Sinéad O’Connor’s The Lion and the Cobra was one of my favorite albums of 1987, a cassette I listened to just frequently as I did Music for the Masses or Strangeways, Here We Come or Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me from that same year.
I’d heard “Mandinka” on 120 Minutes and loved it instantly, and bought the album soon after. I even had an album flat of it on my bedroom wall, hung just above my stereo. The album opener “Jackie” influenced my love for the ‘slow build’ of certain songs, and that one in particular is so well crafted — it’s mixed super quiet at first and steadily becomes REALLY FUCKING LOUD at the end — that I sometimes think of that track when I utilize the same style in my storytelling. I loved the soar and swell of side-closer “Never Get Old” and the fun funk of “I Want Your (Hands On Me)”. For a few months as a teen I’d listen to this one on the bus on the way to school.
I didn’t always follow her career too closely, whether from distraction or from lack of funds to buy the records, but I loved whatever she released. She will be missed.
As I’d mentioned earlier, JA played matchmaker between me and D in March of 1994. It was a strange whirlwind of a relationship and, as I’ve also mentioned in the past, we inspired both the best and the worst in each other. In retrospect we probably could have been great friends if we hadn’t hooked up. I see now that my then circle of friends weren’t the best fit for me but I was just too emotionally desperate for connection to find anyone else. Both D and JA might have had the best of intentions, but they’d also frequently pushed me out of my comfort zone when it was obvious that I needed to be there for my own mental and emotional sanity. My friendship with them was very similar to one I’d had back in the late 80s with two neighborhood kids that were also not the best influences for me but they were all I had. It was like living that constant discomfort all over again. [And this is why I’ve never completely dissed social media: nearly all my closest and dearest friends are elsewhere in the world and I’m blessed and happy that I can easily talk to them at any time.]
I’d also started that new project while Nocturne continued to simmer on a backburner. Two Thousand was to be my Gen-X coming of age story, grown out of my college friendships and how distinct our generation was from previous ones. It was full of Gen-X tropes: snark, nihilism, music, frustration, and absurdist humor. It focused on a self-inserted character name Stephen (my fallback name for years) trying to figure out what the hell he wanted to do with his life now that he was no longer a student; his circle of friends is splintering off into Real Life Day Jobs and Points Elsewhere and he’s not sure how to process that. He’s also a musician trying to keep his band from falling apart, and frustrated at how fucking hard it is to be creative and still afford to live in a city like Boston. [Stephen’s band Billow would get a cameo years later in my novel Meet the Lidwells.]
Luna, Bewitched, released 1 March 1994. Dean Wareham’s first couple of albums under this moniker sounded very similar to his previous band Galaxie 500: very quiet, almost delicate, and nearly lo-fi. By this album they’d gotten bolder and stronger in sound, but they never quite lost their delicateness.
Beck, Mellow Gold, released 1 March 1994. Beck’s big breakthrough was a huge hit, thanks to having signed to Geffen and getting a giant promotional push with “Loser”. This can pretty much be considered his first professional-sounding record as it’s cleaner and beefier than his previous indie releases, many self-produced.
Blur, “Girls and Boys” single, released 7 March 1994. My favorite Britpop band dropped a teaser single for their next album, Parklife, and it’s one of their finest moments. Addictive, danceable, and a track you need to listen to loud. Definitely a change from their moodier and lighter Modern Life Is Rubbish, that’s for sure.
Failure, Magnified, released 8 March 1994. I loved their first album Comfort, even though they’d been dismissed as Nirvana wannabees, and this one had also been unjustly ignored by most radio stations as well (partly due to the release of the next two albums listed below), even though they’d dropped a video for the single “Undone”. They’d finally achieve critical success a few years later with Fantastic Planet, but at a steep cost. I always recommend anything from this band, to be honest!
Soundgarden, Superunknown, released 8 March 1994. This album won me over immediately. This is one of those ‘they’d done their homework’ albums for me: they had a clear vision and refused to let anything stop them from achieving it, and the result is a damn fine album of brilliant alternative rock. This wasn’t grunge anymore; this was alt-rock meets epic metal with a dusting of their psychedelia roots. Highly recommended.
Nine Inch Nails, The Downward Spiral, released 8 March 1994. I’ve posted about this one recently, in that I haven’t sat down and listened to it from start to finish for quite a few years, but at the time of its release it was on extremely heavy rotation on my Walkman. It resonated heavily with my feelings of frustration and uselessness and I was fine with letting myself simmer in those moods for a bit while this blared through my headphones.
