The Fleeting Rendezvous of the '90s

Musings of an Anxious Millennial Writer #01: Turns Out I Would in Fact, Swallow My Pride

My husband and I recently started watching Todd in the Shadows’ YouTube page (we’re a little late to the party I know), and his fascinating retrospectives on one-hit wonders. And to keep things I’ve learned from binging his videos is that number one: the '90s were wild and number two: wow, there were A LOT of one-hit wonders from that era. Everyone associates Gen X with sarcastic, unphased slackerism. Irony was king, and the flavor of every week was bitter. And yet, disavowed Reality Bites-style youth sipping Daniel Clowes’ O.K. soda did not entirely dominate the media. In fact, quite the opposite — instead it was a bubble gum-coated, Candy Land dreamworld. The ’90s were, decidedly, O.K.

The Cold War was in the rearview mirror, the nuclear threats and Satanic Panic of the ’80s now not much more than fodder for satire. The ’90s, namely the mid-to-late ’90s, encapsulated a worry-free, feel-good time. A brief moment of respite amidst the nearly never-ending chaos that is the American condition. The time where the biggest political concern was an undeniably likable president's infidelity, (a nice distraction from air raids on Iraq and military strikes in Kosovo in addition to forever giving gross men a pass if they’re even the slightest bit charming and hold power) but still… everything felt trivial. A trivial sublime if you will… And as such, it was fleeting. 

Most media — but especially music — in the ’90s felt like a race against the clock. It was about throwing anything and everything at the wall to see if it would stick, even if only temporarily. It was like a key plot point of any teen movie at the time, throwing a bomb-ass high school party that a little too many people showed up to while your parents were out of town. There was a swing revival, a ska revival, a Latin revival, and songs like “How Bizarre” that crossed borderlines, being both multicultural and belonging to no style or genre all at once. Likewise, some of the greatest “songs about nothing” like Len’s “Steal My Sunshine'' ruled supreme. Many artists, for better or for worse, cashed in and got out. It was as if, despite the general complacency and malaise, there was an underlying sense of impending doom. And that sense began to creep into the musical lexicon toward the end of the century. 

It started with Green Day’s “Good Riddance,” which will forever be associated with images from the last episode clip show of Seinfeld—an ending that also let us know a long stretch of emptiness was fast approaching. On its heels came a subgenre of its own: songs written specifically for endings; especially for graduations. The aptly-titled “Graduation” by Vitamin C became the end-of-the-school-year anthem for junior high and high schoolers alike. “Everybody’s Free” (you know, the sunscreen song) was a plea for an older crowd, aspirational for college grads. And “Here’s to the Night'' was the song to play at the bonfire before summer ends and everything changes (the song is, in fact, actually about a one-night stand). It was all an acceptance of fate and an acknowledgment of the fun times that came before. It was recognizing that adulthood was on the horizon. That we would all have to grow up, move on, cherish the memories of fun times... but know that all you can carry with you are memories, snapshots you can look back fondly on while arming yourself for a future where only one thing is certain: the sun is just going to keep getting hotter, and hotter, and hotter. It’s painfully pre-election fraud, pre-George W. Bush, pre-9/11.

Sure your fiery-haired songstresses and pop-punk bands couldn’t have known what was to come (or could they?), but the notion of endings was there. And those moments of exuberance would belong to that period of time. Those one-and-two-hit wonders of the ’90s/Y2K would never get that second chance again. Nothing would ever be the same. Cherish the memories. Take the snapshots. Wear sunscreen. But move on. 

…But maybe that’s not how it has to be. 

Yes, from here on out this is going to be a piece about the band Eve 6.

In my (minimal) research, I learned that “Here’s to the Night'' came out in 2000, but I distinctly associate it with my eighth-grade graduation in 2002. It was a song played at every summer party before we all parted ways. Going to a Catholic grammar school meant that most of us would be attending different schools in the fall. Truth be told, I kind of didn’t care and couldn't stand it. It was so teen-movie-saccharine. It’s a song for the popular kids who were starting to sneak out and smoke and drink and hook up. It wasn’t for the kids whose fondest memories were of building joke websites and carrying around a tiny notebook filled with humorous observations a la Jack Handy, or adding to their binders of Dave Barry articles cut out of the Daily News. Nevertheless, I listened to it on my Walkman when they played on the radio, trying to drum up that sense of belonging. It was a song that encapsulated a time, place, and feeling — but not one that would withstand the tests of time (well, my time at least).

Despite it being their first radio hit, I wouldn’t discover “Inside Out'' until a few years later. While moving through the CD aisles at the newly-opened Target I came upon a ’90s compilation album with a few songs I recognized on it. It was purchased for the purpose of listening with my mom on the car rides as she drove me to school. I, now a more musically savvy Sophomore, could properly scrutinize and choose music that we both would enjoy. We popped the CD into her Dodge Stratus’ CD player and the opening lines hummed through the speakers,

I would swallow my pride 

I would choke on the rinds 

but the lack thereof would leave me empty inside. 

