* In alphabetical order. Cringe factor is in the red on the some of these. Please don't judge us.
1. Kelly Clarkson
2. The (Dixie) Chicks
3. The Doors
4. Explosions in the Sky
5. Heart
6. Don Henley
7. Ivy
8. Madonna
9. Alanis Morissette
10. Van Halen
5.04.2024
Ten Musical Artists We've Been Obsessed with at One Point *
1.15.2024
The 1990s Songs We Still Tolerate
The 1990s provided, as they say, "formative years" for the Cheese Fry as we navigated and fumbled our way through our 20s and early 30s - college (and grad school), first serious girlfriend, first jobs, apartment renting and roommates, moving to Los Angeles, driving for hours a week in Los Angeles traffic dialed into KROQ, KISS, and/or Star 98.
Today, "90s on 9" is a pre-set channel on our SiriusXM radio and often transports us back to an oddly specific memory from our storied past. It's like an aural time machine. That said, some of those 1990s songs make us cringe, roll our eyes, and click to another channel. Some songs really should stay unsung.
Which recently made us wonder... which of the most popular songs of the 1990s stand up today? Which ones remain timeless bangers and which ones have unexpectedly aged poorly and should be deep-sixed for the good of mankind?
For the record, accessing Billboard's official online list of the most popular songs of the 1990s requires a subscription, so we can't verify the accuracy of the free list we found plus we stipulate that how Billboard tracked popular music underwent a lot of changes during this period so the definitive list of 1990s hits is probably full of exceptions and asterisks. But for the purposes of this informal study we'll accept it.
The Bangers - popular 1990s songs we'd listen to again right now
* The Sign (ranked #11 on the all-time 1990s list), Ace of Base
* Waterfalls (#19), TLC
* Take a Bow (#24), Madonna
* Believe (#31), Cher
* No Scrubs (#33), TLC
* Livin La Vida Loca (#38), Ricky Martin
* Smooth (#41), Santana and Rob Thomas
* Stay (#94), Lisa Loeb
* Save the Best for Last (#47), Vanessa Williams
* Another Night (#51), Real McCoy
* Nobody Knows (#61), Tony Rich Project
* I Love You Always Forever (#71), Donna Lewis
* Unpretty (#76), TLC
* Baby One More Time (#78), Britney Spears
* Nothing Compares 2 U (#82), Sinead O'Connor
* Quit Playing Games (with My Heart) (#86), Backstreet Boys
* Hypnotize (#88), Notorious B.I.G.
* California Love (#97), 2Pac
* Return of the Mack (#100), Mark Morrison
Guess we were bigger TLC fans than we realized. Of that list, without question the most finely-crafted, perfectly realized pop song is "Livin La Vida Loca." And there is very little traditional verse/chorus pattern to "Stay" but we know every word. Kudos also to the crunchy hooks of "California Love" and "Hypnotize" for making white people think they were hip hop fans.
The Outcasts - popular 1990s song we never, ever want to hear again
* Macarena (#2), Los Del Rio
* I Will Always Love You (#7), Whitney Houston
* I Swear (#9), All 4 One
* Because You Loved Me (#18), Celine Dion
* Can't Help Falling in Love (#22), UB40
* (Everything I Do) I Do It for You (#37), Bryan Adams
* Black or White (#39), Michael Jackson
* Whoomp! There It Is (#44), Tag Team
* Here Comes the Hotstepper (#65), Ini Kamoze
* I'm Too Sexy (#79), Right Said Fred
No real surprise here. Cheap, awful novelty songs ("Macarena" and "Whoomp!" and "I'm Too Sexy") were barely tolerable when they were new. For us, there's really no Celine Dion song worth a listen - it's all too bombastic and syrupy and "look at how dramatic I can sing" self-aware. As for "I Will Always Love You," that was ruined for us by endless radio play. And UB40 holds a special place of irritation in our hearts - they provided not one, but two terrible and unlistenable fake reggae disasters: "Can't Help Falling in Love" and "Red Red Wine."