Morrissey, Vauxhall and I, 14 March 1994. On the other side of the mood spectrum was everyone’s favorite Mancunian curmudgeon recording…somewhat of a lighthearted and fun record? It’s true, when he’s in a great mood he can be quite chipper, even silly at times, and this was a fun change of pace when I was too exhausted to continue dealing with my growly moods.
Alison Moyet, Essex, released 21 March 1994. Alf has consistently been a brilliant singer and songwriter, and “Whispering Your Name” remains one of my favorite tracks of hers. She embraces more of the British dance beats with this album, which may have helped her win more fans in the clubs.
Collective Soul, Hints, Allegations & Things Left Unsaid, released 22 March 1994. Sure, they were Grunge Lite with hints of hippie jam band leanings, but they were catchy as hell and this album was super enjoyable. [Noted, if you want to know what I might have looked like hair and fashionwise in the early 90s, see singer Ed Roland. Heh.]
Phish, Hoist, released 29 March 1994. These semi-local guys from Vermont had always had a strong following in New England, even though you’d rarely hear them on the radio. “Down with Disease” did get a bit of play though, and even got a rare music video out of them as well. WBCN used to play this band when they were feeling more adventurous.
Soundtrack, The Crow, released 29 March 1994. I saw this movie in the huge Loews theater that used to be on the ground floor of the Revere Hotel in Boston. I’d been a fan of the original comic book and while it didn’t quite live up to my high expectations, it was nonetheless an enjoyable film. The soundtrack was amazing, featuring songs from The Cure, Nine Inch Nails, Violent Femmes, Stone Temple Pilots and more, and this too got a lot of play on my Walkman.
Pink Floyd, The Division Bell, released 30 March 1994. It took me a few years to get around to buying this record, but I loved hearing the lovely and moody “High Hopes” on WBCN. I felt it wasn’t quite as cohesive as A Momentary Lapse of Reason, which I absolutely loved, but I’ve grown to enjoy it.
*
Somewhere in all of this, I ragequit a job. Not the best of ideas and I dug my own hole here, but I’d had enough. It had all come to a head one morning when we’d gotten a huge shipment in and the floor manager for the book section had gotten pissed at me that I hadn’t gotten to his stuff yet. My immediate manager — the one who thought I was simple — literally pulled a weak ‘yeah, what’s wrong with you?’ while giving me a look of better you than me. That was the breaking point and I quit within the hour.
Not the best of ideas when you’re already skint and barely making enough to feed yourself. I let myself cool down for a day or so, and started looking for another job. I’d find it a week or so later at a Brigham’s Ice Cream on Cambridge Street. A closer commute, about the same pay, and I could surreptitiously ‘forage’ (heh) as a way to subvert that ‘affording to feed myself’ problem I’d been having lately. Not the most glamorous of jobs…but one that put me in a better frame of mind.
*
Coming up: A creative nudge and a return to…reading?
The other day I found a chronology spreadsheet that mentions this era and puts a few personal things in their proper order, and I see that I didn’t meet up with D until March of 1994, which makes sense. [I hear you: why the hells do you have a spreadsheet of your past? What kind of weirdo are you? Well, a) I’m a writer, and b) it was initially built up for the Walk In Silence book project and thus laid out what I wrote at the time as well as personal and public events that went on at the time. Simple as that.] It does clarify things a bit, as I know my final months at the Shoebox were just as exciting as they were tense.
ANYWAY. Things were about to change pretty soon, but not just yet. February of 1994 wasn’t entirely without incident, as I’d been focusing on multiple writing projects: more examination of Nocturne and the possibility of finally working on the long-delayed Two Thousand project. Now as then, I didn’t always start from the beginning but wrote and gathered up several notes over several days (or months, or years) to see what I could make of them. At least something was going in the right direction!
Green Day, Dookie, released 1 February 1994. The breakthrough heard ’round the world dropped almost quietly and unassumingly with the “Longview” single. It was immediately picked up by WFNX and WBCN and you’d hear it several times over the course of a week. WFNX was a bit more adventurous and would pull out some of the deep cuts as well. A few months later they’d storm the Hatch Shell and cause chaos throughout the city.
