Kurt-tailed

10:39am Tuesday 18th November 2008

True Stories: Kurt Cobain – About a Son (More 4, 10pm)

FRANK Zappa famously said that writing about music is akin to dancing about architecture.

This documentary about Kurt Cobain serves to prove his point.

Ninety minutes of film without the one thing that made the doomed rocker so compelling: his music.

The film sets recordings from a 1992 interview with the Nirvana frontman – “the spokesman of a generation” – to a visual collage of places, people and things that shaped his short life and his unlikely trajectory from small-town geek to grunge rock messiah. There is no footage of any of Nirvana’s legendary live shows, not even clips of the band’s music. It’s like watching still photographs of big boxing matches on terrestrial TV news. Mildly informative, but you’re really missing the whole point.

What strikes you most about Cobain’s observations during this lengthy documentary- cum-art-exhibit is that, as the author of some of rock music’s most abstract and playful lyrics, he could be pretty banal and uninteresting. For a man with substantial gifts as a songwriter, he comes across as a selfobsessed teenager during much of these, previously unheard, interviews.

And he doesn’t half moan.

About his school classmates: “I had this personal vendetta against them because they were so macho and stupid. I had this hatred for a lot of people.”

About journalists: “I want to beat them to their deaths. I’m a firm believer in revenge. I always feel violated.

Celebrities should be treated as human beings, and their privacy should be respected.”

About his band mates: “I have quit the band ten times this year. I would love to play with other people and do something new.”

About his father: “I don’t want to talk to him because I don’t have anything to share with him. I’m sure that would really upset him, but that’s just the way it is.”

About his former workmates: “I just can’t get along with average people.

They get on my nerves so bad that I just can’t ignore them. I have to confront them and tell them I hate their guts.”

You find yourself wishing the interviewer would give him a good shaking.

Maybe his untimely demise at 27 at the end of his own shotgun could have been avoided if he’d got a little perspective on things. There are worse things to be than a multi-millionaire rock star. A ditch digger, for example. Or a public relations officer for Newcastle United.

Only a Kurt obsessive would find much of interest in this grim biopic.

After watching it, I spent a good half hour on YouTube watching Nirvana live shows. If you want to be reminded of what was so good about Cobain, I’d advise you to do the same.