Filed under: Lists
Since every blogger and their mother’s mother are posting some sort of “Summertime Favorites” list (please, no more Roy Ayers or William DeVaughn, folks - we get it), I’ve decided to painfully date myself and choose ten songs that I must have played non-stop during those summers between years of high school (I graduated in ’96). Growing up in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, I loathed my teenage years of education for the most part, so I have much fonder memories of the summers: the smell of barbeques and freshly cut grass, the stifling humidity during the afternoon, and some of the most amazing sunsets before the orchestra of crickets at dusk. My tastes in music weren’t exactly revolutionary back then, but each of these selections calls to mind a vivid recollection of a time and place during those long, hot days and nights that I’ll never forget. Oops, there’s the nostalgia creeping in – I’ll do my best to curb it somewhat. These songs pertain to the rock/hard rock category and are in no particular order; I was also listening to a lot of metal during these years, but perhaps I’ll save those for another list.
On second thought, maybe not.
“Dog Inside Your Body” – Butthole Surfers 3:06 (Independent Worm Saloon, Capitol 1993)
I could only raise so much hell and mischief without a driver’s license back in ’93, but there’s no doubt that my “discovery” of the Butthole Surfers contributed to my delinquency. I distinctly remember having my mother drive me out to Crossroads CD’s & Tapes for the sole purpose of purging myself of the heinous New Jack R&B and dance cassettes I had amassed over the past few years. The clerk gave me $53 for my garbage, and I purchased two CD’s with it: Radiohead’s Pablo Honey (1993) (what kid wasn’t hooked on the buzzsaw guitar in “Creep”?) and the Buttholes’ Independent Worm Saloon (1993). “Dog Inside Your Body” was one of the most wild and raucous things I had ever heard – just listen to how incredibly badass the guitars sound. Yeah, I know earlier Butthole Surfers is far superior in quality, but I easily listened to this record thousands of times during that summer; I must have found a kindred spirit in its bratty, obnoxious attitude.
“Milquetoast” – Helmet 3:54 (Betty, Interscope 1994)
For a few weeks during the month of June after ninth grade I had to take a Phys Ed summer school course, which consisted of walking around the school property in 98 degree heat, practicing our Beavis & Butthead impersonations, and talking about how kickass The Crow (1994) soundtrack was. Class let out at noon, at which point I would get into my ’84 Camry and drive around the county before I had to be at work in an hour, chain-smoking cigarettes and blaring Betty (1994) out of my tinny car speakers. Though it can’t hold a candle to anything off Strap It On (1990), “Milquetoast” was one of the highlights of the disc, its mashed jazz chords and hip-hop drumming somehow staying afloat in a sea of monstrous heaviness.
“Suicide Machine” – Hum 5:57 (You’d Prefer an Astronaut, RCA 1995)
When You’d Prefer an Astronaut (1995) was released, I made a futile and selfish attempt to keep it all to myself, carefully safeguarding it from my friends who had been corrupted by Candlebox and Stone Temple Pilots. It was useless; “Stars” was inescapable to anyone with a radio, and soon every band in school was covering it for some talent show or underage venue gig. I still adore this band regardless, and the open, sprawling atmosphere of album centerpiece “Suicide Machine” perfectly encapsulates those muggy summer evenings when the air is sticky and sweet with the smell of honeysuckle.
“Phototropic” – Kyuss 5:13 (…And the Circus Leaves Town, Elektra 1995)
The month of August ’95 was a glorious time. Around 5:30 every evening, my brother, my friend Tanner, and myself would load up in the car and drive twenty minutes to the Middle River, where we would spend every evening walking barefoot over the rocks and fishing in the muddy water. Kyuss’ …And the Circus Leaves Town (1995) was our soundtrack for the drive, windows down, blasting out of the back speakers at 110 decibels. I don’t want to digress on this band too much, as I plan on showcasing them in all of their stoned-out, ass-kicking glory in a future post. But I can’t imagine anyone listening to this band in the dead of winter.
