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dark
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
dark
emotional
informative
inspiring
medium-paced
emotional
funny
reflective
fast-paced
0/5. I just don't understand this Cobain guy. He slams his Mead "The Spiral" notebook on a scanner bed, collects a check, and calls it a day. Not even inviting a pompous rock journalist to write an introduction. How am I supposed to know what he means by "THE OLD SCHOOL IS GOING DOWN FAST, FUCK FACE" without Kurt Loder voice overs to interpret for me? I sorta sense that he is angry at baby boomers. But I don't know why. What's wrong with recycling "Louie Louie" and "GeeEllOhArEyeAa" over and over again in their jammin' boomer songs? Hardly a reason to get your flannel in a twist, dude! Manly men also irritate Cobain, which means he must be some kind of feminist fairy. I know that Paglia lady saw his tiny emaciated body on stage and "worried for the future of rock music." I worry too. Real rock needs more costume changes, thrusting Robert Plant chests, and blue-jeaned Bruce Springsteen asses. The only way you're gonna enjoy this book is if you like people who had fresh ideas for their time, who troll corporate music tragically hard, who ponder the nature and purpose of art, who aren't afraid to hide their emotions, and who use every ounce of their 10th grade education to royally fuck up some bullshit.
emotional
inspiring
reflective
fast-paced
It turns out I'm not really all that into Kurt Cobain's thought process.
This is a reproduction of entries from his journal, in some kind of seemingly chronological order. There's no real commentary. I do enjoy the visualness of the book, how it also reproduces the covers of journals so that you can get a sense of what he would actually have been writing into.
The last set of musician diaries I read were those Robert Fripp included in his various box sets ... and I found those incredibly enticing because for whatever reason I really wanted to get into his anxieties as an artist and the praxis of what makes King Crimson tick, and how each influences the other.
For whatever reason I did not feel this about the Cobain diaries. They were someone expelling thoughts in any which way onto a page, or the inclusion of a poem or comic which says something of the colour of Kurt Cobain's mind but not necessarily a clear cohesive narrative.
And that's fine, I have a feeling for people who are super into Cobain as an musician or a person or for people who enjoy piecing together a person's mind from the ripped fragments put down on paper, this will be a fun puzzle or window.
For me, perhaps as someone who enjoyed Nirvana but wasn't _transformed_ by it, or at someone with a very linear mental narrative, I found it mostly incohesive and I didn't find the kind of weight I wanted out of what Cobain thought of putting down. By the end there's a lot of stuff dealing with Frances Bean and Courtney. It's more focused but again ... I did not find it more profound than my own relationship woes.
Which is nice, Kurt is human just like most of us. But I guess I'm saying this publication is probably meant for someone but it's not meant for me. If you love artist minds or feelings-driven journals, you'll possibly enjoy this. But I don't think this is particular enlightening in and of itself.
This is a reproduction of entries from his journal, in some kind of seemingly chronological order. There's no real commentary. I do enjoy the visualness of the book, how it also reproduces the covers of journals so that you can get a sense of what he would actually have been writing into.
The last set of musician diaries I read were those Robert Fripp included in his various box sets ... and I found those incredibly enticing because for whatever reason I really wanted to get into his anxieties as an artist and the praxis of what makes King Crimson tick, and how each influences the other.
For whatever reason I did not feel this about the Cobain diaries. They were someone expelling thoughts in any which way onto a page, or the inclusion of a poem or comic which says something of the colour of Kurt Cobain's mind but not necessarily a clear cohesive narrative.
And that's fine, I have a feeling for people who are super into Cobain as an musician or a person or for people who enjoy piecing together a person's mind from the ripped fragments put down on paper, this will be a fun puzzle or window.
For me, perhaps as someone who enjoyed Nirvana but wasn't _transformed_ by it, or at someone with a very linear mental narrative, I found it mostly incohesive and I didn't find the kind of weight I wanted out of what Cobain thought of putting down. By the end there's a lot of stuff dealing with Frances Bean and Courtney. It's more focused but again ... I did not find it more profound than my own relationship woes.
Which is nice, Kurt is human just like most of us. But I guess I'm saying this publication is probably meant for someone but it's not meant for me. If you love artist minds or feelings-driven journals, you'll possibly enjoy this. But I don't think this is particular enlightening in and of itself.
emotional
fast-paced
It's interesting to read, but not very coherent, and I always felt a little guilty about having read it becuase I knew how strongly he felt about people NOT reading it. I suppose we could blame it all on Courtney Love if we wanted to.
This isn't really a book. It's a scrapbook by a tortured creative depressive of their life before and after it got more complicated. An undeniable invasion of privacy. You feel uncomfortable very often when reading this deceased man's journal especially when you come across moments of vulnerability you know you would want broadcasted in your passing. An exploitative addition to his legacy. I decided to reread this book because the first time I read it (2018) I had been giddy, grateful almost. Kurt Cobain's legacy is maddening to look at,the music pulls you in but the man makes you stay. You stay and pick him apart until you're halted by a tragically predictable full stop in the form of a gun. Once at his suicide the awe of his talent and magnetism of his devil may cry attitude brings you to a delayed mourning and a bereaved curiosity (that lingers on morbid. ) He no longer feels like a person but becomes a subject one I aimed to know everything about: from the haunting autopsy photos, his cash in documentaries etc. So when I learned his once private journal (diary) had been published I wasn't appalled by how invasive and exploitive it was. I was just excited to get to peer behind another curtain . But now,older and removed from the throes of that obsession I feel uneasy. From how the first page is a hand written demand to not read their diary when their gone to psycho-sexual nightmares you can feel like a voyeur, a peeping tom trying to get off through violating a safe space. That's how it feels to read this.
With that said I did enjoy this book still a second time around. His illustrations both darkly funny and troubling are proof of a mad genius. And the look into how he came up with songs, merch and music video ideas is a once thought impossible treat. Getting to also witness the history of nirvana play out through a myriad of entries, letters and doodles is unparalleled insight.
Cobain's journal irrespective of it's availability's ethics is an irreverent milestone not just in music but in history. A coveted humanizing of an iconic figure who is often reduced to his politics