LobaGirl Laments the State of Pop Music

Lobagirl, 11/08/02

…And Seeks Your Solution

I was born in 1980. This means I was 11 years old when “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was unleashed on an unsuspecting public, 14 when Green Day surfaced on the cultural radar with Dookie to revive punk (or at least a punk-ish sound), and a devastated 17 when Soundgarden called it quits. When my generation graduated from high school, we could still find actual guitars playing on top-40 radio. Even so, by this time “youth” music had already began to show signs of a turn for the worse. In 1996, hell broke loose in the form of five singing, dancing signs of the apocalypse: the Backstreet Boys. Three years later, the death rattle of all things rock echoed across the airwaves as “…Baby One More Time” carried Britney Spears into an ill-deserved (and unmercifully lengthy) limelight. And now I’m hearing rumblings of another little sister Spears actively seeking a career in Britney’s omnipresent shadow. But enough about the interlopers…

For those of us in the barely-post-X generation, our younger years were good ones. Damn good ones, musically speaking. Hell, even MTV actually played videos once in a while. We rocked out to the Breeders, chilled out to the sound of the Gin Blossoms on the radio (all the time), learned the intricate beauty of industrial sound with Trent Reznor, destroyed many an innocent sweater with Weezer, and witnessed the one-hit rise and untimely demise of Blind Melon. When Dada sang to us about President George in “Dizz Knee Land,” none of us ever thought this nation would see (or tolerate) the second President George assuming his place. None of us could have predicted in 1993 how one (then) little-known British band with a catchy guitar number called “Creep” would one day serve as a beacon of rock-and-roll hope in an era of computerized pop slop.

Importantly, the concept of “teen angst” also rose to fame along with the music that described/celebrated/caused it. Fifteen and depressed? That’s OK—so’s everyone! Coming-of-age once meant buying combat boots, wearing too much eyeliner, and having an uncanny love affair with torn flannel and Tool T-shirts. Nowadays, Carson Daly and his ubiquitous TRL serve as makeshift initiators to the fold of American pop-cultured teenagers. And “teen angst”? Well, it disappeared (along with the aging, ratty flannels) sometime around spring cleaning ’98.

Now, I don’t intend to sound like some old fart talking about the way things were back in the day. Honestly, I harbor a genuine concern for today’s teenager. Recent “alternative” rock has reached depths of pseudo-depression (and musical imitation) the likes of which have rarely been seen in the pop music canon. Punk just isn’t considered pop-sounding enough to get airplay anymore. And “emo,” while more musically promising than your average pop genre, hasn’t managed to capture public attention the way that Kurt Cobain, Eddie Vedder and their cohorts once did (remember Time magazine’s cover with Eddie? I do…). But outside of the fuzzy boundaries of “alternative,” what is there? Ms. Spears and her minions, of course. (If you’re ready to offer Michelle Tree or Shrub or Branch or whatever her name is as the real deal, she may write her own stuff but she’s still nothing but a computer with a pretty face. Reality? Try again.) I hate the idea that today’s musically moderate teenager is forced to listen to Creed and Nickelback for lack of a more original, culturally recognized, and relevant (ahem) alternative.

So here’s my modest proposal: I want to compile a definitive discography that should be given on behalf of all of us who remember good music (i.e. everyone between 20 and 30) to every newly minted teenager on the morning of her thirteenth birthday. “You’re a teenager now. You need these bands. Trust us. We’ve been there.”

But I don’t trust myself to create this List alone. (Off the top of my head, my prescription would be something along the lines of every teenager owning Nevermind, at least three Pearl Jam studio albums, and maybe trying to listen to Bob Dylan every once in a while.) So I want everyone to e-mail me his or her version of The Five Albums That Might Resurrect ‘90s Rock.

Rules of Submission:

  1. Keep your personal list to five entries, please.
  2. Defend each of your choices in three sentences or less. (Your defense, however, is subject to criticism, ridicule, or deletion. It’s my call.)
  3. Include artist name, album title, and imprint year for each entry. Check allmusic.com if you need to obtain or clarify any of this information.
  4. Imprint year can be any year from 1990-present. If you think Yankee Hotel Foxtrot might single-handedly save rock-n-roll, go ahead and add it—it’s OK that it’s not from the ’90s.
  5. E-mail your list to me with a clear subject heading like “Rock List” or “Smashing Pumpkins in the House!”
  6. Pass this request along to your twentysomething friends. The more opinions we get, the better off the discography will be.

Results will be processed somehow at a later date and posted here at CNF. Keep checking for updates. Think long and hard about this one, folks—the next generation is counting on us.

(Parsley likes Nirvana fine but has not-so-vague misgivings about this project. He is preparing a formal response which will be completed probably never.)