“The Bloat” – Melvins 3:40 (Stag, Atlantic 1996)
During the summer after graduation, I worked as the evening produce clerk at a local Food Lion ten miles outside of town, in a tiny globule of dip spit on the map known as Verona, Virginia. I actually rather enjoyed the job; the boss had left for the day by the time I clocked in, and I usually worked alone at my own pace, never hearing any complaints as long as I got my work done. Occasionally I would have Travis, the Camaro-driving frozen food clerk as company, and we would alternate between Soundgarden’s Superunknown (1994) and Melvins’ Stag (1996) on the boombox in the backroom. Travis didn’t really care for most of Stag (admittedly, I remember forcing myself to like a lot of it) but I would always get an enthusiastic “Woo!” out of him when “The Bloat” would come on. Kudos to Atlantic for sticking with the Melvins’ bizarre, near-inaccessible weirdness for three full-lengths in the mid-’90’s.
“Scare Crow” – Ministry 8:21 (Psalm 69, Sire 1992)
The summer heat waves in Virginia can be brutal, and Psalm 69 (1992) was my therapy. “Scarecrow” is the aural equivalent of those 100-degree days when the air is oppressive, visibility is minimal through the haze, and the concrete shimmers in the blazing sun. The chainsaw guitars stick to the skin, the bass drum pulses like a dying heartbeat, and Al Jourgensen’s heroin-nightmare vocals smolder the eardrums like hot embers. To my mother’s horror, I would wear my “Jesus Built My Hotrod” t-shirt at any public opportunity, until she dug it out of my closet one day and started using it as a dust rag. Touché, Mom.
“Tahitian Moon” – Porno for Pyros 3:47 (Good God’s Urge, Warner Bros. 1996)
Good God’s Urge (1996) was another relic from the post-graduation Food Lion era; I used to sit in my car on my dinner breaks and zone out to this record. It was one of those discs that took some time to grow on me, and I remember being initially disappointed at the lack of energy compared to the Porno’s debut, Porno for Pyros (1993). I was inexplicably dating a country girl at the time, and I would try to play “Bali Eyes” during make-outs before she would complain and promptly eject it out of the cassette deck. Our thing didn’t last long.
“Hummer” – Smashing Pumpkins 6:57 (Siamese Dream, Virgin 1993)
I can’t help but cringe at most of the Pumpkins’ music now, but “Hummer” is an exception, a fantastic guitar mini-epic that stands as the best track on Siamese Dream (1993). This song reminds me of early September, on that first day when summer’s heat and humidity pause for a brief teasing glimpse into fall, when the sky is a royal blue and it actually feels comfortable being outside. The last third of the track (at 4:30) is just heavenly – as long as one can ignore Billy Corgan’s “Do you feel/love is real” couplet.
“Born with a Tail” – Supersuckers 3:15 (Sacrilicious, Sub Pop 1995)
This one is slightly embarrassing, but at the time I remember loving it, although I was fooled into thinking that a record titled Sacrilicious (1995) couldn’t be that bad. It was rancid, and “Born with a Tail” was the only decent moment on the disc (it was also the single). Maybe it was the video, a rollicking, hyper-masculine beerfest showing Eddie Spaghetti & Co. thrashing around on the back of a pickup as it roared through the desert in a whirlwind of dust. Fortunately, the band would make amends with Must’ve Been High (1997) a few years later, but I’m still left wondering how impressionable (or high) I must’ve been to fall for this.
“No One Else” – Weezer 3:04 (Weezer, Geffen 1994)
C’mon, it’s Weezer. I don’t think I knew anyone who disliked Weezer (1994) at the time of its release, and no matter how angst-ridden, pissed-off, or doom-and-gloomy you were, this band would still manage to charm and seduce you. I used to crank this in the car on the way to practice with a band in a garage across town, and it was usually the best part of going to rehearsal. In retrospect, it’s the production that’s most notable for me personally, and I don’t think its streamlined, sugary crunch has aged a bit.
