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’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!
The summer was ending and I knew the last thing I wanted to do was move back home, so I had to do some quick thinking: who do I know that can help me get an apartment in Boston? JA of course. He managed to hook me up with the same rental agency that owned the brownstones on Beacon right down the street from Emerson. [This was well before many of them were bought and given some serious renovation and became overpriced condos, mind you.]. By the end of the month I’d found what would become known as The Shoebox Apartment, one building over from where I’d lived with L just over a year previous.
It was going to be hard and I’d be living from paycheck to paycheck, but I stubbornly refused to give up this easily.
The Pogues, “Tuesday Morning” single, released 1 August 1993. Their latest minus their longtime singer Shane MacGowan, this was a radio favorite on WFNX (on Tuesday mornings, natch). KEXP likes to play this on Tuesdays as well!
The Juliana Hatfield Three, Become What You Are, released 3 August 1993. The ex-Blake Babies singer gives herself a slight band name change for her second solo release and has a huge hit with “My Sister” on alternative radio. This was on heavy rotation on both WFNX and WBCN that summer.
Sheryl Crow, Tuesday Night Music Club, 3 August 1993. Sheryl’s debut knocks it out of the park with an interesting blend of blues, alternative rock and maybe even a bit of country, and manages to pop up not only on MTV and VH1 but also WFNX and WBCN and other indie and commercial stations. “All I Wanna Do” ends up getting played everywhere and you still hear it to this day.
Swervedriver, Mezcal Head, 5 August 1993. Another band whose music I loved but never quite got around to purchasing (I had to be extremely picky considering how frequently broke I was), I was always fascinated by their odd blend of PNW grunge and British shoegaze.
The Breeders, Last Splash, released 8 August 1993. Everyone loved the odd and quirky Pod from 1990 but this one was miles better and more radio friendly. You could not escape “Cannonball” even if you tried. There are several other great tracks on here as well, including the boozy ‘Saints”, the bluesy “Do You Love Me Now” and the very Pixies-like “Divine Hammer”. It is indeed a great record.
Paul McCartney, The Paul McCartney Collection wave two, released 16 August 1993. Sir Paul’s next rollout of catalog rereleases focuses on the late 70s-to-late-80s albums that may or may not have seen him at his best but it did contain several of his most memorable singles of the time.
The Sisters of Mercy, A Slight Case of Overbombing: Greatest Hits Volume One, 23 August 1993. At this point the last Sisters of Mercy release (not including the remasters of their three albums from 2006), it also includes their last single to date, the intense and alluring “Under the Gun” featuring Berlin’s Terri Nunn. This one got a lot of play over the next couple of years during my writing sessions.
Nirvana, “Heart Shaped Box” single, released 23 August 1993. Two years on and the famed grunge trio release a new single that feels not only harder and angrier but more desperate. There were several rumors that Kurt was already feeling the strain at this point, and it truly shows in their music of this era.
Cracker, Kerosene Hat, released 24 August 1993. David Lowery’s follow up to their wonderful self-titled debut may not have seen the same popularity, but it did offer the bluesy “Low” single that was indeed a huge hit on both alternative and rock radio, and still gets played on it to this day. There’s also a fun and goofy hidden track on this one called “Euro Trash Girl” that is also a fan favorite.
Unrest, Perfect Teeth, released 24 August 1993. TeenBeat is an interesting indie label in that it’s full of jangly indie pop bands — some twee, some punky — as a sort of response to other indie labels that release the hardest punk ever. Unrest were also signed by 4AD as part of their move towards a new indie sound. They’re one of those wonderful Bands You’ve Never Heard But Should, and this one’s a perfect place to start.
Stereolab, Transient Random-Noise Bursts with Announcements, released 24 August 1993. The band’s second album and the first with a full band (and the first released in the States) features the single “Jenny Ondioline” which got considerable play on alternative radio. They’re definitely in a field of their own, but they’ve attracted a major fanbase from the beginning.
Eve’s Plum, Envy, released 31 August 1993. A band named after the actor who played Jan Brady, their lead singer was one Colleen Fitzpatrick, who was not only an actor herself (she played Amber Von Tussle in John Waters’ Hairspray) but would also release glossy pop gems in the late 90s as Vitamin C. This first of two albums of their short career are definitely worth checking out for their blissfully perky alt-rock.
