Most people who know me would agree: I am obsessed with the
popular music of 1994. In truth, if one
were to make a graphical representation of my musical tastes, it would resemble
an unevenly drawn target, with 1994 as the bulls-eye in dead center, with 1993
and 1995 being right beside it on both sides as runners-up, and other years
radiating out in thinner and thinner circles, but more to the left (or
pre-1994) and to the right (after 1994).
It is the benchmark by which other music I hear is judged and evaluated
against. I have affinities for other
eras, notably the early roots of rock from the 1950s and 1960s, and the
emerging heavy rock of the early 1970s, as well as New Wave of the 1980s, but
for me 1994 remains a touchstone, and likely will until the day I cease to be. The 20th anniversary of that year
compelled me to make this, mostly because I figured if I lived another 20 years
I might not remember some of the details of how I came to like or discover
certain things, and I suppose 20 years is significant enough to warrant an
effort like this one.
The list of albums from that time is a long one indeed, even
when one focuses on just the most popular releases from the most famous
bands. Indeed much of the music from
then is woven into my memories of that time, even if it is music I didn’t like
at the time and still do not like now.
But there are several albums that I feel like I need to share and
discuss here, if only to further cement and explain my particular affection for
the year 1994 and its music. Presented
here, in no order except for a “top three” that I will save for the end, is my
list:
Honorable mention: Dumb
and Dumber: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
I know, I know, this is not actually “an album” per se. But I have to at least mention it here
because it is a particularly good soundtrack, which in turn spun more than one
song into poplar radio singles. I cannot
think of the year 1994 or this era of music without such songs as “The Bear
Song” by Green Jelly, or “New Age Girl” by Deadeye Dick, or even “If You Don’t
Love Me (I’ll Kill Myself)” by Pete Droge being a part of my memories. And those are just the best of the songs on
here. There are about two or three dud
songs to skip but as a soundtrack, this might be one of the best ones out
there. Fact: in the 90s the Farrelly
Brothers movies always had good soundtracks (see also: Kingpin, There’s
Something About Mary).
Live – Throwing Copper
I first heard this album at my friend Bryan’s house. His older brother played it on the family
stereo system on the good speakers and I was hooked instantly to the hard edged
riffs and groovy rhythms. It would be
many years before I actually paid enough attention to some of the lyrics to see
how infatuated they were with Jesus, but that didn’t matter to twelve-year-old
me. All I knew was that this album
rocked, especially considering tracks like “All Over You,” “I Alone,” “Top” and
“Selling the Drama.” Really there are no
bad songs on the entire album, from the slow building to a hard rocking “The
Dam at Otter Creek” to the slow and slightly dreamy “Horse” which is a hidden
track at the end. This album, needless
to say, was in heavy rotation in my stereo system.
Offspring – Smash
This album, silly as it may sound, was extremely formative
for me! This was, you guessed it, my
first ever “bad” CD. I mean it had a
picture of a skeleton on the front with the word SMASH emblazoned across in
big, red letters. It looked and sounded
like it was written, recorded and packaged in someone’s garage. One of the songs (“Bad Habit”) talked about
“wrecking this fucker’s ride” and “Stupid, dumbshit goddamn motherfuckers”
really loudly. The band itself seemed,
at times, to be louder than the recording equipment could handle. The entire album rocked with a punk-like
intensity (appropriate for a nominal punk band from Los Angeles) but showed
some rock and grungy tendencies typical of the era also, which may explain why
it was hugely successful and went on to sell 11 million copies, making it one
of the most successful independent releases of all time. But for me, songs like “Gotta Get Away,”
“Come Out and Play” and especially “Self Esteem” remain as an integral part of
me and one of the main strings attaching me still to 1994 and that summer. “Self Esteem” in particular was a sort of
theme song for me all through seventh grade, and the entire album was so unlike
anything else I had listened to before, it opened my mind even more to other
types of music and served to rock the Genesis/Phil Collins stuff out of my head
(although not completely). There is
plenty of substance to be found, even if it is a bit obvious at times. “Come Out And Play” was a screed against
school violence and “Not the One” was a declaration that Gen-X’ers did not
create all the problems of the world and served as a sort of “fuck you” to
those who would hurl the word “slackers” them.
