In April Kurt made another attempt to kick his habit, checking into Exodus Recovery Center, a rock-star rehab in Marina del Rey. He thought the former rocker hippies who ran the place were pretentious. He lasted four days. His habit got worse.
During a short tour in Europe, Kurt convulsed over breakfast in a Belfast hotel because he had forgotten to take his methadone the night before, and was rushed to the hospital. Drug rumors were somehow quashed: The story was Kurt had a bleeding ulcer because of all the junk food he’d been eating. Courtney was six months pregnant, moody and rude. Gold Mountain paid two people to watch over the couple, who were checking into hotels as “Mr. and Mrs. Simon Ritchie” (Sid Vicious’s real name). Angry about the monitoring, one night “the Ritchies” made an escape and checked into another hotel. There was pandemonium.
In July Courtney’s band, Hole, signed to Geffen for a million dollars. Kurt’s heroin habit was now up to four hundred dollars a day. “I ended up doing a hundred-dollar shot in one shot and not even feeling it hardly. I was just filling up the syringe as far as it could go without pulling the end off. At that point, it was like, why do it?” He checked into Cedars-Sinai for a twenty-five-day detox. During that time Courtney’s Vanity Fair article hit the stands.
Besides describing Courtney as having a “train wreck personality,” suggesting that it was she who had turned Kurt on to heroin, the piece by Lynn Hirschberg quoted Courtney as saying that she had knowingly done heroin during her pregnancy. Hirschberg also insisted that “industry insiders” were concerned about the health of the Cobains’ unborn baby. And Courtney’s wickedly delightful sense of humor was portrayed as just plain wicked. She became so depressed about the piece (“I knew my world was over. I was dead. That was it”) that she checked herself into a hospital so she wouldn’t resort to getting high. Kurt was too weak and sick to understand what had hit him. While he detoxed, the stomach pain returned with a vengeance, but despite a battery of tests, doctors still didn’t have a clue. “He’d been crying for weeks,” Courtney said. “It was nothing but crying. All we did was cry. It was horrible.” When Kurt finally rallied, he wanted to kill Lynn Hirschberg. “As soon as I get out of this fucking hospital, I’m going to kill this woman with my bare hands. I’m going to stab her to death. First I’m going to take her dog and slit its guts out in front of her. And then shit all over her and stab her to death.”
Frances Bean Cobain was born on the morning of August 18, after Courtney sashayed through the hospital—in labor—to get to Kurt, dragging her IV behind her, demanding that he attend his daughter’s birth. He somehow got to the delivery room, threw up, and passed out. During the birth experience, Courtney held Kurt’s hand and rubbed his tummy. Named after the Vaselines’ Frances McKee (“Bean” came from her kidney-bean shape in the sonogram), Frances weighed just over seven pounds and was perfectly healthy.
Due to the Vanity Fair article, Kurt and Courtney were forced by the Los Angeles County Department of Children’s Services to hand Frances over to Courtney’s sister Jamie when the baby was only two weeks old. It was a devastating, humiliating experience. For the next month Kurt and Courtney couldn’t be alone with their baby. The tabloids got in on the action, with headlines like ROCK STAR’S BABY BORN A JUNKIE. Kurt said he and Courtney were “totally suicidal.”
But Nirvana played on. They arrived in England with the rock press raging that the band was breaking up due to Kurt’s poor health. At the Reading Festival, as a “fuck you,” Kurt rolled out onstage in a wheelchair, wearing a white hospital gown—and played the best show of his life.
Kurt wanted to perform his new song “Rape Me” at the MTV Awards, and when the organizers insisted on “Teen Spirit,” Nirvana decided they wouldn’t play at all. But after considering the repercussions with MTV involving other Geffen/Gold Mountain acts, they grudgingly settled on “Lithium.” Kurt freaked everybody out by launching into the first few bars of “Rape Me,” “just to give them a little heart palpitation.” When he picked up the award for Best New Artist, Kurt smiled and said, “You know, it’s really hard to believe everything you read.” Backstage, Courtney mouthed off to Axl Rose and he pointed at Kurt, shrieking, “You shut your bitch up or I’m taking you down to the pavement!” Kurt pretended to stand up to Axl, then turned to Courtney and said, “Shut up, bitch!” She laughed her head off. Cutting into the tension, Axl’s model girlfriend asked Courtney if she was a model. Courtney responded, “No, are you a brain surgeon?”
