October 8, 2021
It’s been written many times, so many times that it’s probably a cliché by now, that the music that was popular when you were in high school and college has the most influence on your music tastes, and your life, in general. Much like the cast of Saturday Night Live during those same years tends to be your favorite of all-time. Guilty as charged for me – the years with Miller, Carvey, Myers, Hooks, Nealon and (probably the best of all) Hartman were outstanding. The last few years of SNL have been unbearable and unwatchable for me, not that I spend any meaningful time with the show anymore. (Insert GIF of “old man yelling at clouds” here.)
I was a child of the 1980s, the MTV generation, the years with synthesizers, big hair on teenage girls and faux rock guitarists, who accented their big hair with spandex pants. Yes, my friends, the 1980s was not exactly the apex of high quality music, especially when compared to the decades before and after. Sure, there were some fun 80s tunes that still hit a sweet spot of nostalgia when you hear them. Some are more effective than others, especially if you’re on the dancefloor of a bar on a Friday night, shortly before closing, and you’ve stayed well-hydrated all night.
In the Fall of 1990, I headed off to college in Amherst, Massachusetts with anxiousness, trepidation, and a few dozen CDs of my favorite music to keep me company. At that point, while I still had some 1980s music in my head, my investment in physical music was primarily some of the classic bands from the 1960s and 1970s, including The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, and Bruce Springsteen, along with a few other bands starting to hit their peak popularity which I’ll cover in a little while. The college years are when your eyes are opened to people from an incredibly diverse background, opinions, lifestyles, and cultural interests. I was fortunate to experience (what we now realize was) a seismic shift in the music landscape at this time in my life, with the group of friends that I met in my dorm at UMass. Looking back on it, it truly was a fun time to be a music fan.
I wrote a few weeks ago that I had one of those “Holy Shit” moments at the gym recently, when I heard a song from Metallica’s self-titled album (referred to as the Black Album) and my brain instantly recalled that the record came out in 1991 and then my accountant brain responded “30 years ago.” Around the same time, an old high-school friend shared a meme of all of the great albums released that year, and I started doing some research on my own, recalling what an interesting year in music it was. You had releases from a confluence of artists, like Michael Jackson, Bryan Adams, and Paula Abdul, who were clinging to their 1980s sound, along with artists like The Spin Doctors, Seal, and De La Soul trying to fashion a new sound. You even had artists like Boyz II Men creating a sound that harkened back to something from a few decades earlier, mixed in with a modern pop sound. But nobody embodied the 1990s sound better than the groundbreaking Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch…Just kidding.
The turning of the decade saw a number of albums and artists emerge that would brush away the glittery pop of the 1980s sound and tear down the “Greed is Good” era of Reaganomics in a way that announced, “We’re a new generation. We’re pissed off. And this music is how we’re expressing our anger.” We saw a whole new genre of music emerge from the Pacific Northwest that would change the landscape for the next decade, some new artists catch fire before flaming out, some veterans see a renaissance in their career, and some of the biggest bands around continue to push the boundaries of creativity, which is where we’ll begin this examination of some of my favorite albums of 1991.
A New Sound Emerges – Achtung Baby – U2
From the opening notes of the first track on U2’s seventh studio album, it was clear to everyone who heard it that this was not going to be The Joshua Tree Part II. We were hit with the sound of an industrial, grinding guitar, deep drums and bass, along with vocals from Bono that sound echoed and recorded far from the microphone as Zoo Station ushered in a new era for the quartet from Ireland. As I covered in this post about musicians who took risks, U2 was at a crossroads when they recorded Achtung Baby in Germany, struggling to understand the meteoric rise to success they had experienced with the critical and commercial success of The Joshua Tree. They made a documentary film and accompanying album, Rattle and Hum, that featured concert performances and backstage footage of the band on The Joshua Tree tour. I loved Rattle and Hum, but it was seen by many critics and fans to be a self-indulgent exercise and a letdown album. In all honesty, how could anything live up to the success of The Joshua Tree? With Achtung Baby, the band branched out into new and experimental sounds, including a harder-edge (no pun intended) to the guitar recordings, compared to the lighter acoustic guitar heard on their last few records. While the album had a few commercial hits in One, Mysterious Ways, and The Fly, there were some darker tracks, like Until the End of the World and So Cruel, that were just as effective. While U2 would never be considered in the same universe as bands labeled with the “grunge” moniker, the new album certainly had a harder edge compared to their previous work. In fact, I think of Achtung Baby as the band’s Sgt. Pepper – an exercise to push the limits of studio experimentation and demonstrating courage to put a new sound out for their fans. Thirty years later, it’s still timeless.
