Induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is typically a cause for celebration. (OK, unless you're Johnny Rotten.) But Axl Rose, the frontman of 2012 inductees Guns N' Roses, will not be celebrating given the lengthy open letter he fired off on April 11 via the Los Angeles Times. Not only will Rose not attend the induction ceremony on Saturday, he has "respectfully declined" his induction. "I strongly request that I not be inducted in absentia and please know that no one is authorized nor may anyone be permitted to accept any induction for me or speak on my behalf," advised Rose. While fans were hoping for a reunion of classic GNR members — Rose, bassist Duff McKagan, guitarists Slash and Izzy Stradlin, and drummer Steven Adler — there seems to be too much water under the proverbial bridge. "[Rose] hates my guts," Slash told Rolling Stone earlier this month. Alas, the ceremony will move forward and it seems Rose will be inducted, like it or not. "We are sorry Axl will not be able to accept his induction in person," read a statement from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on Thursday. McKagan, Slash and Adler will be trekking to Cleveland to attend the ceremony. As for Rose, perhaps he has a date with Lana Del Rey on Saturday? 

Actress Betty White, who, at 90, became one of the oldest GRAMMY winners in February for her audio book recording If You Ask Me (And Of Course You Won't), has launched her very own Twitter account with the post: "Hello Twitter! And they said it would never happen. Oh wait, that was me." The move seems to be aimed at promoting her new reality series "Betty White's Off Their Rockers." White's account had already grown to more than 198,000 followers at post time, but no word yet on whether White is the oldest Tweeter. Her next GRAMMY-winning project may be called If You Tweet Me (And Of Course Now You Can).

Is it love or hate? Often in the world of Courtney Love it's both, although sometimes it's the former just on the basis of her name. That seems to be the case with her latest angry tweet in which she accuses Foo Fighters frontman and former Nirvana drummer Dave Grohl of sleeping with Love's daughter, by way of late Nirvana leader Kurt Cobain, Frances Bean Cobain. Love and Grohl have been feuding since Cobain's 1994 death over money and other Nirvana-legacy issues, and given Love's tendency toward shock-value postings and statements, it's hard to know where the truth lies. Grohl's publicist told Gawker that Love was "on another hateful Twitter rant. These new accusations are upsetting, offensive and absolutely untrue." Love told the New York Daily News, "Dave's a piece of s***, but he's a really good drummer." For his part, it might be best if Grohl practices some silence, patience and grace. As for Frances Bean, she’s saying “never mind” to the accusations. "Twitter should ban my mother," she told E! News.

You loved actor James Franco as a woman on the Oscars. Well, maybe you didn't, but you may love his lip-synched version of Rihanna's "You Da One," which he posted earlier this week with the self-critical message "worst lip syncher ever," to which TexasIntern replied "'BEST LIPS' ever!!!" While many turn to self-posted lip-synched videos to get discovered, Franco seems to just be in it for a good time, or maybe it's practice for his role as a drug-dealing rapper named Alien in the upcoming film Spring Breakers.

Could GRAMMY-winning Bon Iver frontman Justin Vernon be changing his name to J. Vizzle soon? According to a report, the indie singer/songwriter is putting his beat-making skills to the test and joining with rapper Astronautilis, aka Andy Bothwell, to form a hip-hop-inspired band. The pair has already completed a full album, which features Astronautilis freestyling over eight hours of Vernon-made music as well as Bon Iver drummer S. Carey. "A lot of my fans are like, 'Oh this is going to be amazing — Astronautalis rapping and Justin singing choruses,'" the rapper told NME. "It's not going to be that." So what will it be? We may hopefully find out soon as the pair hope to release the new music "sooner rather than later."

Fun.'s "We Are Young" featuring Janelle Monáe is tops on the Billboard Hot 100 and iTunes singles charts.

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In the pantheon of rock guitar gods, Slash ranks high on the list of legends. Many fans have passionately discussed his work — but if you ask him how he views his evolution over the last four decades, he doesn't offer a detailed analysis.

"As a person, I live very much in the moment, not too far in the past and not very far in the future either," Slash asserts. "So it's hard for me to really look at everything I'm doing in the bigger scheme of things."

While his latest endeavor — his new studio album, Orgy Of The Damned — may seem different to many who know him as the shredding guitarist in Guns N' Roses, Slash's Snakepit, Velvet Revolver, and his four albums with Myles Kennedy and the Conspirators, it's a prime example of his living-in-the-moment ethos. And, perhaps most importantly to Slash, it goes back to what has always been at the heart of his playing: the blues.