Pavement, Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, released 2 February 1994. I wanted to like this band but something about their deliberatelly half-assed slacker delivery didn’t quite gel with me. Still, “Cut Your Hair” was just as ubiquitous as Green Day on the airwaves.
Cake, Motorcade of Generosity, released 7 February 1994. I wouldn’t get into this band until their 1996 album Fashion Nugget, but I do remember hearing “Rock and Roll Lifestyle” on WFNX every now and again.
The Greenberry Woods, Rapple Dapple, released 8 February 1994. This band came and went rather quickly but I remember really liking the “Trampoline” single at the time. I bought the cassette for this at Tower and would listen to it at the Shoebox during my downtime.
The London Suede, “Stay Together” single, released 14 February 1994. A single-only release that often gets overlooked, but it shows where the band was headed, already evolving away from their glam swagger and more towards heady indie rock. I remember hearing it every now and again but it really didn’t do much here in the States.
Soundgarden, “Spoonman” single, released 15 February 1994. I’d been a passive fan of this band since first hearing them my freshman year, but even with this song I could tell they were taking a detour into a style that was less prog-meets-grunge and heading into darker post-punk territory. Its super-tight production and dense tension made everyone eager for the album that would come the next month.
Stabbing Westward, Ungod, released 15 February 1994. I initially lumped this band in with the industrial-alternative genre that was certainly out there but not quite making a dent, no matter how loud they might be. And this band was LOUD. “Nothing” got considerable airplay and the album would eventually become a favorite, leading them towards more popularity in the latter half of the decade.
Low, I Could Live in Hope, released 18 February 1994. This amazing duo’s debut dropped almost without notice in the early half of the year, hidden amongst the louder and more dissonant grunge and hard rock. They were hard to pin down but they had loyal fans from the beginning.
The Grays, Ro Sham Bo, released 22 February 1994. Jason Falkner’s group after leaving Jellyfish was with Jon Brion and it was unfortunately a one-and-done project, but it’s one hell of a fine indie pop gem. It’s out of print and hard to find, but it’s definitely worth checking out if you can find it.
Nine Inch Nails, “March of the Pigs” single, 25 February 1994. Speaking of teaser singles, this was Trent Reznor’s first since the dense and angry Broken and Fixed EPs and a handful of disturbing related music videos. And it’s one hell of an introduction to his next project, considering that it was both a bit more listenable than the EPs and a bit more terrifying in its moods.
*
Coming up: Disconnects and reconnects, unknowns and spirals
Why am I continuing this particular series, you ask? Especially since it’s no longer part of the Thirty Years On? To be honest, I felt I’d left the last entry up in the air, and the full story of what was going to happen within the next two years while I lived in Boston hadn’t even really gotten started. There’s a lot more to go here than just leaving college and figuring things out.
Two things happened in January of 1994: One, I was excited about starting this new story idea, even if the style and genre were completely new to me. I hadn’t felt this excited about a project for ages and I wasn’t about to pass it by. Two, JA introduced me to a girl one evening at a restaurant we sometimes went to, and one thing of course led to another and we were going out. D and I were…well, let’s just say that in retrospect we were great for each other when it came to creativity, humor and a love of music, but emotionally we should not have been in the same room. A great friendship that became a rollercoaster relationship and an interesting co-writing team. That is, when we were both not falling into our own worst moods and habits.
Mixtape, Nocturne OST, created January 1994. My science fiction story idea had taken root and on my days off and in the evenings when I wasn’t out with friends, I would work on a bit of worldbuilding for what was now entitled Nocturne. A few name changes and a major change in setting — and eventually even a map drawn for reference — and I was rolling. I even made the first mixtape, initially on the backside of my Belief in Fate mixtape that I’d made in the summer of 1989 — of songs that were decidedly different from the bloated soundtrack of the Infamous War Novel. [This playlist is missing the first track, Curve’s “Fait Accompli”.] This story might have had its origins with the IWN, but it certainly wasn’t going to be the same one I’d been trying to revive and revise all these years.
Course of Empire, Initiation, released 18 January 1994. I remember WFNX playing the above remix of the “Infested” single as it did something most metal/industrial bands didn’t do at the time: throwing incongruous yet perfect samples into the mix. In this case, Benny Goodman’s “Sing Sing Sing (with a Swing)”. It’s a wild and bizarre track but it was a perfect example of the Gen-X absurdist sense of humor.
