Triple J Hottest 100 Countdown Countdown: 1993, #90 - 81

 This is entry number 2 of my attempt to go through every song of every Triple J Hottest 100, starting with 1993, in the process figuring out exactly when Triple J died on its arse (figuratively speaking). For at least ten to fifteen years now this particular countdown has elicited a lot of criticism and general negativity among the public, and this year has been particularly bad. I started writing this series as an attempt to do something more than just complain, to better understand what alternative music used to be in this country and what it has become. You can see the previous entry in this series here, and a general overview of the rationale behind it in this introductory post. In this entry, I'll go through the songs that came in from 90 to 81 in the 1993 Hottest 100.

So far, I've been pleasantly surprised. The glasses I was wearing to view the past turned out not to be especially rose-coloured - though the general run of songs covered so far were, overall, more upbeat and generally happier than the mental image I had of alternative music in the early 90s (comprised of grunge and EDM, mainly). None of the songs I've covered have been ones that I completely hate (though some definitely inspire more cynicism than others). There's been a good range of genres, including a lot of light indie rock, some folksy or bluesier numbers, and more reggae than I remember being in the charts at that time. Looking ahead now, I'm hopeful that this diversity of musical styles is going to continue for the next ten songs.

90: "For Tomorrow" - Blur

 

Finally, something with a more pronounced low end. Apparently "For Tomorrow" was one of several songs Blur wrote as a reaction to grunge, which was enough of a trend amongst alternative rock bands that it became its own genre (post-grunge). If you can get past Damon Albarn's accent, the awful chorus (Albarn just singing 'la la la la la' on repeat), and the absence of anything else of significance in the lyrics, this actually quite a good song. The beat is good, I like the string section that chimes in and out. A song like this should sound more vacuous and corporate than it does. The lyrics are just vague and London-y, like they were going for something that sounds like it could have been written by Paul McCartney, with maybe just enough hints of subtext and metaphor that it could have been used by Tony Blair's election campaign a few years later. I think that's the most fitting way to describe it: New Labour post-grunge.

Albarn, in his affected, mannered quirkiness, annoyingly hyperactive and acrobatic in the music video, reminds me a bit of Greg Arnold of Things of Stone and Wood (#91 in this countdown). I guess in the early 90s there was also a trend of indie rock singers who felt it deeply important to act out their lust for life while making cloyingly positive music that didn't say much about anything. Perhaps after a few more posts into this series I'll come to realise that this wasn't a trend specific only to that time. I hope Cake gets a spot on this countdown or the next, John McCrea is good example of the polar opposite to what I'm talking about.

This isn't bad though. Albarn is going for a sort of David Bowie-cadence and it almost works. It's still indistinct enough that I can't ever remember listening to it (specifically) on the radio, but it's definitely familiar. The music video opens zooming into a corpse floating on the Thames, which turns out to be Albarn, which is a nice touch. I can imagine Ricky Gervais listening to this and enjoying it, but Blur can't help that.  

89: "Aboriginal Woman" - Mixed Relations

 This is a good, socially-conscious, positive song by Bart Willoughby's band Mixed Relations. Willoughby had been involved in a few different bands dating back to the seventies, and in the early eighties support Peter Tosh on an Australian tour. You can sort of hear the reggae influence in "Aboriginal Woman," or at least a few YouTube commenters seem to things it's pretty clear. It's definitely there in the lyrical content - there's a continuity with reggae's relationship with Black power and empowerment. The message is strong, uplifting - not directed at me specifically, but you can respect it.

Aboriginal Woman has an sort of infectious, sort of Latin-inspired beat, with a cool breakdown during the bridge. There are a lot of moving parts, and it's not boring to listen to. Another one buried in my subconscious, I don't recognise it but certain parts are familiar. Curious to know how much radio play it got back in the day.