“Genocide,” and “It’ll Be a Long Time” were written as indictments of
the military industrial complex. “What
Happened to You?” was a warning about overindulgence in drugs. It just goes to show that not all punk music
is just about sex and rock’n’roll.
The Cranberries – No
Need to Argue
This album really is amazing, and it stretched my musical
tastes out a bit also, as it was one of the first albums I did not totally like
at first listen, but grew to like more and more over time. I bought this album for the same reason most
people did in 1994: the smash lead single “Zombie” which paints a somber
picture of “The Troubles” in Northern Ireland and howls with a certain
confrontational heaviness, especially in light of Dolores O’Riordan’s fairly
unique vocals. It’s meant to be a sad
song, but it’s both so well written and so catchy that it became a hit and made
girls everywhere wish they could sing like Dolores. But this album is no one trick pony, with
other very excellent tracks like “Ridiculous Thoughts,” “Daffodil Lament,” “The
Icicle Melts” and the opener “Ode to My Family.” The craft and skill of the band, and
especially the vocals, are evident throughout and there are really no bad songs
to be found. I found I was more into
each song the more times I heard it, and after a while I could be found playing
this album front to back in my room if I felt like sitting and reading, getting
work done or just thinking and contemplating life. This is definitely a good all-purpose album
and a fine addition to anyone’s collection.
Hole – Live Through
This
I’ll be honest and say I never owned this album, and indeed
have never owned any Hole album in my life.
But I remember the first time I heard “Violet” crash through my speakers
extremely well. It fit right into what
was going on musically at the time, which is probably why allegations that
Courtney Love’s famous husband (Kurt Cobain if you need him) ghostwrote some or
all of the album dog her to this day.
But it was definitely a statement album, and “Violet” was the perfect,
screaming, angst-filled anthem for its time.
“Doll Parts,” while a slower song, is in the same sonic space as
“Violet” but is a slower, sadder contemplation also worthy of mention here.
Beck – Mellow Gold
I also have to confess that I never actually owned this
album either, mostly because aside from its ultra-famous slacker-anthem single
“Loser,” I did not really know any of the songs. Quick history lesson: in 1994
if you knew of, and liked, only ONE song on an album of twelve other songs you
had a few choices: 1) buy the album and hope you grew to like the rest of the
songs, 2) try to find a CD single of the song you liked and buy that, 3) wait
until a second single came out that you also liked (and then repeat the rest of
choice #1) or 4) just not buy the album at all and end up borrowing it from a
friend (and subsequently adding the one song you liked to a mix tape of other
“one hit wonders” whose albums you never bought). Hey, it was 1994 technology, what can I
say? And my stereo’s tape recorder was
very busy in those days. But I digress. Anyway, I dare you to play the opening riff
of “Loser” for anyone my age and not have them start bobbing their head on cue,
whether they like the song or not. It’s
catchy as hell, and it became an anthem for slackers anywhere to sing at the
top of their lungs, even if their Spanish was bad enough that they had no idea
what a “perdidor” is.
Oasis – Definitely Maybe
Yet another album I never bought. Actually the single “Live Forever” is the one
I remember most, and indeed it was the band’s best-selling single from that
album, reaching the top 10 in both the US and UK. Oasis stood out from the other grunge music
on the radio, but in a way that also made it fit in alongside the likes of the
Cranberries and the Counting Crows. The
album after this, (What’s The Story)
Morning Glory?, stuck with me more, but this first album opened the door,
so to speak, and since it also kicked off Oasis’ long career, it bears mention
here.
Madonna – Bedtime
Stories
This was Madonna’s “fuck you” album, and served as her
response to the condemnation and ridicule she received for her “Sex” book. Not all of the tracks were confrontational of
course, and indeed the first two singles, “Secret” and “Take a Bow”
respectively, seemed to point to a low-key album. But the first track “Survival” charted her
navigation through the difficult waters of the “Sex” book controversy and
fourth single “Human Nature,” which hooked me instantly with a really hard,
intense and groovy beat, was basically her shoving everyone’s moral outrage
right back into their face. Being
ignorant of this controversy at the time, the song’s meaning was lost on me at first,
but its passion hooked me then, and over time its message has continued to
resonate. How could it not with lines
like “Oops, I didn’t know I couldn’t talk about sex” and “Oops, I didn’t know I
couldn’t speak my mind”? She was saying,
in short, “fuck you hypocrites AND your moral outrage,” and good for her for
doing it.