The Cobains felt like they were under attack again when they learned about an unauthorized Nirvana biography being planned in England. In a total rage about his privacy being poked into one more time, Kurt left several threatening messages on the writers’ phone machine: “If anything comes out in this book which hurts my wife, I’ll fucking hurt you … . I love to be fucked, I love to be blackmailed, I’ll give you anything you want, I’m begging you, I’m on my knees and my mouth is wide open … . I don’t give a flying fuck if I have this recorded that I’m threatening you. I suppose I could throw out a few hundred thousand dollars to have you snuffed out, but maybe I’ll try the legal way first … .” The book was never published.
Beating out the bootleggers, in December 1992 Nirvana released Incesticide, an album of early material, B-sides, and outtakes. Kurt took the opportunity to rant in the liner notes, “Leave us the fuck alone!”
Kurt had his daughter back, but he and Courtney had to undergo regular urine tests and deal with the constant specter of social workers poking into their personal lives. It was all becoming too much. “No matter what we do, or how clean we live our lives,” Kurt told Michael Azzerad, “we’re not going to survive this because there are too many enemies and we threaten too many people. Everyone wants to see us die.”
For someone who wanted to hide, Kurt kept stirring up controversy. The February 1993 issue of the Advocate featured Kurt on the cover, and the interview stated that he thought he was gay back in high school: “I’m definitely gay in spirit, and I probably could be bisexual.” Later that month Nirvana headed for Minnesota to start work on their new album with producer Steve Albini, booking themselves as the Simon Ritchie Group. In a gutsy move, the band demanded to be left alone. No one from the record company or management would be allowed at the sessions. Albini wanted a live, natural sound, unlike the “controlled, compressed” Nevermind. In Utero was completed in two weeks. “They were very well prepared coming into the studio,” Albini said, “as prepared as any band I’ve worked with, and as easy to deal with as any band I’ve worked with.” Kurt’s lyrics really impressed him. “They’re so simple and to the point and so right. Something that would take me an hour to explain, Kurt would sum up in two words. That’s something he has that I’ve never seen in anyone else.” About Kurt’s lyrics, Courtney said, “He chews bubble gum in his soul.”
Kurt wanted to call the album I Hate Myself and I Want to Die, then Verse Chorus Verse, before settling on In Utero after reading the phrase in one of Courtney’s poems. The back cover art, composed by Kurt, is an arrangement of plastic body parts, fetus models, and various flowers. “I always thought orchids, and especially lilies, look like a vagina,” he said, “so it’s sex and woman and In Utero and vaginas and birth and death.”
“The grown-ups don’t like it,” Kurt declared about Geffen and Gold Mountain’s first response to In Utero. Kurt knew they wanted another Nevermind, but said he would “rather die.” Steve Albini told the Chicago Tribune that he didn’t think Geffen would accept In Utero, and soon the press was full of stories about Nirvana’s unacceptable record. The rumors were tossed around from Rolling Stone to Newsweek, picking up speed. “We will release whatever record the band delivers,” Geffen maintained. Another announcement stated, “Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain debunks rumors of Geffen interference with new album.” The truth was pretty simple. There were a few things the band wanted to change, and even though the higher-ups agreed with the changes, the press was making Nirvana look like wimps, with Gold Moun
tain and Geffen as their avaricious tormentors. In the end the album was remastered, two songs were remixed, and acoustic guitar and harmonies were added to “Heart-Shaped Box.”
After months of nightmarish legal battles, on March 23 the Department of Children’s Services left the Cobains alone with their daughter, deciding that none of the allegations against Kurt and Courtney in Family Court were legally valid. But Kurt was more depressed and reclusive than ever. His friends and family were very worried about him.
Kurt Cobain with wife, Courtney Love, and baby daughter, Frances Bean, caught in the spotlight. (KEVIN MAZUR/LONDON FEATURES INTERNATIONAL)
On May 2 Kurt shot heroin, arriving home trembling, flushed, and glassy-eyed. According to a police report, Courtney had to inject Kurt with buprenorphine, an illegal drug used for heroin ODs, then give him a Valium, three Benadryls, and four Tylenols with codeine to make him throw up. She told the police it had happened before. On June 4 the police were back after Courtney claimed she and Kurt had been arguing over guns in the house. He was booked for domestic assault and spent three hours in jail. On July 23, before a gig in New York, Kurt overdosed again and was brought around by Courtney. He played that night at the Roseland Ballroom. On September 21 In Utero was released to glorious reviews.
