Nevermind.
That's one word, a dismissive grunt that combines "You wouldn't understand" with "I don't have the energy to explain, anyway".
As a moniker for the album that catapulted grunge into the mainstream, it's pretty darned apposite.
And it sure beats Sheep, the working title for Nirvana's 1991 follow-up to debut LP Bleach.
Of course, nothing about grunge was new.
Its woe-is-me demeanour and flannel wardrobe were simply the latest versions of Elvis' curled lip and a teddy boy's brothel-creepers.
The genre's sludgy guitar sound took punk's slapdash delivery and weighted it with slabs of heavy rock.
Kurt Cobain had already tired of grunge's stoner dissonance by the time the Nevermind sessions with producer Butch Vig rolled around.
He wanted to make a heavy album, yes, but he was churning out pop melodies that owed more to '60s beat groups than to Mudhoney or the Melvins.
He openly envied the dynamic variation in the music of the Pixies and half-jokingly longed to join the band.
And so, by tweaking the grunge recipe a little and by enlisting a production team that knew how to beef up and tone the three-piece's sound, Nirvana came up with an album that would awaken the world to an already fading movement.
Grunge's centrepiece would be a crisper, tighter, more melodic version of what had gone before.
Packed with memorable hooks, it would inveigle its way into the public consciousness via one mega-hit (Smells Like Teen Spirit) and three strong follow-ups (Come As You Are, Lithium and In Bloom), and in doing so would hasten Cobain's demise.
Cobain struggled with the irony inherent in Nevermind's success.
How could he rail against something he'd been so instrumental in corporatising? How could he claim misfit status when his CD graced the shelves of every second home? Oops!