88: "Dixie Drug Store" - Grant Lee Buffalo

 

Thirty seconds in and I'm struggling to not find Grant-Lee Phillips's voice annoying. It doesn't help when he switches to a different octave in the verses. "Dixie Drug Store" is just weird enough to not sound like generic, placid, early 90s alternative soft rock, but nowhere near abrasive or surprising enough to be compelling. The 'contemporary' beat doesn't either play off or gel with the fragments of country-ish influences in the rest of the song, it just makes everything sound boring. The narrative lyrics, which I can barely be bothered to look up, contribute nothing either. They hold more literary interest written down than sung (by Phillips), but they still have little resonance. Some story about a guy who went to New Orleans and accidentally had sex with a ghost. Not exactly something you can sing passionately about. The forced rusticity and earthiness is offset by the lack of those qualities in the lead singer. That said, I guess (according to Wikipedia) Phillips being from Stockton, California and putting himself through music school by doing menial work is a little bit more respectable than the image that coalesced in my head of Creedence Clearwater Revival being played by private music school graduates.

 

It's interesting that Dixie Drug Store made it to the countdown to begin with - it doesn't seem to have been released as a single. It doesn't stand out to me in any way as being an above-average album track. The 12-string guitar and other touches in the production should make it sound lush, but it just sort of blends together into a faux-sepia gruel. Tonally, it's almost interesting during the chorus, but the chord change resolves into something bland and upbeat, commercial almost. There are better songs off the same album - the titular "Fuzzy" actually has some depth (and is much less produced). And Phillips seems to be there for a reason. Dixie Drug Store is just malaise, maybe even affected malaise. If his voice was slightly off-key it could have been a hit on Triple J in the early 2010s.

87: "Do It" - Swoop

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Not a lot to write about here. This is Australian disco funk, released in 1993. The music video is excellent, one of the Rage-iest videos I've seen. Instant headache and sense that I've stayed up too late. The music itself was clearly put together by a lot of people who felt passionately about funk, disco, eighties pop music, Michael Jackson and probably a lot of other musical facets of the preceding fifteen years, but then the product of their enthusiasm is halfway between disco and aerobics. I can't imagine it ever sounding contemporary - listening to this in 1993 must have made you feel retro for existing in that time. At one point a verse is sung by a white man with dreadlocks wearing a black tracksuit, but he isn't the lead singer. I'm pretty sure that's Fiona Ta'akimoeaka, who's a good vocalist, and has a pleasant, dynamic range. There's a sort of funk-Latin breakdown in the middle of song, which threw me off. 

 

Actually, you know what? It grows on you, this is going to be cycling through my head for the next few days. And if I'm caught humming "I can't take... [something something] the world you're making [something something]" at work I doubt anyone's going to know who hell Swoop is. They released "Apple Eyes" a couple of years later, which is much more polished, poppier, and was played to death to the point where it putrifies in your ears, like opening an expired jar of tomato paste that was sitting in the back of the fridge. However, I don't remember Do It at all, which I guess means it's still safe to eat (or listen to?). It was actually quite hard to find on YouTube.

86: "World (the Price of Love)" - New Order

 

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Weird to think these guys were in Joy Division. "World..." sucks you in (or, more accurately, blows you off) to thinking you're listening to lingering 80s pop made with more modern synthesisers. But, slowly, you drift back in and realise there's a bit more depth to it, underneath the layers of electronic instrumentation, which themselves become more inviting the closer you listen. Maybe I don't listen to enough to generic 80s pop (actually, I'm pretty sure I listen to exactly enough generic 80s pop music, which is to say only what I hear on the fake radio stations in Vice City), but as it gradually falls away at its conclusion, World ends up sounding to me like something completely, sneakily evolved. The saccharine, polished, sing-song vocals are like something by Go West, so I guess it's in the instrumentation. I'm not knowledgeable enough about music to be able to detect the key this song is written in, or even if there are any minor chords, but it's not upbeat by any stretch. There's a juxtapositional quality latent between the music's different elements that gives the whole a melancholy touch. It's more than just nostalgia, at least.