Bring on the Funk – Blood Sugar Sex Magik – Red Hot Chili Peppers
In early 1991, only dedicated hard-core funk music fans could claim to be closely following the career of Red Hot Chili Peppers. While they achieved some modest success with their fourth album, Mother’s Milk, they weren’t considered a household name. It was their 1991 release, Blood Sugar Sex Magik, that put them on the list of “next big bands” to capitalize on the changing music landscape. The band partnered with Rick Rubin, one of the legendary music producers, who helped shape the band’s talents into a funk rock sound that highlighted something new and innovative at a time when people wanted to move past the sugary pop sound of the 1980s. It was hard to go anywhere in the Fall of 1991 without hearing Give It Away, the lead single from this album, which I frequently heard blasting in the hallways of Baker Hall at UMass. The second single, Under the Bridge, was a more mellow Chili Peppers tune, expanding their appeal across a wider audience, especially capitalizing on the height of music videos on MTV. Blood Sugar Sex Magik is a wild rollercoaster ride of an album, spanning 74 minutes over the course of 18 tracks. Some of the songs are downright silly, but there is some genius on this record, and it brought a very talented set of musicians to the forefront of the music scene.
Metal Goes Mainstream – Metallica (The Black Album) – Metallica
Another band that catapulted from cult-like status to mainstream success in 1991 was Metallica, the hard-rock / metal band who had been building a steady audience over the previous decade. I was never a fan of what I thought of as “speed metal” bands. I phrase it that way, because I’m not sure if it’s even the right term, but bands like Megadeath, Iron Maiden, and Anthrax were ones that I felt made my ears bleed. They just weren’t for me. I had the same impression of Metallica, but I was very wrong. They expanded their fanbase with their fourth album, released in 1988, thanks to a popular music video on MTV for the single, One. But it was their next record, the self-titled Metallica (often referred to as The Black Album given its cover), that pushed them further into the mainstream rock conversation. While I wasn’t enough of a connoisseur of their music to know why this happened, I think it was a function of their evolution from metal band to hard rock band (thus broadening their appeal to people like me), and a fantastic lead single, coupled with a popular video, Enter Sandman. I never thought I would be purchasing a Metallica record, let alone seeing them in concert a year later (more on that in a minute), but the popularity of the released singles, and living with a roommate who was a diehard Metallica fan when this album came out, certainly influenced my interest. It was nice to get exposure to a band I never would have heard otherwise, thanks to an odd confluence of events.
The Flame Burns Out Fast – Use Your Illusion I & II – Guns N’ Roses
Sometimes a band grinds it out for several years and records before gaining mainstream popularity, just like Red Hot Chili Peppers and Metallica. And sometimes, a band comes out of nowhere, captures lightning in a bottle and sells a shit-ton of albums. That was the case with Appetite for Destruction, the 1987 debut from Guns N’ Roses, a Los Angeles-based rock band with excellent musicians and songwriters and one really screwed up lead singer, Axl Rose. The album, along with the singles Welcome to the Jungle, Paradise City, and Sweet Child O’ Mine were massive hits, with Appetite selling 30 million copies since its release. Naturally, the big question was if they could do it again, or fall victim to the “Sophomore Slump.” While they did release an EP of unreleased older songs and a few live songs after their debut, their true second studio effort came in September 1991. I can’t emphasize how high the anticipation was for the follow up to Appetite. I mean, EVERYONE who had any interest in the band couldn’t wait to get their hands on their double album Use Your Illusion I & II, including this guy, who bummed a ride to the local record store in Amherst to pick up my new CDs on the release date.
There are some outstanding rock songs on this effort from the band, particularly Civil War, You Could Be Mine (which served as the theme song to the film Terminator 2: Judgment Day), power rock ballad November Rain, two versions of another rock ballad Don’t Cry (each with different lyrics), and a kickass cover of Paul McCartney’s Live and Let Die. There were definitely a few clunkers on the albums – after all, when you release thirty tracks all at once, they can’t all be great – but collectively, it’s a fantastic time capsule of a band on the rise….Or, so we thought.
Things deteriorated very quickly as their drummer was fired during the recording sessions after he couldn’t kick his drug habit, and their rhythm guitarist (and main songwriter) quit the band after too many riot-inducing dumbass moves by Rose during the long tour to support the albums. I was fortunate to see Guns N’ Roses twice on this tour – once in an arena in the Fall of 1991, and a second time in the Summer of 1992, which was a lifetime concert highlight for me. I went to the show, at the old Foxboro Stadium in Massachusetts, with my college roommate and watched as Metallica and Guns N’ Roses played a double headline set that blew the 60,000+ fans away. We were on the field about 30 rows from the stage, and I have to say, while I wasn’t sure if I was completely safe the entire night (early 1990s mosh pits – look it up), it was an amazing night of music. While Metallica is still grinding it out as a band after forty years together, Guns N’ Roses flamed out quickly, with various starts and stops and numerous lineup changes over the last thirty years. Despite their attempts to stay relevant, they have never recaptured that magic from the late 1980s and early 1990s.
