Grunge happened five years too early for me. My sister did it properly, what with her riot grrl friends who gave her tapes of Veruca Salt songs and had rainbow-streaked hair adorned with daisies*.
I came of musical age post-grunge and post-Brit Pop. To over intellectualise the issue, it was a time of musical flux. Britney was prancing about in her school uniform, Christina was writhing around in the sand and I was still wearing white knee socks and velvet Alice bands with my name piped on them in puffy pen. Pop was reigning supreme and I was not feeling it in the slightest. I‘d seen my sister grow up and thought she was pretty damned cool. So I decided to be an alternative indie rocker, just like she was.
It was a nice little identity to play with as a 14-year-old. The make up was glittery; the hair was dyed with pots of gloopy paste from the hippy shop and the nails where always black and always chipped. The tights and accessories were pretty awesome too.
Faux-fur and tiaras aside, the music really mattered to me. Music is still very much my radar, it is where I find myself when I’m losing sight of who I am and what matters to me.
Some of the albums from my teenage years have not aged well. A case in point: Tura Satana’s** All Is Not Well album (sample lyric: “In the back of their neck, I got a nickel plated flex-g and a right to dress sexy”). As a 15-year-old I considered this to be a masterpiece in rap-metal and feminism. As a 27-year-old, I consider it to be “a bit of a racket”.
I’m on a bit of a musical nostalgia trip this evening, so here are five of my teenage albums that have stood the test of time. As you’ll see, I lived many of my indie rock ‘n’ roll dreams through my big sister. This was because I wasn’t allowed to go to gigs until I was 15. I missed out on lots of cool stuff and I’m still a teensy bit jealous.
No Doubt: Tragic Kingdom
No Doubt were one of my more chirpy musical indulgences. I dabbled with ska-punk for a while but always found it a bit too samey. No Doubt came along with just the right balance of ska, pop and punk. Tragic Kingdom moves from the stomping Just A Girl to the soaring balladry of Don’t Speak with ease and finesse. Excuse Me Mr is still something of a personal anthem.
Memory: Sitting up and waiting for my sister to get back from a No Doubt gig and making her tell me all about it. She caught a bouquet that Gwen threw into the crowd and gave me half of it.
Hole: My Body The Hand Grenade
I could have said either Live Through This or Celebrity Skin, I love them both dearly and it would be impossible to pick one. My Body the Hand Grenade is a collection of early Hole recordings and rarities that I remember saving for weeks to buy on import. I can’t even listen to the first half of it now – heavily distorted noise rock was never really my bag. 20 Years in the Dakota and My Beautiful Son are two of the best tracks, as well as the acoustic Season of the Witch.
Memory: Playing Retard Girl very loudly and my Mom getting really pissed off/worried about me.
Pavement: Brighten the Corners
Mainly for the lyrics “the actress is always breaking things, the things you made she took you for” from Date With Ikea. I loved Pavement (and still do) because they seemed kind of wiseass and snarky and geeky and clever and cute. Listening to this album made me feel really sophisticated and intellectual. Shady Lane was mine and my husband’s “song” for the first couple of years we were together.
Memory: Writing “Pave” on the right shell toe of my trainers and “ment” on the left. Where Ben Kweller went I tended to blindly follow. Leading me neatly to…
Radish: Restraining Bolt
Ben Kweller was my first official indie boy crush. He was totally like Kurt Cobain, only not dead and he looked like he’d smell way better. This was another album that I saved my paper round wages for – it arrived from the states in a cracked jewel case. I was gutted. Kerrang! described Little Pink Stars as an “anthem for unrequited love” or something like that. This made it sound, like, really deep and meaningful to my hormone-addled ears. Radish may well be lost in the musical ether; to me they will always be a precious piece of punk-pop perfection.
Memory: When my sister sat and got drunk with Ben Kweller’s Dad at a Radish gig in Wolverhampton. Apparently, he was “a lovely man”.
Garbage: Garbage
Whilst I wanted to be Courtney Love, I knew deep down that Shirley Manson was a far more achievable goal. I remember buying Milk as one of my first CD singles and playing it on repeat – it wasn’t an easy listen, I’ll give you that, and I still have no idea what that bloody song is about.Then I saw the video for Only Happy When It Rains and decided that, one day, I would be as cool as that.
Memory: Buying a Shirley Manson inspired black and pink shift dress from Topshop and feeling like the queen of the universe in it. I wore it with black tights, Mary Janes and my sister’s fake glasses. Remember people, this was Dudley in the 90s, I was way ahead of the curve.
*My sister will readily admit that she didn’t like any of the music. She preferred Arrested Development, George Michael and Edith Piaf.
**An LA rap metal band fronted by Tairrie B.
Hahaha! I never really liked any of the music. I never really liked Edith Piaf, come to that. I’m off to listen to Phil Collins now….