I would swallow my doubt,

turn it inside out,

find nothing but faith in nothing…

It was unexpected. It was attention-grabbing in its verbosity. It was so not “Here’s to the Night.” I was instantly captivated, and the luster never wore off, though I never considered it in the pantheon of the ’90s best-ofs or of one-and-two-hit alt-rock wonders. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” and “All for You” it was not.  It was just a really good song, but I never dived into Eve 6’s discography as a result, quite the opposite was true for “Possum Kingdom,” which would lead me to discover one of my favorite albums of all time, Rubberneck by the Toadies. But still, I committed every lyric of “Inside Out”  to memory and would sing along with my whole chest any time I heard it on the radio in the years that followed.

Cut to 2020.

It’s very rare that I’m online at the inception of a viral revolution, but I watched the debut of Eve 6 into the online space happen in real-time. 

I thought it was a parody at first (albeit quite a niche one). “Do you like the heart in a blender song?” It stuck in my head the next morning like I had a bad hangover.

But it was all real. A brilliant move for a comeback in the modern era; go viral. Combine lefter-than-left politics with brutal transparency, earnest confessions, and conversations. And, most importantly, it’s all honest. It’s not “how do you do fellow kids”-ing yourselves back into stardom, except stardom isn’t even really the goal (maybe). Perfect use of virality as a means of achieving virility, but for people for whom virility is laughable because fuck that noise. 

But… is the new album actually any good?

I’ll admit I had my reservations. The first single, “Black Nova,” felt surprisingly like the 2000s, much akin to the popular alt-rock of the time. 

There’s nothing wrong with that but it was unexpected. I dug it. But I wasn’t sure if it would be enough to keep me coming back for more.

Boy, was I deceived.

Past the alt-rock anthem single lies one of the best pop-punk (though don’t tell them I called them that) EPs I’ve heard in some time. But it’s not just pop-punk, it’s hyper self-aware pop-punk made by people past a suitable “pop-punk age” (I’m better than making a lowbrow Warped Tour joke here so don’t expect one). It’s about rediscovering the joys of youth in a socially acceptable way. It’s anthems for divorcees, people in recovery, single parents, and anyone else who feels left behind. 

It’s the most Goddamn punk rock thing ever, sung by a band pushing more punk rock ethos and worldviews than the self-proclaimed card-carrying members of the punk community who lapsed in caring about the world after Bush left office in ‘08. 

If you’re still here and into me waxing poetic about Eve 6, here’s my quick song-by-song review of grim value: 

BLACK NOVA

The aforementioned ‘00s alt-rock-style bop. Brings me back to that feeling of thinking I was the coolest 16-year-old manic pixie dream girl discovering “Bohemian Like You” by The Dandy Warhols for the first time… but more kick-ass. 

I WANNA BITE YOUR FACE

“I Wanna Bite Your Face'' is probably my new favorite love song. There’s no reason why it’s not the top love song of the year, cute aggression should be a universal emotion at this point. Also, when’s the last time you heard the words “osmosis” and “mercurial'' used so seamlessly in a song? Take that, Greg Gaffin. 

CAN WE COMBINE

This song has so much going on and that’s what makes it so damn good. It’s manic, uplifting, happy, and pissed off all at once. Plus, it gets a good dig at The Strokes in. It’s those little things that matter… because aren’t we all just trying to survive this piss and shit world?

ANGEL OF THE SUPERMARKET

Not since Bill Bailey’s spin on a Billy Bragg song had I thought I could be swept up in the romantic whimsy of women, potatoes, and food shops but here we are. 

GOOD FOR YOU

This is the song I would want to play during the fun first date scene in the movie of my life. Also, the fun first date scene in the movie of my life would probably just be the first date scene of Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead. I dare you to not dance in your seat when you listen to this while you work on something soul-sucking that makes you want to flip tables and say fuck you to authority, but you still got bills to pay. Really just encapsulates what Eve 6 is all about, honestly. 

Eve 6’s grim value gets a 10/10 stolen potatoes from me. Probably my favorite release of 2021 (though I also didn’t listen to many new releases in 2021 so there’s that). And yes, I may be about six months behind on this review—but this is a nostalgia-based blog, and we’re quickly approaching the year anniversary of Eve 6’s rise to Twitter and leftist podcast fame. If you’re here for timely updates, you’re outta time, my friend. 

Next time, we’ll explore the Wild West that was TRL. Stay tuned for that in… well, I don’t know, but hopefully shorter than the three months it took me to write this one, but I make no promises. We’re here for a good time, not a long time, baby!