K urt Cobain was unimpressed when he took the stage inside the Arizona Veterans Memorial Coliseum at the Arizona State Fairgrounds in Phoenix on Oct. 18, 1993. It was only the first show of Nirvana’s lengthy “In Utero” tour, but the singer- songwriter had already been given a reason to feel disgruntled. At least the new set looked cool. Nirvana had decided to use a few elabo- rate props on stage for the first time in the band’s existence for what would be the first large-scale arena tour they had ever embarked on. The set had been decorated with some ornamental flowers and pecu- liar-looking fake trees. There were also two mannequins on stage, both reproductions of the transparent, anatomical angel- winged female image from the cover of the “In Utero,” the band’s third album. The record had debuted at number one on the U.S. Billboard chart in September 1993 and was mostly met with critical acclaim. For all his band’s success, the 26-year- old Cobain was disheartened and felt the need to set some of his audience straight when he approached the microphone with one of his Fender guitars that Monday night in Phoenix. Thousands of Arizonans had just booed Mudhoney and chanted for Nirvana during the opening band’s set. Clearly, those people in the audience didn’t know Mudhoney were “the best band in Seattle,” as Cobain had described them to Geffen Records executive Gary Gersh. The wonderfully irreverent Mark Arm and his bandmates had been blowing people’s hair back and causing chaotic mosh pits with their raw, high-energy music back when Cobain had barely settled on a name for his own band in the late 1980s. Cobain hated the kind of rednecks he had grown up around in Aberdeen, Wash., and there were clearly a few of those macho types among the Arizona State Fair crowd. Perhaps some of the people packed inside the Veterans Memorial Coliseum should have just attended the Billy Ray Cyrus concert held in the same venue the previous night, rather than a punk-inspired alter- native-rock show. Nirvana, Mudhoney and their respective road crews had arrived at the coliseum to begin their load-in around 9 a.m. The 15,000-seat arena was sold out for the eagerly anticipated show that night, which was sponsored by alternative radio station KZRX/100.3, often referred to as “Z-Rock.” The building Nirvana and Mudhoney were loading their gear into had originally opened back on Nov. 23, 1965. The first rock concert held beneath its notoriously leaky roof had been performed by The Monkees on Jan. 27, 1967. The Doors had played the arena twice in 1968. The Rolling Stones had performed there on Nov. 11, 1969. Elvis Presley had appeared on stage inside the coliseum twice during the early 1970s. The building also hosted plenty of hockey games and had until the previous year been home court for the Phoenix Suns. The artistic Cobain presum- ably glanced at Phoenix artist Paul Coze’s series of murals inside the coliseum. He also noticed on the marquee that the country songstress he jokingly referred to as “Arriba McEntire” would be singing there in a couple of days. While the coliseum had hosted plenty of rock concerts throughout the previous decades, it was not the kind of building in which Nirvana and Mudhoney were accustomed to playing. With the exception of a handful of festivals and larger venues, both bands had spent years mostly playing in much smaller clubs or modest theaters. Cobain was still coming to grips with the kind of arena- rock expectations that had been thrust upon him following the breakthrough success of Nirvana’s monumental second album, “Nevermind,” in fall 1991. The reality of playing venues like the Veterans Memorial Coliseum often conflicted with his punk rock values. His band may have sold millions of records and even displaced Michael Jackson at the top of the U.S. Billboard charts almost two years earlier, but Nirvana didn’t consider themselves rock stars; rather, they were the disaffected but often humorous “grunge” rockers whose emergence from the underground music scene had shot holes in the dominance of the preening, prancing, grossly commercial hair bands of the 1980s. Cobain, bass player Krist Novoselic, drummer Dave Grohl and their new rhythm guitarist, Pat Smear, familiarized themselves with the acoustics inside the Veterans Memorial on stage inside the coliseum twice during Suns. The artistic Cobain presum- ably glanced at Phoenix artist Paul marquee that the country songstress McEntire” would be singing there in plenty of rock concerts throughout the previous decades, it was not the kind of building in which Nirvana and handful of festivals and larger venues, both bands had spent years mostly coming to grips with the kind of arena- rock expectations that had been thrust upon him following the breakthrough second album, “Nevermind,” in fall 1991. The reality of playing venues like the Veterans Memorial Coliseum often >> p 16 ...NIRVANA DIDN’T CONSIDER THEMSELVES ROCK STARS; RATHER, THEY WERE THE DISAFFECTED BUT OFTEN HUMOROUS “GRUNGE” ROCKERS... Remembering Nirvana’s concert at the Arizona State Fair, 30 years later. BY JAMES B. MILLS Remembering Nirvana’s concert at the Arizona State Fair, 30 years later. NIRVANA ROCKED THE COPPER STATE WHEN Dave Grohl, top, and Kurt Cobain rock the house during a Nirvana concert in Phoenix on Oct. 18, 1993. (Photos by Lissa Wales)