Beck, Loser EP, released 18 January 1994. This song just exploded everywhere when it dropped early in the year, partly because it was such a perfect Gen-X theme song and partly because no one knew what the hell he was even singing about. Beck had been around in one indie form or another for a few years by this time, but this one song broke him into the mainstream for years to come.
Soundtrack, Faraway, So Close!, released 24 January 1994. Wim Wenders’ sequel to his brilliant 1987 movie Wings of Desire may not have been as big of a hit — let’s be honest, it had a lot to live up to — but it is a lovely movie nonetheless.
Kristin Hersh, Hips and Makers, released 25 January 1994. The Throwing Muses lead singer finally releases her own first solo album and it’s so delicate and fragile and so much the opposite of the Muses’ chaos that you’re afraid to break it. And yet “Your Ghost” remains one of her best and most beloved solo songs ever. It was well worth the wait.
Alice in Chains, Jar of Flies EP, released 25 January 1994. I’d been a passive fan of AIC, but I loved this release and played it endlessly on my Walkman. It’s quite different from their previous grunge style, instead focusing on a style that’s not quite folk rock but not quite indie either. Every single song on this EP is a banger. And yes, this one ended up as a high-repeat player during my writing sessions, not only during these years but later during the Belfry Years.
Meat Puppets, Too High to Die, released 25 January 1994. This band never quite got as famous as, say, Nirvana, even though they were friends and the latter would cover multiple songs of theirs during their MTV Unplugged session. “Backwater” ended up in heavy rotation for a number of years on alternative radio.
Tori Amos, Under the Pink, released 31 January 1994. Tori’s second album wasn’t nearly as devastating as her first, but she wasn’t about to let go of her quirky piano style just yet. I kind of prefer this one out of her early records as she seems to be having more fun exploring different styles and lyrical avenues with this one.
*
Coming up: Creativity sparked, story and poetry ideas bursting forth, and another job lost
So here we were, finishing up the last month of 1993, putting to bed whatever my life had been over the last several years, but having no idea what to do next. Or rather, kinda sorta knowing, but having little to no ability to reach for it and being extremely aware that I could be easily distracted and influenced? Yes, I was well aware of the mental and emotional issues I had at the time, and yet I felt I had to function with them regardless, having very few available spoons to figure them out and make them retreat.
Still — on those quieter days and evenings where I sat down at my table and played around with a possible new universe to write in, that’s when I was most at peace with myself. That was what I wanted to do, and I would need to learn how to harness it, keep it in mind and keep it alive.
Distractions and all.
Ramones, Acid Eaters, released 1 December 1993. This was a bit of an odd detour for the band, who’d decided to release an album full of garage band influences. It didn’t get much positive attention but regardless, it’s got some really fun covers on it.
Underworld, dubnobasswithmyheadman, released 1 December 1993. I remembered this band from 1988 when they came out with the synthpoppy song “Underneath the Radar”. I did not expect them to immerse themselves so deeply into the growing techno scene. They didn’t get much airplay on WFNX except on their weekend electronic show, and “Cowgirl” was a big favorite not to mention the biggest flipping earworm ever!
Cocteau Twins, Snow EP, released 1 December 1993. I wouldn’t have expected the band to record Christmas songs like this, but they’re just as light and heartfelt and enjoyable as you’d expect them to be! WFNX used to play “Frosty the Snowman” a lot as it’s the best of the two tracks and the one that closely mirrors their own style.
Mixtape, Untitled V, created December 1993. This one’s interesting in that it mirrors two different previous Untitled mixes: one from earlier in the year, full of recent purchases that reflect my changing musical tastes, and one from 1989 where I purposely made one side loud and the other one soft. Because of this it became one of my favorite mixtapes and one I’d listen to quite a bit over several years.
Enigma, The Cross of Changes, released 6 December 1993. “Return to Innocence” was the other big hit by this band and one that would get airplay everywhere, from pop to alternative stations and beyond to several movie and television soundtracks. It proved that they weren’t just a one-hit wonder with their world-meeds-techno groove.
Deep Forest, Deep Forest, released 14 December 1993. …and on the coattails of Enigma came this group, full of ambient chillwave grooves and ethnocentric samples. This was a style that would hit its apex within a few years before sliding back into obscurity, but for awhile they were just as prevalent as Enigma if not more so. “Sweet Lullaby” was a big hit for alternative and AOR radio.