I can't find much in the lyrics to expand upon - what I like about this song is purely in the instruments and the way they're played. There are odd effects applied to the piano, some reverb is mixed in, there may be other non-standard pop instruments mixed in as well, I can't tell. The programmed drums are straight early-90s dance music, but the way they and the other instruments bounce off each create something more complicated. At the risk of making a predictable analogy, there's a touch of Joy Division in there. There's also a heavily air-conditioned gym. I can also detect a hint of Cool Spot. Altogether, an interesting artifact. It also feels like another music nerd vote - without looking into it, I'm going to assume New Order weren't regularly in the charts by 1993. They had four entries in the all-time Hottest 100 of 1991. Like the song itself, that seems to reflect a mix of looking backward and looking forward.

85: "Three Little Pigs" - Green Jelly

 

Ok this is really bad. Embarrassing as well. Maybe the music video has some art school, pulpy value but that's it. I'm not sure how to interpret "Three Little Pigs" other than as a cultural artifact, an archeological specimen that loses any integrity or inherent value it may have had through exposure to contemporary air upon its exhumation. It sounds offensively bad, which I'm guessing is deliberate, but that only raises questions as to the mode of its appreciation upon the time of its release. How did Gen Xs listen to this? Did they get into it? Did they find it funny and appreciate it from a position of sort of ironic detachment? Presumably Green Jelly had concerts. This shit sounds like something Trent's band in Daria would have played in a jam session. It sounds like it was made with the primary, but not sole aim of offending baby boomers. The problem with making music that's intentionally, not incidentally, offensive, is that you consign yourself to superficiality. That's why this sounds more like Limp Bizkit than Nirvana. 

Which leads to the qualities that make Three Little Pigs distinctively, aromatically of its time. I can't imagine any young person playing this today. Not even a millenial. It doesn't compute. It almost sounds kind of Christian when you think about it in a modern context - maybe a really confused youth pastor would try something like this. Back in 1993 I can see how the sort of grungey, loud, feedback-saturated rock music that Green Jelly played would have sounded new enough to be shocking to anyone older than 35. Thirty years later, now that rock music is basically dead and every garage band plays Nirvana covers and music of that ilk (probably because if you play covers of Linkin Park or Hoobastank or the Killers you wouldn't be a garage band - maybe a nostalgia-infused novelty act), the actual musical component just sounds routine. The fact so many people now take alternative music from that time seriously just makes the lack of depth more pronounced.

 I can imagine some apolitical, postmodernism-enthused literature/cultural studies student about ten years later discovering this song and finding its banal, superficially self-reflexive lyrics referencing various, disconnected elements of pop culture so revelatory that he ends up basing his masters thesis on it. Yes, Green Jelly refers to Ted Nugent as Pig Nugent, which is deserved and accurate, but then lead singer Bill Manspeaker says Nugent has a "Masters Degree from Harvard College," which would be funny if Nugent actually had an Ivy League education (and decided essentially to do fuck-all with it), but Nugent is not, in fact, particularly well-educated. Meaning that Manspeaker was instead commenting on the hypothetical irony of Ted Nugent going to Harvard, a kind of very literal one-note absurdism, rather than actually insulting Nugent in any meaningful way. At another point he rhymes Bob Marley with Harley (Davidson). He's basically just throwing various cultural references at a wall already primed with adhesive slime. Like a Gen X We Didn't Start the Fire, with extra BO. Just abysmal. Easily the worst I've heard so far on this countdown.

84: "Bullet in the Head" - Rage Against the Machine

 

I never really got into Rage Against the Machine, to be honest. Their particular version of angsty, angry, artfully-sociopolitically-informed rap rock was very much in orbit of my cultural milieu, was popular at school well into the mid-2000s, but never really hooked me in. I'm trying to think of a way to articulate my aversion to their music, and partly it's the music itself - the bass lines to their songs, including "Bullet in the Head," are strong and dominant but not exactly dynamic, and the rhythm section generally isn't really rhythmic. Like most heavy metal this is music it feels like you're meant to head-bang to, it's not really danceable. It sounds good when there's resonance and feedback, and the album version of Bullet in the Head is better in this regard than the version used in the music video above, but without those qualities it feels kind of empty. I can't tell exactly what's missing, and guess the spareness is an intended production choice, but something (probably more complex rhythms and melody) feels absent.