*
Next up: the Shoebox, the bad habits and terrible decisions, and a sudden change of employment
The very last class and exam I took for my school years was for my French class. I’d unfortunately learned a bit too late that my brain doesn’t process foreign languages correctly (I can understand them just fine once I learn them, but I can’t speak them without my brain stuttering to a halt to translate), but somehow I’d managed to just about pass it, thus giving me the points I needed to get a Bachelor of Arts degree. I handed in the test when I was done and celebrated my newfound freedom across the street by taking a seat at the Wall (more like a curb, the student gathering spot in front of 130 Beacon) and having a cigarette.
To be honest, I was kind of hoping I’d feel that freedom, but I felt the opposite: now what the hell do I do? In the words of Dave Sim, it was less of a grand finale and more of a grand finally. That’s when it all kicked in: Day One of adulthood. Now that I didn’t have school to distract me, it was time to start figuring things out.
Easier said than done, of course.
New Order, Republic, released 3 May 1993. It had been a surprisingly long number of years between albums for this group, considering they all went their separate ways to work on solo projects (Electronic, Revenge and the endearingly-named The Other Two). They came back stronger than ever with an album considered one of their best.
Blur, Modern Life Is Rubbish, released 10 May 1993. This is one of my top favorite Blur albums for many reasons. They’ve moved beyond the heady Madchester grooves of their first album and headed towards more introspective and observational themes. There are a lot of Gen-X moods going on here: poverty, emotional distraction, avoidance and ironic humor. This one has some wonderful tracks on it and I still listen to it now and again.
Aimee Mann, Whatever, released 11 May 1993. After the break-up of Til Tuesday in 1990, Mann was unable to contractually release anything for another couple of years, but the end result was a fine solo debut of sunny alternapop that proved she was still a fine songwriter. She may not have been a Boston local any longer, but WFNX played this one a ton just the same.
Wire, 1985-1990: The A List, released 18 May 1993. One of the first (of sadly far too many) albums I bought when I first got a credit card (this and the This Mortal Coil box), I knew this would get a ton of play on my headphones, considering they were — and still are — one of my all-time favorite bands. This one’s a ‘football roster’ mix of fan favorites, with “Ahead” in the obvious top spot. It’s a great collection and a great place to start if you’re curious about their mid-era sound.
The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Don’t Know How to Party, released 18 May 1993. Their third album was their first on a major label, it feels a bit more laid back than their usual hard-driving ska-core sound, but at the same time that helped become a great summer record for the Boston area.
Guru, Jazzmatazz, Vol 1, released 18 May 1993. Somehow I never got around to adding this (and its several later volumes) to my collection, but I do of course remember it getting all kinds of attention from both critics and fans. While the mix of jazz and rap wasn’t entirely a brand new thing by then, this album gave it a fresh new sound with its Blue Note-inspired jazz sounds — a live band instead of samples — blending perfectly with the chill rap delivery. Highly recommended.
Aztec Camera, Dreamland, released 23 May 1993. Roddy Frame’s return after a lengthy break (1990’s Stray was the previous record) had him sounding less indie/folky and more streamlined pop, but that wasn’t necessarily a band thing considering his penchant for writing wonderful songs. “Dream Sweet Dreams” is a lovely track that got a lot of play on WFNX that summer.
The Waterboys, Dream Harder, released 25 May 1993. Mike Scott’s next record was similar to 1990’s Room to Roam in that it was full of energy, but the main difference here was that the band’s sound on this one veered more towards straight alternative rock, sans the usual Irish folk influence. It would end up being the last Waterboys release for a number of years as he focused on his own solo work.
By April of 1993 I realized that this was going to be the very last semester of any schooling I’d ever attend. I had no plans or reasons to look into graduate school, having finally admitted to myself that I’m more of a ‘learn by experience’ student than a ‘learn by theory and text’ student. I’d always been turned off by the idea of theoretical dissection and debate; it did nothing for me because that wasn’t how my brain worked. Mine always went in the opposite direction: I loved how things fit together. This meant that these were going to be the last exams, the last term papers, the last final projects I’d ever be dealing with, and I really liked the idea of that.
Mind you, this also meant that my road ahead was going to be hard, often lonely, and with a lot of fuck-ups along the way. I wasn’t looking forward to that, but I at least knew that was coming. I prepared myself by thinking ahead: I knew I wanted to be a writer, so that was what I was going to need to focus on most.
