Montage Of Heck: The Home Recordings
Universal Music, 2015
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kurt_Cobain
REVIEW BY: Pete Crigler
ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED: 11/30/2015
Do not buy this album! I don’t think it could be more clearly spoken than that. This ‘album’ has been released in conjunction with the DVD release of the moderately acclaimed documentary Montage Of Heck. As the title states, it’s a collection of home recordings and early demos from the mind of Kurt Cobain and well, his mind seemed to be a jumble of juvenilia and genius.
Most of the demos here are very early, scratchy tracks while some, like the obnoxious “Beans” are just the sounds of someone dicking around with a tape recorder. This record obnoxiously comes across as a complete rip-off and scam designed to take hard earned money away from diehard Nirvana fans. The album promises never before released tracks and previously unheard songs. Well, guess what?! All of the good demos and home recordings were already released eleven years ago on the With The Lights Out box set (released in 2004).
There are demos of tracks like “Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle” and “Clean Up Before She Comes,” but they’re so lackluster and amateurish that it begs wondering why the hell they ended up getting released in the first place. Even demos like “Sappy” really make you yearn for the real tracks. There are also bits of dialogue and other stuff, but it doesn’t really give you more insight into the man. Stuff like this makes one wonder why it’s necessary to drain the dregs of someone’s musical library. You don’t see bands like U2 or Red Hot Chili Peppers releasing every damn home recording and demo available in their vaults. So why do people feel that we need to hear every version of a Nirvana song?
This is honestly one of the stupidest and most pointless records of all time. But it’s not even the worst record of 2015 – no, that honor still goes to Blues Traveler. Like I said before, do not buy this album at any price unless you want to use it for target practice!
All in all, this is the type of album designed to make money, not to enhance anyone’s artistic legacy. The filmmakers, the record company, and damn near everyone involved in the making of this should be ashamed of themselves. Let’s end this debacle by saying that if I wanted to hear the sound of someone dicking around with a tape recorder, I’d go and listen to Happy Flowers instead.