Nirvana: Unplugged In New York

IT SEEMS A PARTICULARILY VICIOUS IRONY:THAT A BAND THAT electricity seemed to flow through, a band who at their best could fling the weight of rock's past over their shoulder in a tiny rucksack and sprint effortlessly up a mountain, should leave an Unplugged album as their parting shot. Not just because their guiding light is himself now, in the most final and horrible way possible, unplugged; but because the whole Unplugged ideal — music as a living history lesson, hey, it's acoustic and therefore real — seems antithetical to everything Nirvana were about.