Underappreciated Gems – Woodface – Crowded House / Play – Squeeze
When most people see the band name Crowded House, their natural reaction is probably, “Oh yeah, one-hit wonder band who made Don’t Dream It’s Over.” My reaction? Yes, they did record that beautiful song, but don’t lump them in with the same dustbin of bands who made one-hit wonders of the 1980s like Our House, Safety Dance, and Take on Me. On the contrary, Crowded House was one of those bands that I stayed attached to, long after their debut in 1987. Their third album, Woodface, released in the Summer of 1991, features some fun and catchy pop songs like Chocolate Cake and It’s Only Natural, along with beautiful songs like Weather With You and Four Seasons In One Day. If you’re only familiar with their debut single and want to check out some other great tunes, their greatest hits album, Recurring Dream, captures the best of their work.
Another fun band from the 1980s, albeit one with a lot more popularity, was Squeeze, the English group who mixed easy-to-please melodies with lyrics that alternated between sentimental and silly. Squeeze is probably the best band at fun wordplay, making you do a double take while listening to some of their songs. They are probably best known for some of their earlier work, including the singles Tempted, Black Coffee In Bed, and Pulling Mussels (From the Shell), but their 1991 release, Play, is one of my favorites, with a strong track list from start to finish. The album starts with Satisfied, the first single, a subdued song about a couple’s comfort with just being with each other. All the way through the songs of love and fun times, leading up to Sunday Street, about just trying to get through the work week to have fun with your friends on a weekend, Play is a nice reminder that Squeeze continued to deliver quality music well into the 1990s.
My Sentimental Choice – Luck of the Draw – Bonnie Raitt
I used to care about the Grammys. I mean, almost as much as I (foolishly) care about the Oscars. Deep down, I know it doesn’t matter who wins trophies, but I always found it cool when one of my favorite artists got up on stage to win an award, especially the granddaddy of them all, Album of the Year. In February of 1990, I remember watching the ceremony and rooting for any of the five nominees to win the award, except the one artist I didn’t know. Those four were: Don Henley, Tom Petty, Fine Young Cannibals, and The Traveling Wilburys. I had all of these albums and listened to them over and over again. So, when the winner was announced as Bonnie Raitt for her comeback release, Nick of Time, my reaction was “Who?” Little did I know that she was a celebrated guitarist and singer from the 1970s who had created a masterpiece comeback album that everyone agreed deserved the award. Being a trend follower (not setter), I decided to see what the fuss was all about, and was pleasantly surprised how much I really liked it. Look at that, I found a new artist to listen to.
Flashforward to the Fall of 1991 and I’m a sophomore at UMass, with Raitt’s follow-up album, Luck of the Draw, in my collection. It’s a wonderful collection of songs that showcase Raitt’s combination of fun country guitar sound with soulful singing. Now, in addition to 1991 being a great music year, it was also the year that I met my wife on the third floor of Baker Hall. That’s not when we started dating – that’s a much longer story that will have to be part of a future blog post, perhaps my farewell whenever I run out of writing steam. Although we didn’t become a permanent couple in 1991, we did develop a close friendship and bonded over the lead single from this album, Let’s Give Them Something to Talk About. So, while looking through the list of releases from this year, I naturally smiled when I saw this album on the list – the same smile I get whenever this thirty-year old song randomly plays on the radio.
A Blossoming Career Explodes – Out of Time – R.E.M.
Musicians can take many paths to superstardom. Sometimes they hit it out of the park on their debut album and go even further up from there (See: Swift, Taylor). Sometimes they have a massive hit early on, but struggle to maintain that level of popularity and success (Alanis Morissette comes to mind, although it’s nice to see the renaissance she has had the last few years with a hit Broadway show and new tour). And sometimes a band grinds away on small tours, continuing to refine their songwriting ability and improve their live performances while they slowly gain a cult following. That was the case with R.E.M., who had a very good debut release with Murmur (named by Rolling Stone as the best album of 1983), but sputtered along with their next few releases. They had a decent breakout with 1987’s Document (around the time I discovered their music), thanks to the non-love song The One I Love, and 1988’s Green, thanks to a few more hit singles and a lengthy world tour. But, it would be 1991’s Out of Time that brought their popularity, both critically and commercially, to a new level.