Orgy Of The Damned strips back much of the heavier side of his playing for a 12-track homage to the songs and artists that have long inspired him. And he recruited several of his rock cohorts — the likes of AC/DC's Brian Johnson, Aerosmith's Steven Tyler, Gary Clark Jr., Iggy Pop, Beth Hart, and Dorothy, among others — to jam on vintage blues tunes with him, from "Hoochie Coochie Man" to "Born Under A Bad Sign."

But don't be skeptical of his current venture — there's plenty of fire in these interpretations; they just have a different energy than his harder rocking material. The album also includes one new Slash original, the majestic instrumental "Metal Chestnut," a nice showcase for his tastefully melodic and expressive playing.

The initial seed for the project was planted with the guitarist's late '90s group Slash's Blues Ball, which jammed on genre classics. Those live, spontaneous collaborations appealed to him, so when he had a small open window to get something done recently, he jumped at the chance to finally make a full-on blues album.

Released May 17, Orgy Of The Damned serves as an authentic bridge from his musical roots to his many hard rock endeavors. It also sees a full-circle moment: two Blues Ball bandmates, bassist Johnny Griparic and keyboardist Teddy Andreadis, helped lay down the basic tracks. Further seizing on his blues exploration, Slash will be headlining his own touring blues festival called S.E.R.P.E.N.T. in July and August, with support acts including the Warren Haynes Band, Keb' Mo', ZZ Ward, and Eric Gales.

Part of what has kept Slash's career so intriguing is the diversity he embraces. While many heavy rockers stay in their lane, Slash has always traveled down other roads. And though most of his Orgy Of The Damned guests are more in his world, he's collaborated with the likes of Michael Jackson, Carole King and Ray Charles — further proof that he's one of rock's genre-bending greats.

Below, Slash discusses some of the most memorable collabs from Orgy Of The Damned, as well as from his wide-spanning career.

I was just listening to "Living For The City," which is my favorite track on the album.

Wow, that's awesome. That was the track that I knew was going to be the most left of center for the average person, but that was my favorite song when [Stevie Wonder's 1973 album] Innervisions came out when I was, like, 9 years old. I loved that song. This record's origins go back to a blues band that I put together back in the '90s.

Slash's Blues Ball.

Right. We used to play "Superstition," that Stevie Wonder song. I did not want to record that [for Orgy Of The Damned], but I still wanted to do a Stevie Wonder song. So it gave me the opportunity to do "Living For The City," which is probably the most complicated of all the songs to learn. I thought we did a pretty good job, and Tash [Neal] sang it great. I'm glad you dig it because you're probably the first person that's actually singled that song out.

With the Blues Ball, you performed Hoyt Axton's "The Pusher" and Robert Johnson's "Crossroads," and they surface here. Isn't it amazing it took this long to record a collection like this?

[Blues Ball] was a fun thrown-together thing that we did when I [was in, I] guess you call it, a transitional period. I'd left Guns N' Roses [in 1996], and it was right before I put together a second incarnation of Snakepit.

I'd been doing a lot of jamming with a lot of blues guys. I'd known Teddy [Andreadis] for a while and been jamming with him at The Baked Potato for years prior to this. So during this period, I got together with Ted and Johnny [Griparic], and we started with this Blues Ball thing. We started touring around the country with it, and then even made it to Europe. It was just fun.

Then Snakepit happened, and then Velvet Revolver. These were more or less serious bands that I was involved in. Blues Ball was really just for the fun of it, so it didn't really take precedence. But all these years later, I was on tour with Guns N' Roses, and we had a three-week break or whatever it was. I thought, I want to make that f—ing record now.

It had been stewing in the back of my mind subconsciously. So I called Teddy and Johnny, and I said, Hey, let's go in the studio and just put together a set and go and record it. We got an old set list from 1998, picked some songs from an app, picked some other songs that I've always wanted to do that I haven't gotten a chance to do.

Then I had the idea of getting Tash Neal involved, because this guy is just an amazing singer/guitar player that I had worked with in a blues thing a couple years prior to that. So we had the nucleus of this band.

Then I thought, Let's bring in a bunch of guest singers to do this. I don't want to try to do a traditional blues record, because I think that's going to just sound corny. So I definitely wanted this to be more eclectic than that, and more of, like, Slash's take on these certain songs, as opposed to it being, like, "blues." It was very off-the-cuff and very loose.

It's refreshing to hear Brian Johnson singing in his lower register on "Killing Floor" like he did in the '70s with Geordie, before he got into AC/DC. Were you expecting him to sound like that?