Hootie and the Blowfish – Cracked Rear View
Yeah, I know. These
guys went from being really successful to being something of a punch line later
on, mostly because of how inoffensive and “simple” their songs supposedly
were. But you know, to me this album did
not become the 16th best-selling US album of all time for nothing,
and while you might say Hootie doesn’t necessarily rock like some of the other
albums of this list, you have to admit a lot of the songs you know from this
album (and I bet there are a few) are damn catchy, and do show a certain amount
of song craft. Hootie was “golf rock” as
they put it, and it was occasionally dramatic and occasionally mellow, but
seemed hooky enough to get in your head and force your feet to tap along to the
beat. Darius Rucker’s second career as a
country crooner indicates he has at least SOME level of talent, right? I think so.
Don’t listen to the movie Ted when it talks about this album!
Blues Traveler – Four
If you talk to most people who came of age in the 90s, I bet
a lot of them would remember the first time they heard the irresistibly catchy
“Run-Around” and its harmonica-shredding front man’s voice (and harmonica!)
come across their radio’s speakers for the first time. For me I was in the front seat of the
Cadillac that would one day become my first car and my first thought was,
“where in the hell did this guy learn to play a harmonica like THAT?” To say that song, and this album, were unlike
a lot of music on the radio at the time is an understatement but I’ll be damned
if it was not hugely successful anyway.
Follow-up singles “Hook” and the moody “The Mountains Win Again” were
also hits, but Run-Around is still, to this day, the band’s defining song, and
their greatest accomplishment.
Run-Around is tattooed on the year 1994 and I think for most people my
age it always will be. To me, it’s also
still as good today as it was back then and I can’t resist putting it on every
now and then.
Nine Inch Nails – The
Downward Spiral
Ah, yes, Nine Inch Nails.
By the time this album had come out I was already a fan of songs like “Head
Like a Hole” from the previous album Pretty
Hate Machine, but nothing could prepare me for the song “Closer,” which to
me is mostly what this album represents to me.
I did not own the album at the time but I could not get enough of
“Closer” and its chorus which contained the word “fuck” in a very prominent
way. Keep in mind I was in 7th
grade at the time before you judge me too hardly for partially liking the song
for such a “naughty” indiscretion. In
the years since I have grown to know this album much better but at the time the
song “Closer” served as an eye-opener for me and a segue into different types
of music, especially types that challenged the establishment as much as Trent
Reznor did at the time, so I find it valuable in that sense as well.
Weezer – Weezer (aka
The Blue Album)
Apparently this album would not have existed without Kurt
Cobain, or at least that is what Rivers Cuomo has recently been quoted as
saying ahead of this album’s upcoming 20th anniversary. Obviously songs like “Buddy Holly” and “Say
It Ain’t So” are not exactly Nirvana tunes, they do show a certain catchiness
and a level of craftsmanship that Cuomo credits Kurt Cobain with inspiring him
to. This album is also inexorably tied
with the extremely popular music videos that were made for their best-known
singles, including a “Happy Days” parody video for “Buddy Holly” which was
extremely popular. Weezer (and Cuomo)
became so famous after this it nearly destroyed them, but the album has
survived to become one of the best-regarded albums of the 90s, and one that
stands apart from other albums of the day mostly due to its relative uniqueness. To me this is the Weezer I prefer to remember
best.
Bush – Sixteen Stone
I was actually surprised that this album came out in 1994,
because to me it was still releasing hit singles in 1995 and into 1996, but
upon looking it up I discovered it came out toward the end of 1994 and was slow
to generate a lot of attention. What it
lacked in immediacy it made up for in staying power, with songs like
“Everything Zen,” “Machinehead” and “Comedown” becoming rock radio staples, and
to date the biggest (and most grunge-like) hits of the band’s career. To me this album is a fairly good and
consistent listen, with no really bad tracks to put you off putting it in the
stereo (or queuing it up digitally) and listening to it front to back. Bush started changing their sound quite a bit
after this, and to me the follow-up album Razorblade
Suitcase is the only one worth listening to.
