BECK, “DEADWEIGHT”
There was a time when music videos doubled as trailers for the movie soundtrack they appeared on.
Thus yielding twice the nostalgic citrus for the scurvy of today.
DINOSAUR JR., “FEEL THE PAIN”
In 2010 I was walking a few friends through their first Waffle House dining experience in Fredericksburg, Virginia.
As if to speak to Waffle House’s true social democracy, in walked J. Mascis, who sat down in a neighboring booth with unparalleled confidence and cool.
I proceeded to have a quiet freakout in front of my friends, all of whom had no idea who he or Dinosaur Jr. are.
I was so distracted that my hash browns got cold.
And I never let my hash browns go cold.
THE GET UP KIDS, “ACTION AND ACTION”
Something To Write Home About was released in September of 1999, and the accompanying video has become a time capsule of a society on the cusp of change.
Look for some of the following signs of the times: Landlines, 3/4 sleeve t-shirts, ironic games, emo glasses, the “duck ass” hair coif, the original iMac, actual photographs of friends, and the nerdy-but-not-lacking-in-potential-girl-next-door.
It was not long after this that The Get Up Kids went on tour with Weezer.
Both bands had embraced prominent neon signage by that point.
A clear sign that the end had arrived.
VIOLENT FEMMES, “AMERICAN MUSIC”
In 8th grade I was given a Memorex cassette tape of the Violent Femmes first album.
I listened to it so many times that I constructed an entire narrative thread through the ordering of the songs, complete with a fully developed, yet tragically flawed, protagonist.
A protagonist who, of course, was just like me.
American Music is from an album that came out eight years after that first record.
It’s about me and that cassette tape, alone in my room.
We all have that “cassette tape” from middle school.
We had to.
SNOW, “INFORMER”
Yesterday I was putting groceries in my trunk when a young man approached me in the parking lot.
He proceeded to pitch me on how he was raising money for a charitable organization supporting “urban youth,” before thrusting a photo of them smiling into a camera at an area paintball range into my face.
It was an old photo.
I know this because one of these “youths” was wearing a Snow t-shirt.
In a polaroid photograph.
I wonder what it would be like to play paintball against Snow.
You’d probably clip him on his baggy clothing and then hear a lot of cursing in a pseudo-Jamaican accent as you continued to pelt him with paint.
At this exact moment Snow is probably soliciting cash from people in a parking lot.
And not playing paintball with at-risk youths.
BUFFALO TOM, “SODAJERK”
Listen to this song and try to not think about the show “My So-Called Life.”
Hard, right?
Never seen the show?
I highly recommend the episode, “Why Jordan Can’t Read.”
Because it’s hilarious.
ELASTICA, “STUTTER”
In a lot of ways Elastica was lost in the shuffle of the mid-90’s “British Influx” of bands like Blur, Bush, The Verve, and the ever cocksure Oasis. (Influx is the right word, it was far from an “invasion.”)
But not unlike The Verve, who were sued by The Rolling Stones, Elastica made lesser headlines by being sued by indie-credible bands like Wire and The Stranglers.
Either way, songs like “Stutter” and “Connection” made for a catchy soundtrack to an aimless trip to the 7-11, or the dreaded stroll to middle school with your Walkman.
Cheers, Elastica.
Wherever you are.
RADIOHEAD, “JUST”
During the summer of ‘97, for reasons unknown to me, I was playing a lot of original Ninetendo (if you want to get a competitive game of Tetris going, call me) and listening to The Bends over and over again in my parent’s basement.
This is one of their best videos from that album.
I bet Radiohead plays a mean game of Tetris.
Or maybe they’re more into Dr. Mario.
THE SMASHING PUMPKINS, “PERFECT”
(Pt. II)
Our five friends have clearly done some growing up, trading aimless afternoons of frivolity for the bottle, babies, batting cages, and bad life choices (alliteration, again).
Guitarist James Iha reprises his role as Stop & Shop clerk.
Mr. Corgan dons a cowboy hat and watches on from a construction crane (symbolic commentary on suburban sprawl, perhaps?).
And the band, having risen above performing house parties, appears at rock club “Pink’s” in fashionable goth attire, and is bootlegged by a member of our suburban love polygon.
This is why people should leave their hometowns.
When the microwave at the beginning of the video flashes “End” it signals that there is more than just delicious leftovers waiting for us.
THE SMASHING PUMPKINS, “1979”
Five friends frolic (alliteration, you like that?) through the suburban teenage experience:
Pulling donuts in the parking lot, throwing things into the pool that don’t belong in a pool, toilet papering a house, rolling down a grassy hill, going to a house show, and generally “pissing off the squares.”
Enjoy it now, Unnamed Teens in the 1979 music video.
Billy Corgan’s creepy laugh from the backseat is foreshadowing a grim fate for you all.
(End Pt. I)