You know, I didn't know what he was gonna sing it like. He was so enthusiastic about doing a Howlin' Wolf cover.

I think he was one of the first calls that I made, and it was really encouraging the way that he reacted to the idea of the song. So I went to a studio in Florida. We'd already recorded all the music, and he just fell into it in that register.

I think he was more or less trying to keep it in the same feel and in the same sort of tone as the original, which was great. I always say this — because it happened for like two seconds, he sang a bit in the upper register — but it definitely sounded like AC/DC doing a cover of Howlin' Wolf. We're not AC/DC, but he felt more comfortable doing it in the register that Howlin' Wolf did. I just thought it sounded really great.

You chose to have Demi Lovato sing "Papa Was A Rolling Stone." Why did you pick her?

We used to do "Papa Was A Rolling Stone" back in Snakepit, actually, and Johnny played bass. We had this guy named Rod Jackson, who was the singer, and he was incredible. He did a great f—ing interpretation of the Temptations singing it.

When it came to doing it for this record, I wanted to have something different, and the idea of having a young girl's voice telling the story of talking to her mom to find out about her infamous late father, just made sense to me. And Demi was the first person that I thought of. She's got such a great, soulful voice, but it's also got a certain kind of youth to it.

When I told her about it, she reacted like Brian did: "Wow, I would love to do that." There's some deeper meaning about the song to her and her personal life or her experience. We went to the studio, and she just belted it out. It was a lot of fun to do it with her, with that kind of zeal.

You collaborate with Chris Stapleton on Fleetwood Mac's "Oh Well" by Peter Green. I'm assuming the original version of that song inspired "Double Talkin' Jive" by GN'R?

It did not, but now that you mention it, because of the classical interlude thing at the end... Is that what you're talking about? I never thought about it.

I mean the overall vibe of the song.

"Oh Well" was a song that I didn't hear until I was about 12 years old. It was on KMET, a local radio station in LA. I didn't even know there was a Fleetwood Mac before Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham. I always loved that song, and I think it probably had a big influence on me without me even really realizing it. So no, it didn't have a direct influence on "Double Talkin' Jive," but I get it now that you bring it up.

Was there something new that you learned in making this album? Were your collaborators surprised by their own performances?

I think Gary Clark is just this really f—ing wonderful guitar player. When I got "Crossroads," the idea originally was "Crossroads Blues," which is the original Robert Johnson version. And I called Gary and said, "Would you want to play with me on this thing?"

He and I only just met, so I didn't know what his response was going to be. But apparently, he was a big Guns N' Roses fan — I get the idea, anyway. We changed it to the Cream version just because I needed to have something that was a little bit more upbeat. So when we got together and played, we solo-ed it off each other.

When I listen back to it, his playing is just so f—ing smooth, natural, and tasty. There was a lot of that going on throughout the making of the whole record — acclimating to the song and to the feel of it, just in the moment.

I think that's all an accumulation of stuff that I've learned over the years. The record probably would be way different if I did it 20 years ago, so I don't know what that evolution is. But it does exist. The growth thing — God help us if you don't have it.

You've collaborated with a lot of people over the years — Michael Jackson, Carole King, Lemmy, B.B. King, Fergie. Were there any particular moments that were daunting or really challenging? And was there any collaboration that produced something you didn't expect?

All those are a great example of the growth thing, because that's how you really grow as a musician. Learning how to adapt to playing with other people, and playing with people who are better than you — that really helps you blossom as a player.

Playing with Carole King [in 1993] was a really educational experience because she taught me a lot about something that I thought that I did naturally, but she helped me to fine tune it, which was soloing within the context of the song. [It was] really just a couple of words that she said to me during this take that stuck with me. I can't remember exactly what they were, but it was something having to do with making room for the vocal. It was really in passing, but it was important knowledge.

The session that really was the hardest one that I ever did was [when] I was working with Ray Charles before he passed away. I played on his "God Bless America [Again]" record [on 2002's Ray Charles Sings for America], just doing my thing. It was no big deal. But he asked me to play some standards for the biopic on him [2004's Ray], and he thought that I could just sit in with his band playing all these Ray Charles standards.

That was something that they gave me the chord charts for, and it was over my head. It was all these chord changes. I wasn't familiar with the music, and most of it was either a jazz or bebop kind of a thing, and it wasn't my natural feel.

I remember taking the chord charts home, those kinds you get in a f—ing songbook. They're all kinds of versions of chords that wouldn't be the version that you would play.