From the time that the debut single, Losing My Religion, began airing on the radio, and when the video started playing non-stop on MTV, it was clear that R.E.M. was now in a whole different league. The band didn’t do themselves any favors with their second single, Shiny Happy People, probably the worst song on the album, but aside from that one, the rest of the record is outstanding. Featuring trademark melodies and inspiring lyrics from Michael Stipe, Out of Time captured the perfect moment of a band on the cusp of greatness with a fanbase looking to embrace something new. For me, this was a fun time to be a fan of R.E.M, watching a band I had recently discovered achieve mainstream success. Out of Time has sold over 18 million copies since its release, catapulting R.E.M. into a whole new world of fame, which I covered in this piece on musicians who took risks, and was one of the nominees for Album of the Year at the Grammys. Once again, I went into that ceremony rooting for R.E.M., Bonnie Raitt, Paul Simon (for the wonderful The Rhythm of the Saints), or even Amy Grant (hey, I kind of liked her album Heart in Motion – guess it was a carryover of my 1980s pop-infused interests.) Anyone but Natalie Cole’s tribute to her father, Unforgettable. Cole fused together her singing alongside his previous recordings from the 1960s. It was quite….Unoriginal (at least that was the joke at the time). Anyway, you can guess who won the Grammy that night – why do I care about these things again?
What Could Have Been – Nevermind – Nirvana
The first word that comes to most people’s minds when they think of rock music in the early 1990s is “grunge”, the label slapped on the talented bands that emerged from Seattle over a very short period of time. Early bands from this era included Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, Smashing Pumpkins, and even Stone Temple Pilots, but there were two bands that took off like rocket ships, within a few months of each other, and have come to define the era of this kind of music. While one band has continued together for over thirty years (we’ll get to them next), tragically one band would only last a few years.
When Smells Like Teen Spirit appeared on MTV in the fall of 1991, it was one of those “Whoa, what is this?” moments. It felt hyperbolic at the time to describe it as one of the biggest moments in music history, but that’s not an exaggeration. If there were indications that change was afoot in the late 1980s and early 1990s, the release of Nirvana’s Nevermind, in September of 1991 put an exclamation point on that idea, and it seemed like the music world changed overnight. Spandex and big hair were traded in for flannel, as the youth of America latched onto a band who played their instruments loudly, and sang about being left behind by the greed-infused 1980s and being tired of feeling like a forgotten generation. The momentum of Nevermind never seemed to end, leading into Nirvana’s next album, In Utero, a decent (albeit disappointing) follow up. But the true genius of the band’s talents was on display with the release of their MTV Unplugged performance, which was recorded only a few months before lead singer and songwriter Kurt Cobain took his own life. Cobain’s death in 1994 was one of those defining celebrity death moments that I vividly remember, especially given the significant impact Nirvana’s music had on my generation. There were feelings of uncertainty about the future for people in the 16 – 22 age group in the early 1990s and Cobain’s music seemed to be speaking for that generation directly to the people running the country, saying “We need to do better – the youth of America are pissed off.” Unfortunately, Cobain was suffering from a crippling drug addiction and serious mental health issues that he couldn’t overcome. As the early 1990s continued to take shape, I grabbed onto another defining band from Seattle, who is still with me to this day.
The Future is Now – Ten – Pearl Jam
The stories of band origins are littered with “What If?” scenarios. What if McCartney and Lennon hadn’t met at that church concert in 1957 where Lennon was performing with The Quarrymen? What if Jagger and Richards hadn’t found each other in school, where they bonded over a common interest in music? Would the trajectory of music as we know it have been changed forever? The seeds of one of my favorite bands were planted with ambition, happenstance, and (tragically) death. When members of the Seattle band Mother Love Bone faced an uncertain future after the death of their lead singer from a drug overdose, they decided to keep playing music, met up with another guitarist, and stumbled upon a cassette that was mailed to them by a very talented singer who recorded vocals over some demos they had made. A few weeks later, a band was formed, they played a debut show, and the band we now know as Pearl Jam was born. They were quickly signed to a contract and recorded their debut album, Ten, which was released a few weeks before Nirvana’s Nevermind.
One of the lasting memories I have during my sophomore year at UMass was the constant playing of Ten and Nevermind, along with the back and forth debates of which band was better. Nirvana seemed to have stronger music, where Pearl Jam had better lyrics. Nirvana seemed to be angrier in some of their songs, but Pearl Jam’s hardest songs also had that tough edge. Both albums had one or two quieter songs, with Pearl Jam’s Black, a particular favorite among fans. It’s funny when you look back on records that meant a lot to you a long time ago and you say, “Yeah, that whole album was fantastic!” In reality, most of them have a few duds, but that’s not the case with Ten. From the opening guitar blast of Once, through the slow, brooding closing song Release (an amazing song live), there is not one bad song on this album. I’m coming up on 4,000 words in this blog (thank you, if you’re still reading), and I could probably write another 4,000 words about this band alone. Suffice it to say, their music means the world to me, and it’s hard to believe that it’s been thirty years since a 19 year-old kid trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life had his mind blown by the musical talents of a band from Seattle. Long live Pearl Jam.
That’s all for this week. Thanks for taking this musical journey down memory lane with me. If you’d like to be notified of future posts, you can subscribe here. See you next week.