Yahoo! Music Album Review

Released on 28/10/2002
Label: Geffen

God, listening to this album is a depressing experience. It's like going to sort out the contents of a dead relation's house, sifting through their treasured possessions and throwaway nick-nacks, thinking "do I want this or should I give it to the charity shop?" when you ought to be remembering their life and spirit. It has stasis hanging over it like a dark cloud, the tracks playing out in dry chronological order, heading for the unhappiest of happy endings. You feel empty, deadened somehow, where once you felt the opposite.

Anyone who lived through Nirvana will be plagued by memories when they sit down with this album. Look, here's me touring Ireland with friends, so obsessed with 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' we badger DJs at every club to play it. Again and again. Here's James saying "come to Glasgow, we'll get tickets for Nirvana the night before" and me saying "no, I need to get back home, I'll see them in London". Here's me a week later at the Astoria, Bonfire night, 1991, not in the mood or the company to really take in what's going on. If only we knew this was history we were witnessing - we'd have paid a bit more attention.

It goes on and gone - the picture is much broader than those few snapshots. And the soundtrack lies where it's always been. On the albums. Here, you get Significant Excerpts, chosen by people with enough sense to dig out 'Sliver' and 'Been A Son' but not enough to include 'Territorial Pissings'. You get a subdued, poignant end to the story - a three handed neon signpost of 'All Apologies', 'The Man Who Sold The World' and 'Where Did You Sleep Last Night', the subtext blinking on and off in Vegas pink, "This Way To Disaster" - when really there should be sudden cacophony and nothing. Rather than applause and a tired "thank you".

And it's all bollocks. It's. All. Bollocks. This record exists to line pockets rather than celebrate a legacy. It's like telling a life story in 2000 words when you need 100,000. And listening to these tracks, out of context and put in their place, just leaves a rotten taste in your mouth, like bile and poison. No matter how much you try to block out the reality of the situation, how much the sheer, heartstopping brilliance of 'About A Girl' or 'Lithium' or 'Come As You Are' outshines the sorry truth of why you're here, in the end that sense of dread and something being Plain Wrong can't help but creep back in.

Worst of all, though, is the horrible realisation that 'You Know You're Right' (Roll up! Roll up! See Lazarus pull on his tap shoes one last time!) isn't that far from the drab self-pity grunge of Staind and Nickleback. All they lack is the tinge of claustrophobia, the rabid obsession that suddenly turns to rage and the sheer depth of human character and soul that allows you to understand what it feels like when emotions turn rotten.

F*ck, how did everyone manage to miss the point so badly?

    by Ian Watson