That was one of those really tough sessions that I really learned when I got in over my head with something. But a lot of the other ones I fall into more naturally because I have a feel for it.

That's how those marriages happen in the first place — you have this common interest of a song, so you just feel comfortable doing it because it's in your wheelhouse, even though it's a different kind of music than what everybody's familiar with you doing. You find that you can play and be yourself in a lot of different styles. Some are a little bit challenging, but it's fun.

Are there any people you'd like to collaborate with? Or any styles of music you'd like to explore?

When you say styles, I don't really have a wish list for that. Things just happen. I was just working with this composer, Bear McCreary. We did a song on this epic record that's basically a soundtrack for this whole graphic novel thing, and the compositions are very intense. He's very particular about feel, and about the way each one of these parts has to be played, and so on. That was a little bit challenging. We're going to go do it live at some point coming up.

There's people that I would love to play with, but it's really not like that. It's just whatever opportunities present themselves. It's not like there's a lot of forethought as to who you get to play with, or seeking people out. Except for when you're doing a record where you have people come in and sing on your record, and you have to call them up and beg and plead — "Will you come and do this?"

But I always say Stevie Wonder. I think everybody would like to play with Stevie Wonder at some point.

Incubus On Revisiting Morning View & Finding Rejuvenation By Looking To The Past

It’s a special feeling, knowing you’re still getting better, 20 years into doing whatever it is you’re good at. “I identify my career as a bit of a slow burn,” says Katie Crutchfield, chatting from her home in Kansas City, Missouri. 

Tigers Blood, Waxahatchee’s sixth LP, arrives March 22 on Anti- Records. It sounds earthy and time-tested, hugging the border of alt-country and indie-folk. Pedal steel and banjos are just as welcome as electric guitar. Lucinda Williams, Townes van Zandt, and Gillian Welch are its musical north stars. Lyrics evoke late-night banter with old, trusted friends, the small handful of people in this world you could say anything to. 

Crutchfield has been writing songs for 20 years and, even as a teen, was perhaps the most respected voice in her Alabama punk scene. By the early 2010s, the same could be said of her place in DIY-minded rock, nationwide. Released March 27, 2020, Waxahatchee’s Saint Cloud, will be remembered as her breakthrough, though it certainly did not feel that way initially. For Crutchfield, the album still brings to mind bushels of COVID masks and days upon days spent indoors.

"There were phases of grief," Crutchfield says. "I was grieving the [canceled] tour, the normal experience of putting out a record. My therapist suggested I have a funeral for it." She says all this with a chuckle — one that comes easier after the success Saint Cloud eventually earned: a No. 1 on Billboard’s Heatseekers albums chart, significant radio play for the first time in her career, a spot at Newport Folk Festival once pandemic restrictions eased. “In hindsight, I know that record provided solace for a lot of people.”

Like Saint Cloud, Tigers Blood was produced by Brad Cook, an alt-rock standby whose production and co-writing work with Bon Iver earned him nominations for Album Of The Year and Record Of The Year at the 2020 GRAMMYs. "[Brad and I] developed this language and life philosophy as collaborators that I am not finished with," Crutchfield says.

Tigers Blood separates itself with one new, notable collaborator: singer/songwriter MJ Lenderman. Through his storytelling solo albums and cathartic guitarwork in the North Carolina band Wednesday, Lenderman, 25, is already a Gen Z indie rock icon. His contributions to Tigers Blood are subtle, but affecting: hazy backing vocals on the title track and "Right Back to It," artistry on his six-string that left Crutchfield in awe: "There are so many moments on [Tigers Blood] where I’m like, That’s the hookiest guitar part or solo. I never would have put it there without him."

Speaking with GRAMMY.com, Crutchfield looked back on how she arrived at Tigers Blood and the many stops along the way: showcasing her high school band for the guy who signed Nirvana, learning to re-embrace her Southern-ness, staying the course when you know, deep down, it’s the right thing to do. 

For artists today, I feel there’s this pressure to be constantly reinventing yourself. Is this something you’ve noticed?

Contemporarily – maybe this is a thing in pop – there’s a real pressure to reinvent yourself on every record as you move through your career. I’ve certainly done that. And I’ve certainly felt that. Brad [Cook] and I had a conversation about this very thing: What is the next thing going to be? Should we pivot to a new style?

It really brought us to my heroes. None of them ever reinvented themselves. A lot of them worked with the same people. Tom Petty, for example, played with a lot of the same musicians for his entire career. 