The fall of ’93 was spent on tour. Former Germs guitarist Pat Smear joined the band, and Kurt was able to focus on his vocals. All over the country, people raved about the intensity and passion of Nirvana’s live performances. About being onstage, Kurt said, “It’s anger, it’s death, and absolute total bliss, as happy as I’ve ever been when I was a carefree child running around throwing rocks at cops. It’s just everything. Every song feels different.” Offstage was another story. Though he seemed eager to begin a project with R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe, Kurt was silent, withdrawn, and closed, causing deep concern for those close to him. The record company wanted a bodyguard to trail him around, keep tabs on him, but Kurt refused. “Axl Rose has a bodyguard. I’m not Axl Rose.”
One of Kurt’s joys was bringing his favorite bands to a wider audience, and in October Nirvana performed a Vaselines song and two from the Meat Puppets on MTV Unplugged. When the band played London in February, Kurt insisted that the Raincoats open for Nirvana, along with his heroes, the Melvins, who played several of the European shows. But by the end of February Kurt was sick and shows had to be postponed. He was losing his voice and had visited several doctors who told him he shouldn’t be singing at all. From Munich, Kurt went to Rome, where he was going to meet Courtney and little Frances at the Excelsior Hotel for a much-needed holiday.
The March 4 announcement from Gold Mountain sounded reasonable enough: “Kurt Cobain slipped into a coma at six A.M. European Standard Time. The coma was induced by a combination of the flu and fatigue, on top of prescription painkillers and champagne. While Cobain has not awoken, he shows significant signs, say his doctors.” But Kurt had wanted to die that night. Earlier he had a prescription filled for Rohypnol (a Valium-like tranquilizer) and ordered champagne from room service. Then Kurt unwrapped the fifty tinfoil Rohypnol pill packets and swallowed them all with mouthfuls of champagne. At the crack of dawn Courtney found him unconscious. “I reached for him and he had blood coming out of his nose,” she told Select magazine. “I have seen him get really fucked up before, but I have never seen him almost eat it.” There was reportedly a suicide note left at the scene, but Gold Mountain insisted the note found was not a suicide note. When Kurt awakened from his coma twenty hours later, he scrawled, “Get these fucking tubes out of my nose.” A few days later the couple were back in Seattle. “He’s not going to get away from me that easily,” Courtney said. “I’ll follow him through hell.”
On March 18 the Seattle police got another hysterical call from Courtney, who told them her husband was holed up in the bathroom with a .38-caliber revolver, threatening to kill himself. According to the report, when the police arrived Kurt came out of the bathroom, saying he had no intention of committing suicide. Four guns and twenty-five rounds of ammunition were confiscated.
Along with a few of Kurt’s friends and family members, Courtney started talking to counselors, and on March 25, along with a counselor and ten friends—including Gold Mountain executives, guitarist Pat Smear, and Chris Novoselic—performed an intervention on Kurt. Courtney vowed to leave him if he didn’t check into rehab, and Pat and Chris threatened to break up the band. After the difficult, lengthy session, Kurt and Pat Smear went down to the basement to rehearse. When she wasn’t able to convince Kurt to check into rehab with her, Courtney flew to L.A. without him, checked into the Peninsula Hotel in Beverly Hills, and started an outpatient detox program. Back in Seattle, Kurt went looking for a gun.
Kurt convinced the best man at his wedding, Dylan Carlson, to go with him to buy a shotgun, reminding him that his own guns had been confiscated and he needed one “for protection.” Dylan thought it was strange since Kurt was about to leave for L.A., but accompanied him to Stan Baker’s Gun Shop on Lake City Way, where he bought a 61b Remington Model 11 20-gauge shotgun. Concerned, Dylan offered to keep the gun for him until he got back from L.A., but Kurt took the gun home. Then he left for L.A. and checked himself into the Exodus Recovery Center. This time he lasted only two days. On April 1 Kurt called Courtney at the Peninsula, telling her she made a really good record. When she asked Kurt what he meant, he replied, “Just remember, no matter what, I love you.” Courtney never spoke to her husband again. That evening, after telling the staff he was going out on the patio to smoke, Kurt jumped the six-foot brick fence and disappeared.