Zack de la Rocha's screechy, teenage boy punching through the dry wall vocals are entertaining but grating (for me - I know plenty of people appreciate them). My understanding is that a lot of people who like RAtM really get into that, and maybe de la Rocha was channeling some version of teenage angst they once expressed and which now deeply resonates with them, but I was a depressed, angsty teenager too and it just sounds off-putting and kind of forced. Maybe he's conveying a specifically suburban angst, a tantrum within a nuclear family setting, though if that's the case it corresponds more closely with the band's audience than with de la Rocha's own upbringing. If I find his lyrics off-putting it's because they seemed to have a level of educated middle-class acceptance and credibility that I associate with a distance between the ideas behind them and their creative expression, which makes them sound, to me, mannered. His sociopolitical commentary often sounds like commentary rather than an honest expression of grief. In fairness, it's hard to write socially conscious music without singing what in effect becomes an essay or a tract, but some bands from that era managed it. This is more a reaction against the context in which I've heard RAtM, the songs themselves are well put-together and respectably intelligent and angry. Bullet in the Head feels vaguely meaningful and has parts that sound good. The bridge, where de la Rocha starts by whispering and gets progressively angrier, is entertainingly similar to same part of Killing in the Name. It just isn't for me.

83: "Your Eyes (Shaggy Mix)" - Underground Lovers

 

 Just to start with, I should note that I haven't been able to find the 'Shaggy Mix' of this song anywhere available online. There are quite a few versions available on YouTube, and the version on the music videos sounds quite different from the album versions, all of which are different lengths. But overall I get the idea. And I'm sure the one above is the version I've heard played on the radio most often.

Generally, I would describe this mix as slightly less soporific than the other pure rock versions, but still boring as sin. The vocals aren't great. There's depth of sound, and an attempt to create an atmosphere, but overall it's empty and (though this is well-disguised) upbeat. The Underground Lovers aren't angry about anything, they don't have a point to make. It's just Coldplay but more upbeat and with more feedback. I don't hate it. The rock versions feel timeless, but not in a good way - they could have just as easily been released ten years later and given about the same amount of radio play. This version sounds very much like mid-90s contemporary alternative rock/pop. The music video helps with this effect substantially. It got a lot of radio play, probably because most of the song doesn't stand out in any meaningful way, the whole thing is one long cough-syrupy loop. If you have limited expectations it doesn't grate. This version, though, has a some kind of vibrating, high pitched electronic synthesised counterpoint that chimes in and out, which becomes unpleasant when you focus on it. It's almost headache-inducing. I don't have nostalgia related to this song, though I think I have nostalgia related to headaches this song gave me. Your Eyes smells like copper. So does the music video. Imagine being told by a friend in 1993 "hey you've really got to check out this band, they're playing at [insert pub] tonight," and then getting there and they're playing this song. I can't imagine not being disappointed. But at the same time I made the effort to get dressed and catch a bus so I guess I'll hang around for a bit and buy a couple of drinks.

82: "Green Limousine" - The Badloves

 

This is extremely lightweight late sixties/early seventies nostalgia. The Badloves are described by Wikipedia as "an Australian R&B, soul band," which isn't a good start. Lead singer Michael Spiby is a ginger Nick Cave, with a voice so light, fluffy and air-fried I'm not sure he's even singing. Like he's found a way to hum with his mouth open. The band itself is talented, it sounds like they're playing their instruments well, but then I'm still left with the question why bother if this is what you're going to play? The whole thing is so light and unassuming I feel bad for criticising it. The kind of 70s soul/funk they're channeling had a seriousness and gravity to it which the Badloves have completely failed, deliberately or otherwise, to replicate. It's just lounge music. There's no attitude or nastiness to it. There's nothing to read into the lyrics at all, they're squeaky clean and devoid of content besides vague cultural call-backs.

