The mind is elastic, as they say. Sometimes you end up misremembering things, or you’re absolutely certain something happened in this order when it actually happened differently. If you look at the timestamp I wrote on the very first page of The Phoenix Effect, it says 3/7/97, 10:30pm. I almost always timestamped my longhand work, something I’ve done since the early days of the Infamous War Novel back in 1984, so it’s not as if I was making it up. Now, this goes completely against my firm belief that I started writing that novel in the food court at Solomon Pond Mall before my shift started.
Now, maybe I did, and the first attempt is full of scratch-outs and mistakes, and later on that evening I started over. Or maybe I actually did start writing it that evening and then started writing in the food court thereafter. Either way, it’s almost thirty years ago and unless I have any other notes, I’ll have to guess that it’s one of those because it’s all a bit fuzzy now.
ANYWAY! The important thing here is that I started a new novel in March of 1997 after finally deciding to trunk True Faith once and for all, and my aim here was to see if I could pull it off. I hadn’t completed a novel in years, and I was getting frustrated with myself for having all these unfinished and abandoned ideas gathering dust in crates in the boiler room in the basement. I still wanted to write this futuristic sci-fi idea, this spark that had appeared in 1993 and had never gone out. And now I had the time, a clear mind, a steady job and a computer to work on it.
Next thing was to start amassing the soundtrack I’d be listening to while writing it.
U2, Pop, released 3 March 1997. I remember the PolyGram Distribution rep being extremely let down by this album and really not doing much at all to push it to my boss Tom. U2 had become a band where you expected excellence and ever-increasing originality with every album, and that never works with any band at all. Me, however? I loved it! Sure, it’s not as grandiose as Achtung Baby or intriguing as Zooropa, and even the band members themselves admit that it’s a rushed project that should have had more time spent on it (they had to rush as another ridiculously huge tour was on the horizon). Personally I think this is when the “it’s cool to hate U2” really started. Regardless, I played the hell out of my promo copy over several years while writing not only TPE but the entire trilogy. On it’s own it’s full of fascinating sonic experimentation and intense lyricism. It wouldn’t have worked as a grandiose statement, and I think that bothered a lot of people.
Guster, Goldfly, released 4 March 1997. Local boys done good! This Somerville band was a fan favorite in the Boston area with their quirky sound (and their stick-less drummer), and the creepy yet catchy “Airport Song” was an immediate favorite on WFNX and WBCN and other MA stations. This was also their first major release after self-releasing their debut. They’re still going strong to this day.
Collective Soul, Disciplined Breakdown, released 11 March 1997. I’ll admit I’ve always been a fan of this band since hearing “Shine” back in 1993, and while they didn’t quite hit the same heights as their huge-selling self-titled album, they continued to release some really great music that I often came back to. They’re definitely part of that style I like to call ‘commercialternative’ (modern rock that’s easy on the ears and often played on your more adventurous AOR station — and I say this as a positive), but I’ve never gotten sick of them. And they just dropped a new album last week!
The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Let’s Face It, released 11 March 1997. This album was a major breakthrough for them, as they fit in quite nicely with the ska-punk wave that was cresting right about this time (see also: Reel Big Fish, Goldfinger, Less Than Jake, and so on). “The Impression That I Get” was written to honor a friend who’d sadly been a victim of an abortion clinic shooting in Boston back in 1995 — I remember that happening as it took place just a few miles away from my apartment — and ended up being a big hit for them. It’s also a great album celebrating the Bay State, with a song about the sketchy-as-f*ck Mayor Curley (“The Rascal King”) and the local interstate (“1-2-8”).
Morphine, Like Swimming, released 11 March 1997. Alas, their last album before singer Mark Sandman passed away. They’re another local favorite that got a ton of play on WFNX and WBCN, and the catchy and amusing “Early to Bed” was a big favorite.
Soundtrack, Grosse Pointe Blank, released 13 March 1997. An oddball dark comedy with John Cusack and featuring a Gen-X friendly soundtrack of 80s college radio faves? It was a major favorite with my generation, and the soundtrack was a big hit that spring. It definitely helped that Violent Femmes’ “Blister in the Sun” was the big classic used multiple times in the film, giving the band a much needed boost. This one of course got a lot of play in the back room of the store.
Ben Folds Five, Whatever and Ever Amen, released 18 March 1997. When your debut album is so quirky yet brilliantly written, you kind of wonder how you can ever top it. Their follow-up does indeed feel a bit jaded in that classic Gen-X way — so much so that “The Battle of Who Could Care Less” perfectly encapsulates it while also being a radio favorite at the time. The unexpected hit from this one, of course, is the heart-rending ballad “Brick”.
Matthew Sweet, Blue Sky On Mars, released 25 March 1997. While his 1995 album 100% Fun got some minor play, it was this follow-up that gave him that extra added boost with a much more stylized and slightly psychedelic sound that made it a favorite on AOR stations.
Soundtrack, The Saint, released 25 March 1997. Val Kilmer’s reboot of the old Roger Moore TV show was surprisingly enjoyable even though it wasn’t the biggest hit. Like most action films of the late 90s, its soundtrack is full of twitchy electronica from Orbital, Underworld, Fluke, Sneaker Pimps and more.
Goldfinger, Hang-Ups, released 26 March 1997. I remember hearing “This Lonely Place” on WFNX quite a bit during my commute home from the store, and I grew to really like this perky and sunny track. They’re still around and released a new album early this year!
Third Eye Blind, Third Eye Blind, released 26 March 1997. Say what you will about this band and album (and those three singles you could not escape from over the next few years), I actually really liked this album because it showed that they weren’t just a one hit wonder. There are a lot of interesting deep cuts here including the opener and minor single “Losing a Whole Year” which I always liked. And now I can consider them a local band, heh.
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Coming up: In which I start listening to pretty much everything that comes through the back room at the record store.