Nirvana: Unplugged In New York

Thanks to the legal hijinks that dragged on long after Kurt Cobain's death, anything Nirvana-related was put on hold. After the legal resolution a couple of years ago, a 3-cd set of unreleased recordings saw the light of day (With The Lights Out), not to mention the obligatory "best of" (Nirvana). Now finally comes the somewhat legendary "MTV Unplugged" show. This set still draws some mixed reactions, even if most fans agree it's brilliant. Taped just months before Cobain's suicide, it's both startingly raw and disturbingly planned, with the band playing amongst candles and flowers (stargazer lilies, to be precise)--more than a few people noted it seemed like a funeral, and indeed that's the way Cobain intended it.

Heavier Than Heaven: A Biography of Kurt Cobain

The art of Nirvana's Kurt Cobain was all about his private life, but written in a code as obscure as T.S. Eliot's. Now Charles Cross has cracked the code in the definitive biography Heavier Than Heaven, an all-access pass to Cobain's heart and mind. It reveals many secrets, thanks to 400-plus interviews, and even quotes Cobain's diaries and suicide notes and reveals an unreleased Nirvana masterpiece. At last we know how he created, how lies helped him die, how his family and love life entwined his art--plus, what the heck "Smells Like Teen Spirit" really means. (It was graffiti by Bikini Kill's Kathleen Hanna after a double date with Dave Grohl, Cobain, and the "over-bored and self-assured" Tobi Vail, who wore Teen Spirit perfume; Hanna wrote it to taunt the emotionally clingy Cobain for wearing Vail's scent after sex--a violation of the no-strings-attached dating ethos of the Olympia, Washington, "outcast teen" underground. Cobain's stomach-churning passion for Vail erupted in six or so hit tunes like "Aneurysm" and "Drain You.")

Cross uncovers plenty of news, mostly grim and gripping. As a teen, Cobain said he had "suicide genes," and his clan was peculiarly defiant: one of his suicidal relatives stabbed his own belly in front of his family, then ripped apart the wound in the hospital. Cobain was contradictory: a sweet, popular teen athlete and sinister berserker, a kid who rescued injured pigeons and laughingly killed a cat, a talented yet astoundingly morbid visual artist. He grew up to be a millionaire who slept in cars (and stole one), a fiercely loyal man who ruthlessly screwed his oldest, best friends. In fact, his essence was contradictions barely contained.