Boxset, Update #7: Sound of Dentage is Mine

Well…we’re here. I spent the past day tightening up metadata, reworking album art, editing the “liner notes”, and comparing yet another batch of sources (most of which were amusingly bad and generated, but a few upgraded what I had)–but it’s up for download. Your choice of FLAC or MP3. (And look, it’s a link to cammy.somnol! No, I’m by no means over that…believe me, it’s getting some pages throughout May.)

The Sound of Dentage page on cammy.somnol

Just briefly, because I’ve been rambling about this stuff all throughout the build process, I’m taking two things mainly from building it. One, I finally have a properly lossless collection of all this Nirvana stuff I’ve spent years with–but only on YouTube through low- and medium-quality uploads and probably stuff a few generations down the line. This is really the best I’ve heard some of this material, and I’m happy to pass it onto whoever’s interested in three hours of Nirvana oddities.

But on a more serious note, it’s all been a very stark reminder of the fact that you need to focus on the music, and not the people–with this band and with every band. I read a ton of articles and archives while assembling the boxset, articles on everything from the tumultuous recording of their records to how the final tour went–and the one thing I saw everywhere I looked was a guy who wanted the fame, wanted it to look like an accident, and then hated it when he got it because it looked nothing like how he expected. He wanted to succeed, and understandably so! Dude was writing pop classics while being turned down for jobs cleaning dog shit, that’s no way for such a capable artist to live.

Yet, almost on accident, people were more taken by his pretty face than anything he actually said (not that I give a shit about his message half the time anyway, but he was saying something). The stories of him becoming a junkie hero and his music being sung by literal rapists in the act–I mean, not to Monday morning quarterback, but it’s no surprise it happened the way it did, right? We killed Kurt Cobain. Not you and me, per se, but all the rubberneckers, all the biography pornographers, and by all the people who need a reminder that Nirvana was a band.

All that to say–I’m still not taken by the status of Aberdeen’s folk hero. A flawed man goes down as anyone would in his position. He writes some damn fetching tunes though.

It’s a labor of love, but who knows. Maybe I’ll throw it on YouTube and people can find it that way. Mostly I’m prepared to never listen to Nirvana ever again. (Not really, but a break’s definitely in order.) Anyway, another Rediscovering coming up in a few days! Stories! Would like to get back to what I’m actually qualified to do. And stuff that’s a little less self-indulgent. Thanks for hanging on, lads.

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