Showing reviews 1–6 of 6

Nirvana’s Unplugged In New York was never intended to be the band’s epitaph, but when Kurt joined what his mum called “that stupid club”, that’s exactly what it became: a…

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As the old bastard is prone to reminding us, if Grandad hadn’t gone off to do battle with the Hun then we’d all be speaking German now. More worryingly, if…

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LET’S OPEN up Kurt Cobain and pick at his guts. Let’s check how many of his vital organs are pickled and poisoned beyond repair. Let’s trepan his cranium, shake out…

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Once music has become “historic”, the temptation is to suspend it in amber, press it between Perspex, treat it with the kind of reverence usually reserved for papal edicts. While…

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