that I always point out about punk, especially Nirvana, when people don’t understand why it matters.  In the world of music, anyone can become famous at any time.  Sometimes it’s talent, sometimes it’s knowing the right people, sometimes it’s being in a particular city or getting on the right soundtrack… but what you do when you get that attention matters.  Bands like Green Day, who took The Queers on tour, Offspring, who wore a Germs shirt in their “Self Esteem” video, or Nirvana, who played three Meat Puppets songs mid-set, were constantly promoting the bands they grew up with, were contemporaries of, or who weren’t getting the deserved attention.  I didn’t buy a Buzzcocks album because some radio station played them, I checked them out because Dave Grohl wore their t-shirt on MTV.  I bought a Vaselines record because Nirvana covered “Jesus Doesn’t Want Me For a Sunbeam” on Unplugged and “Molly’s Lips” and “Son of a Gun” on Incesticide.  This is the proper use of the spotlight.

Maybe this is why the Unplugged album, when it was finally released in 1994, was certified 5x platinum.  Maybe it was Cobain’s death, but while he was alive, he made a genuine decision to dig deep into not only his own band’s catalogue, but also his inspirations.  Covering David Bowie, little known Scottish duo The Vaselines and blues legend Leadbelly proved to be just what alternative music needed at the height of its popularity: a little context.  Just because Nirvana knocked Michael Jackson out of the top spot on the Bilboard charts and, arguably, put the nail in the coffin of hair metal (a genre so ridiculously meta, not metal), this didn’t necessarily grant them longevity and historical deity-like stature.  They did that themselves with this show.  They opened with their most Beatle-esque tune off an album of rainy, heroin soaked sludge and ended with an Appalachian song doused in pain, emotional release and guttural regret (previously done by people like The Louvin Brothers, another tragic musical act) that no one asked for, but no one who heard it forgot.  Especially Kurt’s weight-of-the-world-on-his-shoulders exhale right at the end.

The band didn’t go out and play their most well-known tracks like they were recording a live greatest hits at Madison Square Garden.  They took the time to put together a setlist that quietly screamed at people: “Give up on Smells Like Teen Spirit.  That’s a Pixies rip-off.  This is what we’re capable of and where we may be going.”  They’d already gotten as loud and noisy as possible on record and still held an adoring fan base that grew only by the day.  Kurt had always admired the Beatles anyway.  This is why they never fit the “grunge mold,” and why that was a stupid label to begin with.  Kurt wrote pop songs.  You could hear it on Unplugged.  I’ve always held to the belief that if a song can’t be played on an acoustic guitar or a piano, it isn’t a song.  It’s just noise.  Which is fine.  But a song has a melody, at the very least – at its base.  And Nirvana had melodies.  Sure, they had quaking ducks and walls of feedback thrown into songs like “Drain You,” but those songs have memorable choruses, a pulsing beat and dynamic changes.

So, why talk about Nirvana “MTV Unplugged in New York”?  Why does the 20th Anniversary of some TV special marketed into an album because of an untimely death still matter some two decades later?

“Consider the lillies…” I want to say that Kurt was able to sing his own eulogy here, with the stage decorations, the lighting, the mood… the initial hesitance he exhibited by claiming most people didn’t own the first record by the biggest band in the world at the moment… and the raw, naked way his voice cried out by the end.

“Am I gonna do this by myself?”  Maybe it was the inner turmoil that poked its ugly head into some of the onstage banter (or maybe I’m reading into it based on hindsight and post-death interviews) that make me believe that maybe this was the end anyway.  Maybe this would have been their last televised appearance regardless.  Maybe this was goodbye.

“What else should I be?”  Maybe this is just all we have of a musician we put all our hopes into when he was here.  Maybe we’ve blown Nirvana’s importance out of proportion.  Considering Nirvana’s music is now over twenty years old, shouldn’t they be on radio stations next to Led Zeppelin and The Rolling Stones instead of trying to still get away with programming them along side Lorde and Florence + the Machine and Mumford and Sons, and what passes for “alternative” today?  There are about two generations of musical consumers who were born after Kurt left us and many of them say: “Ugh.  Enough with Nirvana.  They’re so overrated.”  And you know what.  Kurt would be fucking proud of them.  He hated it when kids listened to the same music as their parents.  So, while this album is nostalgically great for 30-40 year olds who liked Nirvana – if you’re under 30, go listen to some new bands.  Support your own generation.  Support your friends playing down the street in a firehall.  Start your own fucking band.  Start your own blog or label or YouTube page or Soundcloud account.  That’s what we should be taking away from this.  ANYONE can change the world.  You just have to find your voice.  So start screaming.

Nirvana said it best in this interview:

Watch the whole Unplugged performance here