The confident choice is to retain some self-awareness about why people liked the last record, and to hang onto that. Then, to depend solely on the songs. Do whatever we can to elevate the songs. 

How did Tigers Blood come together, compared to the last LP?

It came together quickly and a lot of it was on tour. I had a lot of writer’s block working on Saint Cloud. The narrative of that record was that I had just gotten sober. I was experiencing a lot of anxiety. A friend told me, “When you get sober, you’re not gonna recognize yourself.” That was really true. I was like a raw nerve. I kind of had to take a long time off from touring, to catch my breath and figure out what my life was going to look like. Throughout that 18-month period of time off, I slowly wrote [Saint Cloud]. 

I started writing the melodies for Tigers Blood right after we made Saint Cloud, and continued to for several years, as I worked on other projects like the [2022] Plains record [in collaboration with singer-songwriter Jess Williamson]. In the peak pandemic months I was stowing away melodies, like, I’ll come back to this. I finished all the Tigers Blood songs in about a six-month period, a lot of which was on the road. When I say I finished a song, it means I wrote all the lyrics.  

*Releasing an album like Saint Cloud, I imagine you might be worried it would just be labeled as “the sober record.” Looking back at how well it was received, it feels like much more than that.*

I hope this doesn’t land wrong on music writers, but in a way it’s sort of easier for me when there’s a narrative. I think it’s sort of easier for everyone. Tigers Blood doesn’t have a clean-cut, neat little narrative. There’s a lot of things going on. 

I was writing about a lot of different things on Saint Cloud, too, but [sobriety] was the headline, and it made life easier to have a headline. I always knew there was more going on than just sobriety. I don’t write lyrics in a way that’s very on-the-nose. Someone could maybe listen to that album and have no idea it’s about sobriety. There’s a couple love songs on that record: “The Eye” and “Can’t Do Much.” And “Lilacs” is about being in a bad mood. It’s not really about being sober. 

If you don’t mind me asking, what made you want to get sober?

Everybody’s story is different. Mine isn’t particularly salacious. Over a decade, I had noticed that, for me, drinking had a weight to it that it didn’t have for everyone I knew…

I got sober when I was 29. I was getting a little bit older and my physical health was starting to catch up to me, and certainly my mental health [as well]. Some alarm bells were going off: I actually think the biggest issue in my life is drinking and if I cut that out, I’m curious if everything will balance out. And it really did. 

In June, it’ll be six years since I quit. I definitely feel like a way different person now, but I don’t even remember how I felt six years ago. I can’t really remember myself as a drinker. A lot has changed in my life. I live in a different city. I have a lot of different people around me. 

You’ve lived all over and it’s so intertwined with your music. Could you give me the whole story? 

I grew up in Birmingham. When I was 19 or 20, I moved to Tuscaloosa, Alabama – my sister Allison was going to college there and our band P.S. Eliot existed there for a short time. Then she moved to Chattanooga, Tennessee and I moved back to Birmingham for a few years. Then we both moved to New York when we were 22. I’d made the first Waxahatchee record right before that and she had just started her band, Swearin’. 

I tell you her story, too, because they’re so intertwined. We lived in New York for about 18 months. At the time, [Allison], her boyfriend, and my boyfriend were all in Swearin’. They [decided to] move to Philadelphia and I was kind of sad — I really wanted to stay in New York — but that was my family, so I was like, “I guess I’ll go with you guys, because I’d be alone here.” So I was in Philly for a few years, then I made my [2015] record Ivy Tripp while I was on Long Island for about a year. Then I moved back to Philly for three years, moved back to Birmingham briefly, and then to Kansas City, where I’ve been ever since. 

You started playing in bands with your sister Allison when you were teenagers, 20 years ago. How has that shaped your relationship with her? 

When she was in my band, it was tricky. Because we’re siblings, it’s crazy how boundaryless that relationship can be in a working setting. It was a little chaotic at times. But ultimately, really great. I’ve always kind of made my songs for myself, and Allison. That’s always been my prime audience: if we really like it, I usually trust the rest of the world might like it, too. 

Now she’s such an important part of the people around me, guiding me. We’re in the best place we’ve ever been, even though she’s not in the room when I’m making the records.

From the outside, the trajectory of your career – to bigger stages, bigger record labels, etc. — seems like it’s gone at a nice, measured pace. Does it feel that way to you? 

Yeah. I’m really grateful for the pace my career has gone at. I’ve seen things blow up overnight for some of my peers. As exciting as I’m sure that can be, I think it would be pretty disorienting. There have been moments in my life where if that had happened, I think I would have been completely swallowed up by it. I’m happy at this point in my life. For the most part, every door that opens up in my career, I’m ready to walk though it.

