It's the box set we suspected we might never see, thanks to the infighting in Nirvana LLC. And while it seemed to be down to an ongoing feud between Courtney Love and Dave Grohl it would be unfair to cast aspersions here - Love has been perennially cast as the group's Yoko figure, a view that is both childish and perhaps slightly misogynistic. So while the box set seemed to solidify out of thin air, much like the recent eponymous Best Of, it's a welcome arrival. One suspects, however, that this isn't the last word on the band - when it was first mooted Love touted some eighty unreleased songs. A total sixty odd tracks plus a DVD are here, with at least a couple of notable omissions.

I've always hated reviews which start by describing the cover or the packaging - as if that mattered as much as the music - but, like so much with this band, it stands apart. A metal panel forms the front cover, printed with an iconic picture of the classic Cobain/Novoselic/Grohl line-up in matching ties and jackets like they've just stepped out of the Ryder Cup team. The rest of the box is a heat reactive pile of demo tapes that gives the illusion of handling Nirvana's legacy, as your fingerprints get plastered all over them before fading into memory. A booklet that lays out chronological memories by the group and associated friends, as well as a proper essay by Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore, completes the package. It's a beautiful object that leaves you awestruck even before you get to the music.

And what music! Having gone sometime without listening to Nirvana it's a near religious experience to hear acoustic demos, long forgotten 'new' songs and see footage of early shows. At times Kurt's voice is poignant and haunting, at others pained and powerful. The range of emotion Cobain was able to evoke is shocking, even when he's singing Burroughs-esque cut-and-paste nonsense. Some tracks have no doubt appeared on the countless bootlegs available at your local record fair and some need never have seen the light of day - notably the retarded Bleach-era squeak-fest of "Beans" - though, thankfully, there are precious few of these. Among my favourites is a rollicking upbeat cover of Ledbetter's "Ain't It A Shame", while Dave's first writing credit "Marigold" hints at the direction taken by Foo Fighters in their more thoughtful moments. The purest and most touching moment in the whole package is the final track on the DVD - a surprisingly straight rendition of the cloying "Seasons In The Sun" - just Cobain, Novoselic and Grohl sat in a recording booth, intercut with moments of relaxed goofing.

While the original albums stand as the definitive documents that attest to Nirvana's impact and Kurt Cobain's fractured genius, With The Lights Out serves to colour between the lines, ultimately allowing a better, though by no means complete, understanding of the band. While much is made of Kurt's tragic end it often forgets that, at its very heart, Nirvana was a band formed by friends to make music they enjoyed, just like thousands of kids in garages around the world. That they became something so much more to so many was extra. If you were one of those people you need this record.