6.17.2023
An Ode to Sound Warehouse
It's a shame Cheese Fry offspring won't ever experience aimless strolls along the aisles of a music store. Those stores - Sound Warehouse, Hit Records on Forest Lane, Musicland (or was it Sam Goody?) in the local malls - played a big part of our coming of age, usually experienced with friends apart from parents. We always felt older and more sophisticated somehow going in those stores. Well into our 20s, in fact, we were still taking frequent spins through the Wherehouse at the Beverly Connection to check out the sales bins or the Virgin Megastore on Sunset that had this amazing innovation of providing samples of tracks from the week's top ten albums by just putting on one of the headphones lined along the back wall.
As we all know, the digitization and iTunes-ification of the music industry slowly but surely drove those stores out of business. There are music sections in stores like Target or Barnes and Noble, sure, but those are sanitized facsimiles of the brash, sprawling, neon stores of the past. Young people now don't even own physical media. Their songs are bits and bytes in a Spotify playlist, a trend we admit that's completely infected us as well. Our background music now mostly comes courtesy of Sirius XM with an embarrassing lean towards 80s and 90s. We can't even remember the last time we bought a CD and that's coming from someone who - much like you, we guess - were once the proud owners of a CD tower packed with the coolest artists only. (Side note: to whoever stole our Toad the Wet Sprocket CD during one of our 1993 apartment parties, a pox on your house. Of all the CDs to choose from, that's the one you picked?)
The Sound Warehouse by Bachman Lake - and later, when we didn't dare run the risk of being seen by friends with our father, the Sound Warehouse out by the late, great Valley View Mall - was to our teenaged brain an oasis of coolness. We couldn't shake a feeling of being an outsider walking through those doors, as if the other customers knew weren't trendy enough to enter their world. It was always exciting, like walking into a real-world version of MTV. The music blasting, playing the latest release by some popular artist - or even better, some obscure artist who hadn't yet "sold out." The grungy employees who seemed so impossibly hip and bored we didn't dare ask a question for fear of a painfully dismissive eye roll. The band posters and flyers covering every wall. But most of all, there were the endless options. Rows and rows of LPs to flip through like alphabetized card catalogs, all of it organized by genre. Rock here, country there, soundtracks back over here. It was organized and yet also somehow sloppy and overwhelming. You didn't have to buy anything. Part of the fun was just looking at the album covers and reading the song lists, debating which item was worth your gas mowing money. It was a whole process. And get this, Zoomers, you could only buy whatever was in stock. (In theory, yes, you could have the store order something for you but we never did that.)
During our early middle school and high school years, our focus was cassette tapes because they played in our bedroom (dual) cassette deck and our 1979 Ford Granada. The music stores of the 1980s had endless shelves full of cassette tapes stacked like gold bars in Fort Knox, all of them in that distinctive crinkly shrink wrap. The less we say about our brief foray into the Columbia Music House record club - ten cassettes for only $1! - the better. And then somewhere along the way we discovered the 45 single. Friends liked to make fun of our fixation with top 40 pop radio hits. So instead of spending $9 for a cassette to get one radio song, why not spend $2 for a little 45 record with just that one song? That there is smart economics. We ultimately ended up with the equivalent of about three shoe boxes worth of 45s and recently converted a good chunk into MP3s. For the record, about 10% were too scratched to transfer and another 10% or so deemed by us to fall into the "what were we thinking?" category and unworthy of preserving. Our collection offered an unexpected cross-section of the rise and fall of 45s: lots and lots of 80s hits and a few early 90s ones through about 1992 or so which coincided with the industry's shift to cassingles. That was actually the name of them. We bought a few of those, sure, but soon the record companies realized they'd make more money making us buy the whole CD.
For the record, our first cassette purchase was a three-fer: The Police's Synchronicity, The Cars' Heartbeat City, and Huey Lewis and the News' Sports. Pretty sure the first CDs we bought alongside the sleek badass CD player we got for Christmas one year were Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation 1814 and Milli Vanilli's Girl You Know It's True (they were fakes, but those are solid songs, people).
6.27.2013
20 years of radio in the summertime
1.19.2013
Top ten 1980s all-slow-dance prom DJ playlist
The Bangles, "Eternal Flame"
Richard Marx, "Endless Summer Nights"
Phil Collins, "Groovy Kind of Love"
INXS, "Never Tear Us Apart"
Vanessa Williams, "Dreamin"
Peter Cetera and Amy Grant, "The Next Time I Fall"
Breathe, "How Can I Fall"
Bon Jovi, "Never Say Goodbye"
Deion Estes, "Heaven Help Me"
We're not proud of it, but it is what it was.