Are there any doors you’ve chosen not to go through over the years? 

When I was in high school, my band performed at this showcase for Gary Gersh, who [famously signed Nirvana], this big time music biz guy. It was us and this other band in Birmingham, who were the two most popular younger indie rock bands in town. I don’t know if they got his attention, but we didn’t. 

I look back on that, and that’s probably for the best. If I had gotten this hotshot L.A. manager when I was 16, my life could look really different. I could have maybe signed on for things that wouldn’t be reflective of the values I’ve developed. My songwriting voice had not really developed yet. It’s probably good I took the slow route. 

If you’d been offered that management deal, what do you think you would have said? 

We were pretty punk rock already. I can see us saying, “We don’t really want to do this.” Allison and I had pretty developed tastes for 16-year olds. 

Collaborating with MJ Lenderman on this album – how did that come up?

I heard his music at South By Southwest. [My partner] Kevin [Morby] was playing South By, he was busy, and I was killing time. My sister Allison does A&R at Anti- [Records] now and my producer Brad Cook, they both texted me at the same time: “We’re gonna go see this guy, MJ Lenderman from North Carolina. Come meet us, you’re gonna love this.” I heard his voice outside the venue [and thought] “This is exactly what I like.” There were 12 people onstage, they had a pedal steel player. Everything I love. 

Then, Brad and I were trying to figure out what we could do [for my next album] that would be different from Saint Cloud. So I threw it out to Brad: “Maybe we could get [MJ] in the mix.”… Brad invited him to the first session. The three of us had a blast. [MJ] played drums for a lot of it, and obviously guitar. When we tracked “Right Back to It,” that was a big turning point. Brad and I were like, “This is a great anchor for what this record should be.” And when [MJ] sang backup on it, it was all over. We had to have him be a big part of the record. 

What grabs you about MJ Lenderman’s playing? 

[MJ] is really into a lot of music I love, but wasn’t engaging with much at the time. Specifically Southern alternative rock from the ‘80s and ‘90s: Drive-By Truckers, Sparklehorse. Jason Molina is a big influence on him. And it really invigorated my love of R.E.M. It knocked out the cobwebs for me. 

I knew he was a great guitar player, but I didn’t totally understand just how special and creative a guitar player he was until we were in a room together.

And MJ’s band, Wednesday – their 2023 album Rat Saw God already feels like a classic. What do you think of that album? 

I spent a lot of time with it. It was one of my favorite records of last year. 

I try not to go too hard with this to [Wednesday], but my sister Allison and I connect with what they’re doing because it reminds us so much of ourselves 10 years ago. Wednesday and MJ, they’re these intertwining creative forces. They’re young, they’re Southern. I think both Wednesday and MJ are making some pretty classic records that teenagers are gonna find for years to come. 

Do you think there’s something unique about indie rock musicians who grew up in the South, around country music? 

I grew up in the South and I’ve been on a journey with it. When I was younger, I lived in the Northeast and that was a big part of my identity — I really rejected country music. I did not think it was cool. Once I was able to come back around on that, not even wholeheartedly embracing being Southern, but accepting it as a part of my story, [the South] lent itself as a great backdrop for my songs. 

Jeff Tweedy & Cheryl Pawelski Sit Down For "Up Close & Personal" Chat: 'Yankee Hotel Foxtrot,' Writing One Song & More

When photographer Charles Peterson first saw Nirvana at a small Seattle club in 1988, he was so underwhelmed he didn’t bother taking a single picture of them.

The band shared a bill with local act Blood Circus, who, Peterson says, "put on quite a grungy show; lots of hair going everywhere and guitars flying." When Nirvana came on, "they had the lighting guy dim the light really low and Kurt [Cobain] just stood there and stared at his feet. The music came off as kind of heavy, really difficult to play. I just didn’t get it." At one point Peterson even turned to Sub Pop Records co-founder Jonathan Poneman and asked him, "Jon, are you sure about these guys?"

 Sub Pop was sure about Nirvana, and would later sign them. And as the label’s in-house photographer, Peterson (who was in his mid-20s at the time) documented the band’s career for the next five years — from their indie days to international stardom. In his latest book, Charles Peterson’s Nirvana, from Minor Matters Books, Peterson has winnowed down his impressive catalog of an estimated 3,000 shots to a well-curated 90. 

