

Most of what we witnessed up close is on the released footage, like the moment before “Pennyroyal Tea” when Cobain shrugs, “OK, but here’s another one I could screw up.” Yet for all its ramshackle charm, what was also striking was how together the performance was. The mood in the warehouse-large studio wasn’t what anyone would call relaxed - with his stringy hair and feral gaze, Cobain couldn’t quite pull off the Frisbee-flinging troubadour vibe - yet the feel was undeniably intimate. After each song, there was enthusiastic applause, and then the room would again become a grunge-folk mass. As everyone saw for themselves months later on the video (now DVD), we heard only a few of their best-known songs, along with self-deprecating Cobain comments (for instance, whether he was going to “screw this song up,” before playing David Bowie’s “The Man Who Sold the World”).

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. None of us knew that Cobain hadn’t washed his hair in more than a week.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. There were even disputes between the band and network over the stage set. Cobain was going through withdrawal that morning. MTV brass weren’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.

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.