Toadies – Rubberneck
This is yet another album that I never owned when it was
popular, and indeed much of it I recognized only years later when I finally
bought the entire album and listened to it all the way through. The elephant in this room, obviously, is
“Possum Kingdom,” which is a splendidly swampy, muddy, dirty track with vaguely
vampiric lyrics and an off-time beat, a song that never fails to produce a
positive (and vocal) reaction from audience members every time I have played
the song live in the various bands I have been in. Other hits included the similarly grungy “I
Come From The Water,” and “Backslider,” both of which are also vaguely off-time
and very catchy. Toadies are a band that
has endured, after only one break-up, until today and a lot of that underlying
talent is obvious on this album.
Collective Soul - Hints,
Allegations & Things Left Unsaid
Oh look, another album I didn’t own when it was out! But I do remember the song “Shine” from the
album very, very well, as do the band’s fans.
This band never really stopped once it started, and still releases music
pretty regularly. At the time this album
came out, I always confused the singles from it and its follow-up and it took
me re-discovering the music years later to untangle them. The album itself shares one trait with the
debut album by Foo Fighters: the fact that it began as just a demo by the lead
singer and became and “album” by a “band” only after “Shine” became a smash and
Ed Roland figured he should create an actual band to tour and record more music
with. This album, to me, is trumped by
its follow-up but songs like “Goodnight, Good Guy” and “Breathe” are worth
listening to anyway.
Stone Temple Pilots – Purple
Stone Temple Pilots brought blends of 60s psychedelia and
70s rock to 90s alternative music, and came out of Southern California (after
gaining a following in San Diego) with a different musical flavor that, while
it didn’t exactly blend in with the Seattle grunge stuff on the radio, it
certainly stood beside it as something equally meaningful and pretty damned
talented also. Purple was STP’s second
album and produced hits such as “Vasoline,” “Interstate Love Song” and “Big
Empty” but album tracks such as “Still Remains” and “Unglued” are very good
listens also. The whole album is another
one that’s great to just put on and listen to all the way through, but this is something
I only did years later when I actually owned the album.
Alice in Chains – Jar
of Flies
This is the first and only EP on this list, but then this
was no simple EP, and indeed it set a record by being the first EP in music
history to debut at number one on the Billboard 200 chart, and is the
best-selling of Alice in Chains’ other albums and EPs. I’ll be honest: I never owned this when it
came out, but its tracks were on the radio so much at the time I didn’t need
to. And as a single body of work, it
makes a melancholy listen with very dark, brooding songs set to a very slow,
plodding tempo. But one cannot deny the
craftsmanship and raw talent of the songs themselves, and with the exception of
the last track which is very unlike the other six, there isn’t a bad song on
this album. “Rotten Apple,” “Nutshell,”
and “I Stay Away” are all classics, but “No Excuses” is a track that belongs in
the 1990s Grunge Music Hall of Fame for how good it is. The song itself is a prophetic track about
the band’s ups-and-downs, past, present and future, due to Layne Staley’s
battles with heroin, and to this day it remains hauntingly prophetic but
undeniably good and well-written. It
also remains one of the few songs from this era that I cannot even attempt to
play well on the drums.
R.E.M. – Monster
Monster was the
album that nearly killed R.E.M., both during its recording (the band nearly
broke up recording the album) and its subsequent nearly two-year tour, during
which three members of the band had serious health problems needing immediate
surgery (Bill Berry had a brain aneurysm, Michael Stipe had a hernia and Mike
Mills had an intestinal adhesion removed).
It was also unlike most other R.E.M. albums in that it was more titled
towards rock and grunge, and contained textured, distorted guitars instead of
acoustic guitars and mandolins like previous albums. It also was written “in character,” as
Michael Stipe adopted a “Which one’s Pink?” type of detachment from his own
fame and questioned the nature of fandom and band worship. The songs themselves are groovy, occasionally
trippy sounding, and very moody. The
first track is the most accessible, the enjoyable “What’s The Frequency,
Kenneth?” and other gems include “Bang and Blame,” “Circus Envy” and the
slower, “Strange Currencies.” I like
this album well enough as a body of work attached to the time in which it was
released, but sonically it stands apart from other R.E.M. albums in a way that
ties it more to other things released in or near 1994 more so than other R.E.M.
albums. For me this album sets the stage
for its follow-up, an excellent release which was comprised of Monster tracks
that never made it onto Monster, and other things they wrote during Monster’s
long and arduous tour. But Monster still
deserves to be considered a classic, even if it is a classic tied inexorably to
its era.