On April 2 Courtney hired a private investigator and canceled Kurt’s credit cards. On April 4 Kurt’s mom, Wendy, filed a missing persons report. Somebody claims to have seen him in the park near his house a couple of days later, but on April 5 it seems that Kurt climbed the stairs to the greenhouse above his garage and propped a stool against the French doors. Then he removed his hunter’s cap, got his drugs from an old cigar box, wrote a letter with a red pen, and opened his wallet to his driver’s license, tossing it on the floor as identification. Courtney believes that Kurt then pulled a chair to the window with a view of Puget Sound, took some heroin, pressed the shotgun barrel to his left temple, and pulled the trigger.
Two and a half days later Kurt’s body was found by Gary Smith, an electrician who had been hired to install a security system in the house. Unrecognizable, the body was identified by fingerprints several hours later. Heroin and Valium were found in Kurt’s bloodstream.
Meanwhile, at 9:30 P.M. on April 7, Courtney was rushed from her room at the Peninsula to Century City Hospital after 911 had been called regarding a “possible overdose victim.” She was arrested immediately after being discharged and booked for possession of a controlled substance, drug paraphernalia, and a hypodermic, as well as for “receiving stolen property.” All charges were later dropped. (The “controlled substance” turned out to be good-luck holy ashes given to her by her lawyer, Rosemary Carroll.) Courtney hadn’t spoken to Kurt for a week and must have been crazy with worry and grief. Released on ten thousand dollars’ bail, she went directly to the Exodus Recovery Center, spending one night. The following day her worst fears were confirmed.
Gary Smith had called radio station KXRX-FM with “the scoop of the century,” adding, “You’re going to owe me a lot of concert tickets for this one.” Kurt’s mom, Wendy, learned of Kurt’s death on the radio. “Now he’s gone and joined that stupid club,” she said, referring to Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Jim Morrison. “I told him not to join that stupid club.” Courtney flew to Seattle and stayed with Wendy. She wore Kurt’s clothes and carried around a lock of his hair.
While Courtney’s taped message played for thousands of sorrowful fans at the candlelight vigil across town, a private memorial was being held at the Unity Church. “A suicide is no different than having our finger in a vise,” Reverend Towles told the 150 mourners. “The pain becomes so great that you can’t bear it any
longer.” Chris Novoselic asked that Kurt be remembered for being “caring, generous, and sweet.” Courtney read from the Bible and from Kurt’s suicide note, including a passage she left out of the tape for the vigil: “I have a daughter who reminds me too much of myself.” Gary Gersh read a note from Michael Stipe, and Gold Mountain’s Danny Goldberg spoke last: “I believe he would have left this world several years ago if he hadn’t met Courtney.”
Courtney told the crowd in her taped message that she would read the part of Kurt’s suicide note addressed to his fans. The rest, Courtney said, was “none … of your fucking business.” But before she could begin to read the note, Courtney stopped herself, saying, “He is such an asshole. I want you all to say ‘asshole’ really loud.”
Then Courtney began to read from the suicide note, in which Kurt told of feeling “guilty beyond words.” Kurt said that for years he hadn’t experienced any thrill at “the manic roar of the crowd.” “Well, Kurt, so fucking what?” Courtney said, interrupting her reading. “Then don’t be a rock star, you asshole.” After Courtney continued to read Kurt’s confession that the “worst crime” would be to fake having 100 percent fun as a rock star, she countered, “No, Kurt, the worst crime … is for you to just continue to be a rock star when you fucking hate it.”
Courtney continued to recite Kurt’s self-torturing confession and farewell to his fans. Kurt labeled himself as “one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they’re alone.” He wistfully observed that he had it “good, very good,” but almost in the same sentence revealed that since the age of seven he had become “hateful towards all humans.” Kurt’s good-bye concluded with his thanking his fans “from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach,” and his signing off, “Peace, love, empathy …‘It was better to burn than to fade away …’ Kurt Cobain.”
Rock Bottom: Dark Moments In Music Babylon Page 11