12 Songs, 41 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

If Nevermind's polished sound was a glorious blaze in a candle factory, In Utero's was a grease fire on a blackened stove. Deliberately tweaking the machinery of the grunge industry, the trio recorded the follow-up to their multi-platinum triumph with indie godhead Steve Albini, who was all too happy to give them a sound almost as alienating as the one he'd brought to PJ Harvey's Rid of Me. Kurt Cobain had a case of squawling dissatisfaction to unload, and from "Scentless Apprentice" to "Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle", he soaked the floors with it. A more complex set of songs than even the bunch that made Cobain a superstar, these also covered the bases from regret ("All Apologies") to incoherence ("Tourette's") and even—what's this?—a grudging pleasure ("Dumb"). In Utero is final proof that a record can't expel all the poison from an artist's system. If it somehow could have, Cobain would certainly be with us today.

EDITORS’ NOTES

If Nevermind's polished sound was a glorious blaze in a candle factory, In Utero's was a grease fire on a blackened stove. Deliberately tweaking the machinery of the grunge industry, the trio recorded the follow-up to their multi-platinum triumph with indie godhead Steve Albini, who was all too happy to give them a sound almost as alienating as the one he'd brought to PJ Harvey's Rid of Me. Kurt Cobain had a case of squawling dissatisfaction to unload, and from "Scentless Apprentice" to "Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle", he soaked the floors with it. A more complex set of songs than even the bunch that made Cobain a superstar, these also covered the bases from regret ("All Apologies") to incoherence ("Tourette's") and even—what's this?—a grudging pleasure ("Dumb"). In Utero is final proof that a record can't expel all the poison from an artist's system. If it somehow could have, Cobain would certainly be with us today.

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