It would take quite a long time, but I’d get it soon enough.
*
Guided By Voices, The Grand Hour EP and Vampire On Titus, released 1 April 1993. I actually knew about this band early on as one of those beloved by the critics and DJs in the know but rarely ever found in smaller record stores. I believe I’d heard “Shocker in Gloomtown” on WZBC (Boston College’s station) and maybe on WFNX one late evening.
David Bowie, Black Tie White Noise, released 5 April 1993. “Jump They Say” was a big favorite on WFNX at the time, as this was his first post-Tin Machine record under his own name again. It’s a very polished-sounding album and maybe not my favorite of his, but there are quite a few good tracks on it.
Sugar, Beaster EP, released 6 April 1993. After the brilliant Copper Blue, Bob Mould released a hard and fast six-track mini LP that melded the melodic parts of this new band of his with the noise of his previous band Husker Du. The end result is blistering and noisy fun.
Tool, Undertow, released 6 April 1993. I don’t think there was any band that sounded quite like this at the time: the heaviness of grunge, the headiness of prog, and the nihilism of metal, and somehow capturing the attention of countless critics and fans. Even the bizarreness of the video for “Sober” earned it heavy rotation on MTV at the time. More to the point, they even got my attention and they totally weren’t a band I’d actively listen to.
His Name Is Alive, Mouty By Mouth, released 13 April 1993. It took me a while to get where this band was going with their music and why they were on the revered 4AD label, as they felt more like outsider indie folk than anything else. But every now and again they’d have a song (like the above) that I really enjoyed.
Sarah Brightman, Dive, released 20 April 1993. Now this album was totally against type for me: I’d heard “Captain Nemo” on WFNX of all places one night and I was kind of fascinated by it…it had that dreamlike cinematic feel that would fit right in with my style of writing. I bought this one at Tower on cassette not knowing she was a well-known stage singer looking to pivot into pop, and I found myself really liking it. I’d play this one a lot on my headphones if I was heading somewhere on the T.
Midnight Oil, Earth and Sun and Moon, released 20 April 1993. I’d heard this one later in the summer of that year when I worked at DeLuca’s Market on Charles Street; one of the managers threw the album on after closing when we were cleaning up. I instantly fell in love with the track “Outbreak of Love” and ran out and bought it at Tower the next day!
World Party, Bang!, released 26 April 1993. Karl Wallinger’s output has always been consistently great (and he’s a super nice guy too, as I’d met him years later at Amoeba here in SF some years back). Pretty much everything he’s put out has been a mix of catchy pop and quirky indie rock.
PJ Harvey, Rid of Me, released 26 April 1993. The indie kids loved her records, and so did WFNX, because she was so hard to pin down into one genre. She could be sexy, confrontational, discomforting and funny, sometimes within the span of the same song. Her early albums are definitely worth checking out, and she’s about to release a new one very soon!
The Posies, Frosting On the Beater, released 27 April 1993. A jangly indie pop band that the critics loved, I’d hear the wonderfully shimmering “Flavor of the Month” on WFNX all the time and it became one of my favorite summer songs that year.
Porno for Pyros, Porno for Pyros, released 27 April 1993. Perry Farrell’s return to music after Jane’s Addiction’s implosion (and focusing on running Lollapalooza, which was still a traveling show at the time) was a more down-tempo record but featured some of his best work, including the ubiquitous single “Pets”.
Brad, Shame, released 27 April 1993. This was an interesting group in that it was essentially several musician friends from the Seattle area getting together to occasionally record and release music that didn’t quite fit the sounds of their own bands. This was also one of many groups headed by Seattleite Shawn Smith, who would pop up all over the place over the next several years.
If I learned anything about filmmaking at Emerson, it’s that I didn’t think I was going to be good at it. In fact, I was kind of terrible! I certainly had the images of what I wanted to see in my head, but there was no way I’d be able to follow through if I’d kept digging at it…especially since I’d also realized that I really wasn’t the best at networking, let alone knowing anyone who’d be interested in following through with my crazy ideas. After an extremely frustrating and unhelpful talk with my student advisor, I stepped back and realized, what is my strength here anyway, if it’s not making film?
Well, duh.
It’s writing.
So for the last couple of semesters at Emerson, I took screenwriting classes, and that was the best damn decision I’d made in my college years. It prepared me for the long haul: this was going to be a solo endeavor, and I’d be starting from the bottom, but it taught me how to get those images in my head on paper in a more coherent way. I finally knew exactly what I wanted to do as a career.