Released on Feb. 20, Cobain’s birthday, Charles Peterson’s Nirvana features shots from his first session with the band, lounging in the wilds of Bainbridge Island, Washington ("They did have that kind of hippie aspect to them") to his last, a promotional shoot for In Utero ("They all, Kurt especially, just seemed a little tired"). While the book tells the band's story, it's less of a history and more reflective of Peterson's own experience. 

As Peterson recalls, Minor Matters Founder Michelle Dunn Marsh defined the book’s direction, believing Peterson's "artistic sensibility and how it moves the viewer and portrays the power of the music" set his work apart from the thousands of other images taken of Nirvana. 

Peterson spoke with GRAMMY.com about the stories behind five images in the book. "And like I say in the introduction, go put on a Nirvana record before you look at this book, and you really get that idea of immersion in the music," the photographer advises.

All images © Charles Peterson/Minor Matters Books

Kurt Cobain, University of Washington, Seattle, Jan. 6, 1990

Peterson Got Up Close & On Stage With Nirvana

Peterson had ready access to the band in their pre-Nevermind years. "It was great, in these early days, to be able to just crawl around on the stage, go do whatever I wanted to," he says. "It does bring an intimacy that you lose later on when you’re stuck in a position like the pit or off behind a PA or something."

In his early days of photographing Nirvana, Peterson had free range of movement and often stood behind the band or close at their side. The musicians had also become a lot more active on stage compared to when Peterson first saw them. 

Krist Novoselic, University of Washington, Seattle, Jan. 6, 1990

"I don't know what it was, if it was having Chad [Channing] as their drummer or the addition of Jason Everman for a while [on guitar]; maybe that allowed Kurt to worry a little bit less about hitting the chords perfectly so that he could jump around and go face down on the stage and roll around and do all that," Peterson says. "Even so, he’s not holding the audience’s attention. They’re not looking at Kurt; they’re all looking at something over there, which must be somebody stage diving or something.

"It’s all those little details that you pick up on that are great; there’s a piece of crumpled paper in front, and another photographer up in the back," Peterson notes. "And again, in the Krist shot, he's looking at me yet everyone else is looking away. There’s all this other stuff going on that you don’t even have to pay attention to the band. There’s feet in the air here. A lot of Converse in the photos!"

Crowd shot, Motor Sports International Garage, Seattle, Sept. 22, 1990

Nirvana's Audience Was Just As Important — And Interesting

Peterson always focused his lens on the audience as much as the bands. "I love this one because you’ve got a Nirvana shirt there. One person is looking at me; nobody else is. Bare chests. A lot of sweaty, sweaty hair," he says of the above photo, taken at a makeshift venue that was actually a parking garage.

"Seattle crowds, we’re some of the best. And it just didn’t seem right to isolate the power of the bands from the effect that they were having on the audiences," Peterson reflects. "I found that the photos had just that much more power if you could anchor the band in their time and space with the audience, and see what that reaction is between the two, versus it just being the beauty shot of the singer." 

Peterson says there was both a symbiotic and cathartic relationship between Nirvana and their fans. "People would be like, ‘Oh my God, look at those audiences in Seattle!’" The photos distill the essence of that relationship. "The bands are great, the personalities in the bands are great…that idea that it’s a complete scene, that the participation of the audience is just as important as the participation of the bands."

Peterson recalls standing next to the PA at stage right during this show.

"What I would do is, with one hand, lean out holding the camera upside down over the audience. And then I would have my flash in the other hand, so that the light gave a nice kind of mottling to it. Not looking through the viewfinder, just photographing. I do a lot of that," he says. "The camera takes the picture whether you’re looking through the viewfinder or not." 

Kurt Cobain, Commodore Ballroom, Vancouver, BC, Canada, March 8, 1991

Peterson Sensed This "Smells Like Teen Spirit" Shot Was Something Special  

Peterson knew immediately that something special had occurred when he took this picture. "I remember pushing the shutter on this shot and going, What just happened? But then the show moves on." 

A few days later, Peterson was in his darkroom developing the film and finally saw the impact of the moment he captured. He printed the image and a proof sheet, and gave them to Nirvana’s Seattle publicist Susie Tennant, who shared them with Cobain. The picture is on the back of Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" single. 

The photo became one of Peterson’s most widely reproduced images. "I think what makes a photo iconic is that the photo reads easily and at the same time is larger than life and dramatic," he says. "And despite the fact that it reads easily to the eye, there’s a lot of other stuff, hidden stuff going on that you need to think about. 

"It’s also a photo that you can sort of transport to any time and place. It doesn’t necessarily have to be locked in with this particular show or anything. It really goes beyond that and then that ends up standing the test of time."