5.06.2012
Cassette tape rewind: freshman summer
Here's the top ten songs this week 26 years ago.
1. Robert Palmer, "Addicted to Love" - Played to death at the time, both on the radio and in double-super-heavy rotation on MTV, this song has become shorthand for mid-80s pop. The lyrics can be repetitive, but the grinding guitars and whap-whap-whap of the drums make it imminently enjoyable. And for a 14-year-old, that video of sleek, barely-dressed women wearing bright red wet lipstick was fascinating on a number of levels.
2. Pet Shop Boys, "West End Girls" - We respect the artistry of this song and the lush Yamaha-keyboard mood, but it's rather dour. And full of too many esoteric lyrics that likely only make sense if you know England. It hasn't aged very well.
3. Prince and the Revolution, "Kiss" - Hated it then, hate it now. Our pathetic school bus driver (she once decided not to drive her bus in the ice, but didn't tell anyone that was her plan so all of us kids were stranded in the freezing cold on our bus stop corners) always broadcast from her crap plastic Radio Shack transistor radio some local adult-contemporary station and, we kid you not, they played "Kiss" every single damn morning.
4. Van Halen, "Why Can't This Be Love" - 1984 was one of the first three cassette tapes we ever bought (other two: Huey Lewis and the News, Sports and The Police, Synchronicity - the more you know...). We wore that thing out, playing it over and over. While at the time we loved "Jump" now it's very clear to us the best song is "Panama." So the departure of singer David Lee Roth was a worrisome development in the Cheese Fry's childhood home. This single was the first one off the new Van Halen album 5150 featuring replacement singer Sammy Hagar. It sounds like a Van Halen song, but then again it also sounds completely different. Clearly, they had us with the opening weeee-eeee-ahhh bent guitar chord.
5. The Rolling Stones, "Harlem Shuffle" - We suspect this is rather humiliating for them, don't you think? "Sympathy for the Devil," it ain't.
6. Janet Jackson, "What Have You Done for Me Lately" - Remember when Janet - Ms. Jackson if you're nasty - was a legitimate music force cranking out these kinds of sexy, angry dance songs (unless they were slower, softer, more introspective ballads like "Let's Wait Awhile")? This was one of several hits from her breakout album - remember when we called them albums? - Control. It is definitely a time-travel song. Hear it and you're instantly transported to the rundown 1981 hatchback you rode in during a secret lunch run, crowded full of fellow freshman.
7. Whitney Houston, "Greatest Love of All" - We're not afraid to admit that there are a great many Whitney Houston songs out there that we really like. This is not one of them. A textbook example of the kind of sappy, melodramatic cheese danish that was so very popular back before things like SoundScan started keeping track of what people actually liked and bought, not what record stores and music labels pushed on the public. Gag us.
8. Outfield, "Your Love" - All together now: "Josie's on a vacation far away..." One of the best pop songs ever recorded. Seriously. The end.
9. Phil Collins, "Take Me Home" - Another of the many hit singles from the Phil Collins juggernaut album No Jacket Required (we have a guilty-pleasure soft spot for the brassy "Sussudio"). We always liked the jingle-jangle synthesized background and the chorus has a nice soar to it. But like so many Collins songs, it overstays its welcome by several minutes before that slow, slow fade-out.
10. The Bangles, "Manic Monday" - It's hard to fathom any 1980s teenage boy in American not having a crush on at least one of the Bangles. Flirty singer Susanna Hoffs was the popular one, sure but we liked to go against the grain so our favorite was guitarist Vicki Peterson. This is by far their biggest hit, imminently sing-a-long-able, and very much a child of the 80s, famously written by Prince (see #3 above). It's sunny and peppy and wry, but we prefer the darker "Hazy Shade of Winter."
P.S. Will our kids think of the Bangles or Robert Palmer the same dusty, distant way we think of the Beatles and Elvis from our parents' generation? Egad.