*
I literally ended the year working my shift at the Coop, heading down the slushy sidewalks towards the E Line and listening to WFNX’s Top 101 of the year that started just about when I punched out. I missed maybe the first half hour of songs but made it back to the apartment to listen to the countdown and of course tape it, the first time I’d done that in years. This was also the first time I’d spent New Years’ Eve not with family, partly because of work and partly because I just wanted to see the year out on my own terms.
So what did 1994 have in store for me? Good question. Come January JA would play matchmaker whether I was ready for it or not and one of my more turbulent long-term relationships would commence. On the plus side…I’d continue writing, eventually (and finally) starting the Two Thousand project. It was slow going, but it was at least going in the right direction.
In retrospect, I see now that my dark mood during the Boston post-college years wasn’t just about being poor, directionless and frustrated…but also being acutely aware of my worst habits, tendencies and problems and having little or no way to fix them or figure them out other than through sheer fucking stubborn will. It would take another couple of years and personal events before I’d climb out of that morass and make my way into something more positive and healthy.
And also in retrospect, even though a lot of what came out in 1993 is inexorably tied with those moods, I can listen to a lot of this now and accept that there were some really great records that became not just personal favorites but major influences in my life and my writing.
So all in all…1993 wasn’t all that bad. It just kind of sucked in certain ways. But I survived, and that’s what matters most.
I still had a long way to go to get my act together, but I’d like to think that I might be getting there, mistakes and all. Already I was having to deal with JA’s influence — sometimes positive and helpful but just as often negative and intrusive — and learning how to set boundaries for myself. Meanwhile, my job at the Coop had changed over the course of just a month or so: I’d started out as a checker and floor help, but moved onto what would end up being one of my frequent fall-backs down the line: assistant shipping and receiving clerk. I was up back in the messy and dusty back room checking in the new deliveries and seeing out the old returns, and also doing a bit of cleaning around both levels of the store. I did most of the heavy lifting for the main receiving guy who I got along with but I think he thought I was a bit simple and treated me as such, when in all honesty I think the roles were flipped here. Nice guy, but definitely full of hubris. [I remember he also had a weirdly strong obsession with Tina Turner, partly due to the biopic What’s Love Got to Do with It having come out a few months previous.]
About the same time I struck up a friendship with a woman a few years older than myself who was a holiday temp. We got along like gangbusters and our talks sometimes ended up turning into flirtation and eventually it became a short fling. In retrospect I’m kind of sad that I let it go on the way it did because I definitely was not in the right frame of mind for a relationship. It didn’t last long and felt guilty for a long time about the way I ended it, severing a friendship in the process.
Mind you, I was about to not follow my own damn advice in short order.
O-Positive, Home Sweet Head, released 1 November 1993. This local band was always a favorite for the indie crowd and especially on WFNX. I never got around to seeing them live but I did own a few of their albums including this one with its radio favorite “Hey Dave”.
Fury in the Slaughterhouse, Mono, released 1 November 1993. This German alt-rock band had a minor alt-rock radio hit with “Every Generation” which WFNX played quite a bit. It’s a dismal heartbreaker of a track but it’s one of their best. A band worth checking out.
Cocteau Twins, Four-Calendar Café, 2 November 1993. As I’d said about the “Evangeline” single, the rest of the album had a very wintry feel, light and ethereal as always but with a bit of cold tension added. I listened to this one quite a bit during my writing sessions.
INXS, Full Moon, Dirty Hearts, 2 November 1993. This one didn’t go over well with the fans and critics as they felt it too noisy and abrasive and trying to jump on the grunge bandwagon, but they were already looking to evolve past their tried-and-true rock style. Cheesy video aside, I loved the single “The Gift” and had it as a cassette single, and I used to listen to it on headphones a lot.
Kate Bush, The Red Shoes, 2 November 1993. This album, which would end up being her last for quite a few years, was based on the story of the same name and may have distanced some fans who didn’t quite get it, like myself. It retrospect I think it’s a pretty good album and very similar to her previous records.
Various Artists, No Alternative, released 9 November 1993. I absolutely loved this compilation (it’s part of the Red Hot Organization tribute album collection) and listened to it frequently. Bob Mould’s “Can’t Fight It” is one of my top favorite tracks of ’93 and I even attempted to learn how to play it myself! It’s a wild alternative mix: Matthew Sweet, Goo Goo Dolls, Pavement, Soundgarden, Smashing Pumpkins, Beastie Boys, and a hidden track by Nirvana. Highly recommended.
