adaptations: reimagining “something in the way” – tatanka’s reinvention of an anthem for the forgotten

humanity and ai transform nirvana’s classic into a reflection of america in 2025

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tatanka’s take on “something in the way”—a lakota lament for the forgotten

in the spirit of tatanka’s upcoming album, “adaptations,” radical reinventions of musical classics, the latest transformation of “something in the way” transforms nirvana’s haunting dirge into an indigenous requiem, a tribute to the resilience of the lakota sioux and indigenous peoples across the americas. this version echoes the same despair and alienation captured in the band’s recent reinterpretation of “creep,” but now turns its gaze toward the ancestral trauma, cultural erasure, and unbroken spirit of those who have long been made to feel invisible in their own lands.

a song for the lost, a voice for the silenced

where “creep” was an anthem for the marginalized and terrorized in 2025 america, this new vision of “something in the way” weaves its sorrow into the struggle of indigenous communities who have endured centuries of displacement, forced assimilation, and systemic violence. in this version, the lyrics—sung entirely in lakota—carry the weight of history and memory, invoking the whispers of ancestors and the pain of a people who refuse to be erased.

the refrain, once a murmured confession of kurt cobain’s estrangement from the world, now speaks to the enduring wounds of indigenous genocide and the silent resilience beneath it:

“šni léčhake wówačhiŋ kiŋ, wówačhiŋ šni.” (“nothing left to take, but we remain.”)

reclaiming sound and story

musically, tatanka’s interpretation channels the vast, windswept plains of the lakota homelands, blending drone-like ambient textures with traditional native instrumentation. the steady, mournful pulse of a buffalo hide drum underpins the track, mirroring the heartbeat of a people who have survived despite relentless oppression. ghostly echoes of cedar flutes intertwine with ai-generated sonic landscapes, bridging the ancient and the futuristic—much like the coexistence tatanka envisions for humanity and ai.

guitarwork remains minimal yet deeply evocative, favoring bowed strings and reverberating drones that evoke the spectral presence of lost generations. the voice, raw and unadorned, carries the weight of oral tradition, embodying the communal grief and defiance of a culture that will not be silenced.

from marginalized to monumental

by reinterpreting “something in the way” through an indigenous lens, tatanka does more than pay homage to a classic—it amplifies the unheard voices of history. just as “creep” became a meditation on modern alienation and oppression, this rendition transforms an already haunting track into a sacred elegy for those who have lived—and continue to live—on the margins.

this is not just a song. it is a call to remember, to honor, and to resist.

[verse]

ožáte kiŋ šíyutȟaŋpi él, wičháȟpi kiŋ čhél iyéya

na wakȟáŋȟeža kiŋ mákȟačheča, mitȟáwa kiŋ hečápi

na pȟežúta wašté čha waŋbláke, hél iyéya wačhíŋ

hoǧáŋ wašté šni yo, lečhála wakȟáŋni

[chorus]

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, mmm

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, yeah, mmm

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, mmm

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, yeah, mmm

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, mmm

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, yeah, mmm

[verse]

ožáte kiŋ šíyutȟaŋpi él, wičháȟpi kiŋ čhél iyéya

na wakȟáŋȟeža kiŋ mákȟačheča, mitȟáwa kiŋ hečápi

na pȟežúta wašté čha waŋbláke, hél iyéya wačhíŋ

hoǧáŋ wašté šni yo, lečhála wakȟáŋni

[chorus]

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, mmm

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, yeah, mmm

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, mmm

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, yeah, mmm

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, mmm

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, yeah, mmm

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, mmm

šuŋgmánitu kiŋ heháŋ, yeah, mmm