The Cranberries, Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?, released 1 March 1993. It took me a little while to warm up to this band, but when I did I loved “Linger”. The opening segment of the song to me evokes a kind of waking up. You still hear this and “Dreams” on alternative radio these days.
Living Colour, Stain, released 2 March 1993. This band’s third album before their split didn’t sell as much as the previous two, and I think it’s because this was a bit of a serious record, actually kind of an angry one. However, it’s got some really great tunes on it, well worth listening.
The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Ska-Core, the Devil and More EP, released 8 March 1993. Our favorite local ska-core boys dropped this record with “Someday I Suppose” as its lead track (it would show up on their new full-length in a few months), which got play on pretty much all the Boston rock stations.
The Beloved, Conscience, released 9 March 1993. This band finally followed up their fantastic debut with an even sleeker beat-driven dance record, and it’s just as lovely. I really dug the single “Sweet Harmony” at the time.
Frank Black, Frank Black, released 9 March 1993. The then-ex-Pixies singer’s debut was part of what seemed to be a giant flourish of new 4AD records (alongside Belly, The Breeders, and more) that featured the label’s newer, fresher sound. Frank is still the consummate weirdo here, just like with his previous band, but there’s also a bit of retro punk to it as well.
311, Music, released 9 March 1993. This was the record that introduced me to this band, and it’s much funkier and jammier than what we’d come to know them by. I had “Freak Out” as a breakout song on the WECB playlist for a while. I’m still a fan to this day.
The Judybats, Pain Makes You Beautiful, released 9 March 1993. This band never quite got the attention it deserved, partly because they didn’t quite fit the popular mold at the time, though WFNX did give them a bit of play during the years they were together. This third record is by far my favorite: it’s got so many gorgeous songs like “Being Simple” balanced by nutty humor like “Incredible Bittersweet”. Bonus points too for being recorded at Long View Farm, which was a studio in North Brookfield MA, just outside of Worcester!
Saint Etienne, So Tough, released 9 March 1993. I knew them from their previous record Foxbase Alpha (which had the groovy cover of Neil Young’s “Only Love Can Break Your Heart”), but this one became a favorite of mine partly due to the above song and its amazing ability to perfectly capture retro 60s UK Northern Soul. I still pick up their records, and member Bob Stanley is also an amazing music biographer whose books you should definitely check out.
Sting, Ten Summoner’s Tales, released 9 March 1993. I never followed Sting’s solo career all that closely though he did have several singles I liked. This is probably my second favorite album of his (Nothing Like the Sun gets the top spot), and I’ve always liked the above lead single. I did get to see him on this tour later on in the year.
Depeche Mode, Songs of Faith and Devotion, released 22 March 1993. This was such a polarizing album when it came out! It definitely wasn’t Violator, that’s for sure. The obvious theme throughout it is indeed faith and devotion, whether spiritual or personal. It’s a very dense and sometimes angry record, but I fell in love with it immediately.
PM Dawn, The Bliss Album…? (Vibrations of Love and Anger and the Ponderance of Life and Existence), released 23 March 1993. I didn’t pick this one up right away, but I’ve always loved this duo as well. This one proved that they weren’t just a one-hit wonder and could write some amazing stuff.
The Pursuit of Happiness, The Downward Road, released 23 March 1993. This band had fallen into semi-obscurity after 1988’s Love Junk and its silly “I’m an Adult Now”, but I really enjoyed this one.
The London Suede, Suede, released 29 March 1993. This band actually kind of turned me off at first when their first singles dropped — I thought they were a bit too glammy for my tastes — but something told me to pick up this debut record, and it ended up being one of my favorites of the year! While most other Britpop bands of the time wore their 60s inspiration (or their 80s drugs) on their sleeves, this one said ‘we’re going to be the bastard son of 70s Bowie and T Rex’ and pulled it off brilliantly. Highly recommended.
This Mortal Coil, 1983-1991, released 30 March 1993. A collective that deeply inspired my writing over several years. It took me a few months to get around to picking this up, but it was well worth it: a collection of TMC’s three records, plus a fourth disc of the originals they’d covered on them. This box set would get a ton of play over the years until it was finally replaced by the self-titled 2011 box.
Walk In Silence 