Various Artists, Stone Free: A Tribute to Jimi Hendrix, released 9 November 1993. I loved this one as well, even though I sometimes skipped some of the tracks. The Cure’s trippy take on “Purple Haze” fits in with their glossy Mixed Up sound, PM Dawn’s “You Got Me Floatin'” is by far the funkiest Hendrix cover I’ve ever heard, and Seal’s “Manic Depression” is powerful. Also highly recommended.
Paul McCartney, Paul Is Live, 15 November 1993. Paul was a busy guy in the early 90s, not only releasing a new and popular album but also making TV appearances as well as embarking on a tour with a great backing band. He leans pretty heavily on his Beatle past here, so much so that he riffs on the famous Abbey Road cover for this one — as well as its connection to the ‘Paul is dead’ myth.
The Fireman (Paul McCartney & Youth), Strawberries Oceans Ships Forest, 15 November 1993. And that’s not all — he even found the time to work with producer Youth to create a fascinating and experimental take on ambient techno music, taking bits and snippets from his Off the Ground album and reconstructing them into something completely new. While it’s not for everyone, it’s definitely worth checking out.
Us3, Hand On the Torch, 16 November 1993. Like Guru and his Jazzmatazz project, this was similar in that it was steeped in Blue Note grooviness and laid over hip-hop beats. This one on the other hand is more upbeat and lively. “Cantaloop” was such a huge and unexpected hit that you still hear it to this day.
David Bowie, The Singles Collection, 16 November 1993. I was never the biggest Bowie fan but I eventually warmed to him via this two-record collection, which I bought mainly because it contained pretty much all of his most famous tracks in one place — thanks to the then-recent wave of Rykodisc reissues finally gathering his back catalogue under one roof. I’d often listen to this one on the way home from the job, taking the T back to Copley Square.
Ace of Base, The Sign, released 23 November 1993. Often slagged off as ‘the next-gen ABBA’ (after all, they were from Sweden and were a two-man, two-woman band that sang bubblegummy pop), they were surprisingly catchy and consistent with their output of stellar pop songs. I’d own their first two albums on cd and would throw them on every now and again just for fun.
*
Coming up: End of the year, end of an era, and the start of…something?
A few months into my stay at the Shoebox and it became apparent that I was in the same exact situation I’d been in my freshman year in college back in 1989: no flipping idea what I was doing and no mentor or inspiration to set me off in the right direction, with very little money to do it with. A classic Gen-X situation at the time, really. So I did what I’d always done to date: make it up as I go along and see what inspires me and hope for the best.
I believe it was also around this time that I lost the job at DeLuca’s. The only job I’ve ever been fired from, basically because I’d called out one day to play hooky and visit a friend that I hadn’t seen in ages who was in town. My own damn fault, but the manager really was kind of a moody ass with a tendency to take the nuclear option when he got annoyed. Still — that meant I needed to find a new job VERY QUICKLY and found it a week or so later via the Havard Coop — a chain of book and clothes stores tied in with the university with stores around the Boston area. Somewhat better pay and the possibility of benefits after six months, even if the commute was slightly further away.
Meanwhile, I thought I’d try another attempt at the Infamous War Novel, only this time I thought I’d approach it slightly differently: I’d get rid of the aging Red Dawn influence and try writing something a lot colder and more visceral. Not one in the classic pulp style, but with an ironic nihilistic-yet-hopeful Gen-X touch.
It was at this time that I realized that with my movie rentals from Tower Records, I could finally catch up with my interest in Japanese animation that had been so hard to find in the past. There were some really fun selections — early Urusei Yatsura episodes, the Robotech series, The Venus Wars and Silent Mobius (which I’d seen at the Brattle Theater in Harvard Square a few years previous and loved) — and a lot of duds (horror anime is really effed up, yo)…but it was a fun way to expand my interests and influences.
Then I stumbled upon Gall Force: Eternal Story. A feature-length film with a fascinating science fiction plot that intrigued me: it’s not just a human versus alien war story but one about finding a way to coexist. Despite the hate between the races there is hope. Then I realized — there were sequels to this movie! Several, in fact, but Tower only had the second: Gall Force 2: Destruction, which takes place years later with the two races almost near extinction, and yet there too lies hope.