Krist Novoselic and Kurt Cobain, Beehive Music & Video, Seattle, September 16, 1991

By '91 Nirvana Inspired Mosh Pits Everywhere, Even In Stores

Peterson calls this in-store appearance, a week before Nevermind was released, as "a watershed moment." 

"This was the last time I saw them play on a floor, which to me makes for great photos because you’re right there at the same level as them. It really is in your face," he says. "What was totally surprising was the subsequent mosh pit in the store, with people being hoisted on shoulders." 

There were also signs of how things were about to change for the band, Peterson recalls. "Kurt was besieged by autograph seekers outside the store. It was the first time I think that really happened to him. He was definitely overwhelmed by it."

Peterson had some challenges in the darkroom when developing this film, which led to a "weird graininess" that differs from many of his other images. "At the time I was like, ‘Oh God!’ But I think it has a unique look that you just don't get with digital now, unless you really manipulate it."

Kurt Cobain, Reading Festival, Reading, UK, August 30, 1992

Kurt Cobain Cared About His Peers

By the time of this show, Nirvana were a bonafide international sensation. The band were plagued by stories of drug use and rumors about an impending break-up, while Courtney Love had just given birth to her and Cobain's daughter. All of which attracted huge media interest in this performance. 

"I was a little shocked when I went into the press tent; I had never been to a festival like this before and there were 96 photographers listed on the dry board!" Peterson reflects. "Photographers that were shooting from the pit in the front of the stage, they would bring them out and give them five minutes each."

That was not going to work for Peterson. 

"And all of a sudden, Nick Cave finished and there was this huge rush to the stage. And [Nirvana’s UK publicist] Anton Brookes grabs me by the wrist and he’s like, ‘Dude, come with me!’ And we all start running up onto the stage, up the ramp. I was taking a few snaps and then everybody settled into their place. There was Eric Erlandson [from Hole] next to me, and to the right was Mark Arm [from Mudhoney] and some members of L7," Peterson says. "I didn’t have an official stage pass or anything like that, but as long as I was with those guys, it was all cool. That was my spot, so I didn’t dare move from it.

"This photo was a really, really special moment. Kurt, in between songs, he just looked over at us, and mouthed something like, ‘How are you guys doing?’ And we’re like, ‘We’re fine.’ And then we started waving like back at him, like, ‘Go play, dude! Don’t worry about us,’" Peterson remembers. 

"It was like he wanted to check in with his peeps on the side of the stage. It’s one of my favorite photos."

A potential volume two of Nirvana photos is being considered, as is a retrospective of Peterson’s work, which includes photos of Soundgarden, Screaming Trees, TAD, Mother Love Bone, Beat Happening, and a multitude of others. But Nirvana invariably tops the list. 

"You can talk and write reams about the dramas and the ins and outs. But it’s the power of the music that keeps people coming back," he says of the band. "And the fact that it’s not rooted in a time and place; you can make the music be whatever you want it to be. I mean, half the time you don’t know what Kurt’s singing about or even what the words are, but you can shout your own words along to it if you want. It’s the music that really is that lasting, lasting legacy."

11 Reasons Why 1993 Was Nirvana's Big Year

The 2012 GRAMMYs were a huge night for the Foo Fighters. Walking in as six-time winners already, the rock band nearly doubled their GRAMMY count with five more golden gramophones that night.

Their two wins for Wasting Light single "Walk," Best Rock Performance and Best Rock Song, may have been the most exciting for Dave Grohl and co. Not because it's their biggest hit, but because it's perhaps their grungiest — literally.

"This was a special record for our band," Grohl said as the band accepted their Best Rock Performance GRAMMY. "Rather than go to the best studio down the street in Hollywood, rather than using all the fanciest computers you can buy, we made this one in my garage with microphones and a tape machine."

Grohl went on to praise producer Butch Vig; the making of "Walk" and the acceptance speech reunited the pair, who hadn't worked together since Nirvana.

"To me, this award means a lot because it shows that the human element of making music is what's most important," Grohl explained. "Singing into a microphone, learning to play an instrument and learning to do your craft is the most important thing. It's not about being perfect … It's about what goes on in [your heart] and what goes on in [your head]."

Press play on the video above to watch Foo Fighters' complete acceptance speech for Best Rock Performance at the 2012 GRAMMY Awards, and check back to GRAMMY.com for more new episodes of GRAMMY Rewind.

Foo Fighters Essential Songs: 10 Tracks That Show The Band's Eternal Rock Spirit