And now, our Top Three:
Green Day – Dookie
OK, fine, yes, laugh at the fact that an album named after
shit, made by a band named after marijuana, made my Top 3. But it cannot be denied that this is an album
that was hugely popular upon its release, and is still popular today. It produced multiple hit singles and sold 10
million units in the US alone. But more
than that, it put Green Day itself on the map, which to this point was a small
band no one had ever heard of up in Berkeley.
A major label record contract cost them their longtime friends up in Berkeley
but introduced them to America, and more importantly they managed to capture
the slacker generation in a way that was punk, was rock, and also managed to
stand beside the angst of grunge rock and be counted as an equal. Songs about masturbation, and break-ups, and
sexual experimentation, and most importantly getting high, are not exactly
mature subjects, but then maybe there was a certain maturity about broaching
such subjects in popular music anyway.
It certainly spoke to people around my age and a bit older, and gave
voice to the general feeling of disaffection one can feel growing up in
suburbia. The sameness of your
surroundings becomes a sort of calling card, and an identity. Purpose is always something that is sought in
such surroundings, and it can be said that the music itself gave voice to these
feelings of angst and the desire to indulge in drugs or sex to escape
them. OK, it might not be high-brow art
to most people. But to me this music and
the time of its release are inseparable, and listening to this album today
still makes me recall buying it off of my childhood friend Bryan, taking it
home and listening to it for the first time like it all happened
yesterday. For better or for worse, the
album named after shit will always be a special part of my past.
Nirvana – Unplugged In
New York
I love this album. I
LOVE this album. I’m not sure you
understand when I say I honestly love every single nanosecond of this album,
and this remains one of my all-time favorite albums of not just this era, but
any era of music. Over the years I have
proclaimed its greatness, defended it to skeptical people, and engaged in
arguments with people who doubt whether it should be called “an album” since
it’s really a compilation and a live concert recording, much of which does not
even include songs by Nirvana, but rather such luminaries as the Meat Puppets, the
Vaselines, David Bowie, and Lead Belly.
But I care not for such doubts and petty criticisms because the simple
fact is: this album is amazing, was amazing, and will always be amazing. Part of its fame comes from the fact that it
was released after, and for many reasons because of the recent death of Kurt
Cobain, a scant six months after the show was recorded and only four months
after it first aired on MTV. The special
aired on a virtual loop on MTV after Cobain’s suicide, and it was felt that
demand was sufficient for the material to find release on an album, first as
part of a box set that was scrapped due to emotional pain preventing Dave Grohl
and Krist Novaselic from picking appropriate material, and then finally as a
standalone album, released almost one year after the show originally took
place.
But its troubled history aside, this show was unique in the
same way Nirvana itself was unique.
Instead of playing high-water hits and treating the show like any old
concert, Cobain insisted on a laid back feel with everyone sitting, surrounded
in black candles and lilies, and playing a set filled with more esoteric tracks
that more resembled music Cobain himself liked rather than what MTV felt the
audience wanted to hear. Hell, it was
not even truly “Unplugged” since Cobain’s guitar was plugged into an amp and
effect pedals. But the unusual nature of
the show worked, despite Cobain suffering from heroin withdrawal symptoms the
whole time and rehearsals not going particularly well beforehand. The whole concert was taped in one take,
making the show even more distinct from others like it. The Meat Puppets set of three songs is a
particular high point that I must mention, with the song “Lake of Fire” being a
particular favorite of mine to this day.
But all the songs work, in their own way, and fit together in a somewhat
unexplainable way, from “About A Girl” at the beginning and all the way to
“Where Did You Sleep Last Night” at the end.
It is rightly regarded as a musical high point for the band itself, and
a statement by Cobain himself affirming his intrinsic talent and genuine love
for performing. During the show you see
all the trouble surrounding it, whether it be drug issues, pissed off MTV
producers or bad rehearsals, melt away amidst a sonic backdrop that moves you,
and that transports you somewhere else entirely. It all fades away, leaving only the
music. As it should be.