As I sat there at my fold-out table (which was then in front of that one window) listening to music, drinking instant coffee and smoking my Newports, thinking about how much I enjoyed this series, I had a revelation: what if I rewrite the IWN as a science fiction novel? What if I take the characters and plot ideas I had for the IWN and its outtakes and aborted sequel and place them in a futuristic dystopian setting? And what if I expanded it into a multi-story universe? I really liked the idea: a lone rebel group trying to find peace and balance in time of war. I remembered the words of my scriptwriting teacher who thought the IWN idea was crap (well, it was, but he was also an artiste with one minor credit to his name who hated high concept stories)…and thought fuck his opinion, I’m going to go for it.
And so the Mendaihu Universe was born.
Meanwhile, my listening habits didn’t change much at all.
*
The Wonder Stuff, Construction for the Modern Idiot, released 4 October 1993. This would be their last outing for several years as they went their separate ways, but they bowed out with a fun and energetic record with the great “Full of Life (Happy Now)” single.
The Afghan Whigs, Gentlemen, released 5 October 1993. I remember loving how angry and intense the title track was when I first heard it and picked up the cassette soon after. They’d become a fan and critic favorite for years afterwards.
Mazzy Star, So Tonight That I Might See, released 5 October 1993. You could not escape “Fade Into You” once it came out. It was on TV, in movies, and all over the radio. It’s a song I loved, hated, then loved again, though it’s worth checking out the rest of the record for more of their quiet and brooding sound.
Lloyd Cole, Bad Vibes, released 11 October 1993. I remember hearing “So You’d Like to Save the World” at the Coop job — they had these laserdisc-sized music carts they’d play and one of them had quite a quirky setlist including a track from New Fast Automatic Daffodils. He continues to be a great songwriter to this day.
The Lemonheads, Come On Feel the Lemonheads, 12 October 1993. Also ubiquitous on local radio was “Into Your Arms”, which is pretty much their other famous song that still gets radio play. This album isn’t quite as solid as It’s a Shame About Ray but it is their most radio friendly.
Julee Cruise, The Voice of Love, released 12 October 1993. The follow-up to the creepy-yet-beautiful Floating Into the Night, Cruise’s soft chanteuse voice features more David Lynch-adjacent dreampop.
Luscious Jackson, In Search of Manny EP, released 19 October 1993. Their rap/funk/rock hybrid debut release was so out of place with what was getting played on WFNX that they became fan favorites with “Life of Leisure”, “Let Yourself Get Down” and “Daughters of the Kaos”.
Pearl Jam, vs., released 19 October 1993. Their follow-up to the wildly popular Ten was a moody affair but it’s a brilliant record that shows they’ve evolved into a much tighter and more inspired band. This one’s my favorite of their early releases, and “Elderly Woman” is my top favorite track of theirs. I played this one a lot on my commute to the Coop.
Sarah McLachlan, Fumbling Towards Ecstacy, released 22 October 1993. Her first major breakthrough, a few years before “Angel” and “Adia”, was a tense and gorgeous affair about pain and discomfort and trying to find inner peace.
Crash Test Dummies, God Shuffled His Feet, released 26 October 1993. Yes, that song with that bass-baritone voice. And yet it became a huge hit because of its weirdness. The rest of the record is great fun, though, full of offbeat humor and memorable songcraft. It’s definitely worth checking out the rest of the record!
*
And to share one more picture, the first few important parts of the Mendaihu Universe came together here in the stuffy Charles Street Laundromat during this month. [The storefront has since become a high-end clothing boutique.] As I started playing around with this new approach to this writing project, I realized I could no longer let its universe evolve over time like it did in the past; this was going to need some world building, which was a new process to me. With Ray Bradbury’s Zen in the Art of Writing in hand (I felt that going to my personal source for the initial writing inspiration was the way to go) along with a steno notebook, I sat down while I waited for my loads to finish and started creating. It was also the first time where actively worked on my writing away from a desk or my own room, something that would also become a lifelong habit.
*
Next Up: Cold winters, writing soundtracks and a new day job direction
I’m actually working at the Day Job today (and hoping that it won’t be as ridiculously busy as I fear, considering the holiday). We’ll be back on Thursday!
Walk In Silence 