In the music video they clearly went op-shopping for period-specific clothing and failed unpleasantly. Some of the backup singers are wearing jean jackets, whereas old Spiby is wearing a kind of gross-looking purple velvet jacket and a shirt underneath with a yellow collar. I know it's not fair to judge the song by the music video, but there are some other things going on there that get worse the closer you look. Spiby has a soul patch which I think disappears and re-appears intermittently. Combined with his 90s part down the middle and terrible sartorial choices I can't imagine him being considered cool by anyone at any point in time. Susie Ahern, who's providing backup vocals, is talented and has been part of the Australian music industry for a long time, but she's also a white lady with blonde dreadlocks (and, in this music video, deep blue 90s Justin Timberlake sunglasses). The pianist has Weird Al hair. The lyrics try to resolve the actual substance of the type of 70s soul they're drawing from with their 90s, end-of-history apoliticism, and don't succeed. "Listen to the sound of the revolution..." Nick Astley-Cave croak-croons, "everybody's cool... everything's alright..." Doesn't exactly sound like a revolution to me. Calling this sonic gentrification might be a bit harsh, but I wouldn't be surprised if Spiby owns an investment property or two.

81: "Insane in the Brain" - Cypress Hill

 

Excellent. "Insane in the Brain" has one of my favourite beats in all of rap. Apparently it's a diss track aimed at a guy called Chubb Rock, who had talked shit about Cypress Hill earlier. This makes sense, explains the fat shaming. Generally I'm just happy to finally hear a song that comes from a place other than vague contentment. These guys have a sprightly sort of nastiness that's infectious, and a sense of humour about it. The song's also about pot, which kind of gels with the sound, especially when you watch the music video. 

Insane in the Brain is fun and danceable and also sort of deep. In the sense that there's more to its purpose than just being a dance track that will fill a room with sound. There are lots of nice scratchy sounds forming the beat, which itself is pretty simple, giving it some vibrancy and potency upon repeat listening. The drone in the chorus is headache-inducing, but a good sort of headache (an earned one). It has a lot of well-chosen, subtle samples from sixties and seventies R&B and soul. These add texture to it, and combine together to create something new (unlike the call-backs in "Green Limousine," which create something less the original point of reference). B-Real being a member of the Bloods and appropriating the phrase "insane in the membrane" - code for an insanity plea - for the chorus gives it a bit of gonzo realism too. I'm happy with it being at this point in the list, though it could use better company.

Review

I'm starting to see some patterns, though I'm not sure how to evaluate them. Listening to ten songs from this era in a row, it's easy to lose perspective. Compared to the kind of crap that was played repeated on the radio ten years later, many of the songs I've complained about so far really aren't that bad. That said, apparently a lot of the alternative rock musicians that got play on JJJ in the early 90s liked the sound of the heavier bands coming out the US and UK at that time, but didn't understand the motivation behind them. When I listen to the songs above by Grant Lee Buffalo, the Underground Lovers or the Badloves (all terrible band names by the way), I struggle to understand what they're doing there. Who, in 1993, was listening to these bands and was so enthusiastic about them that they would make an active effort to get them into the Hottest 100? Three Little Pigs is even worse, though I can at least understand the novelty value that would motivate people. The entries by Blur and New Order are both respectable though. 

The (comparatively) rich eclecticism I noticed in the previous ten has continued, the non-alternative-rock songs by Mixed Relations and Cypress Hill are both great and add a lot of value to the countdown. Even Bullet in the Head is richer in the aspects of life it responds to and more direct than anything I've heard on the radio more recently. But it is a little sad to see these three tracks mired amongst the more mediocre or outright offensively bad entries in the list. That said, becoming aware of the existence of Green Jelly and writing about it was an interesting, enlivening cultural and educational experience. I wouldn't mind rediscovering a few more car crashes like that, though I'm hopeful that the run of bland, repetitive indie rock (from this time period, at least) is a blip in the radar and the headache will pass.