Soundgarden – Superunknown
It was tough picking any album over Unplugged In New York, but if any album was up to the task, it’s
this one. I actually have to admit that,
while shorter, I actually think Unplugged
In New York has is a more solid album all the way through, but Superunknown was an amazing achievement,
and is still regarded today as one of the most essential and important albums
of the “grunge” era, possibly second only to such albums as Nevermind or Ten, or some would say, Badmotorfinger. To me though, Badmotorfinger was where Soundgarden broke through, but Superunknown was when they truly
arrived, as a band and as a musical force to be reckoned with. The history of the band until a few years ago
was that this album was their high water mark, unequaled by Down On The Upside, the much-awaited
follow-up two years later, after which the band broke up for over a decade amid
creative tensions. Because of this, for
many years, this album was my touchstone, my historical relic and the proof, in
disc form, that this band did indeed once rule the musical world, if only for a
little while. Much in the “grunge era”
was fleeting, but many different bands had their moment. This album was Soundgarden’s moment at the
very top of the heap, basically.
And what can I say about the tracks themselves? Mostly they speak for themselves, whether
we’re talking about “Let Me Drown” or “My Wave” which both open up the album in
thundering fashion, or the darker and more brooding angst-filled anthems like
“Fell On Black Days” or “The Day I Tried To Live” which both capture the
general disaffected anger at the establishment prevalent in much of grunge’s
musical catalog. Songs like “4th
of July” and “Mailman” and “Limo Wreck” all take the listener on moody musical
journeys, and songs like “Kickstand” and “Like Suicide” rock like any band
rooted in 70s rock and punk influences should.
But the all-time classics here can be summed up thusly: “Spoonman” and
“Black Hole Sun.” “Spoonman,” besides
being the only song I know with a goddamn spoon solo in the middle of it, is
just an amazing rock song that is irresistible and impossible to not rock out
to anytime you hear it. But for me the
biggest impression is made by “Black Hole Sun,” a creepy sonic journey that is
one of the few songs that I still associate, at least somewhat, with its famous
and oft repeated music video which included comically distorted, amused-looking
and vacantly staring people whose fake smiles twisted into an unrecognizable
rictus as the camera zoomed in. It was
enough to give a younger viewer nightmares, but the twisted visuals seemed to
actually fit the song. The biggest
memory I have though is something I’ll admit is a bit silly: a kid I knew in 7th
grade once asked me to stop talking to him, Seinfeld episode style (the one
where Elaine’s boyfriend cannot speak to anyone or be distracted every time
“Desperado” plays on the radio), as he closed his eyes and got lost in the
song, mouthing the words as he walked away.
It made an impression, I must say, stupid as that may sound. Over the years my love for the song, and this
album, have only grown, matured, and deepened.
And I finally did hear this music played live during a reunion show in
2011 at The Forum in Los Angeles. It was
just as amazing live. What better proof
did I need to keep liking it?
So that’s me. Anyone
seeking to understand where my music history, and where the very bedrock
foundation of what I like came from, that’s a large part of it right
there. To close this rumination out I
want to try a bit of lyrical craftsmanship of my own, and I hope you’ll pardon
my indulgence after so many words. If
you made it this far, kudos to you, and enjoy.
Sonic backdrop of a youth so long ago
Memories to the tune of a dropped D
Each time hearing it again takes me back
Somewhere wandering a desert in my mind
Moments recalled by strumming of notes
The scene is crafted by grooves and chords
Jangling, they speak of angst and disaffection
The one on the outside is now in
The slackers and the X’ers, ones who don’t belong
Voices screaming and now are finally heard
I join their crusade each night from my room
I fight a sonic war with discs and tapes
All that begins is also destined to end
The message is wrapped in corporate paper
Soon what’s in is out once again
Rock and grunge soon become Third Eye Blind
Those days are gone never to return again
Many of the windows long boarded and doors locked
The Wherehouse now an empty pad, Tower an empty lot
But the music is one thing I’ve still got
--Joe
Sonic backdrop of a youth so long ago
Memories to the tune of a dropped D
Each time hearing it again takes me back
Somewhere wandering a desert in my mind
Moments recalled by strumming of notes
The scene is crafted by grooves and chords
Jangling, they speak of angst and disaffection
The one on the outside is now in
The slackers and the X’ers, ones who don’t belong
Voices screaming and now are finally heard
I join their crusade each night from my room
I fight a sonic war with discs and tapes
All that begins is also destined to end
The message is wrapped in corporate paper
Soon what’s in is out once again
Rock and grunge soon become Third Eye Blind
Those days are gone never to return again
Many of the windows long boarded and doors locked
The Wherehouse now an empty pad, Tower an empty lot
But the music is one thing I’ve still got
--Joe