Eels – Novocaine For The Soul
The first hit for the band Eels, Novocaine for the Soul, embodies the mix of joy and dread that defined Gen X in the late nineties. The opening lyrics, “Life is hard and so am I. You better give me something so I don’t die,” capture this sentiment, resonating with some even today, as things haven’t markedly improved since the nineties.
Novocaine for the Soul is clever, distinctive alternative pop, emblematic of the ’90s sound. The song is exceptionally well-written and produced. Its music box intro, which leads into the main riff and the hook “before I sputter out,” showcases Eels as serious songwriters.
The quirky lyrics and the song’s overall pop sound mask the protagonist’s numbness to life’s burdens.
Eels didn’t chart again after Novocaine for the Soul, but their follow-up single, Beautiful Freak, and their 1998 album Electro-Shock Blues are both excellent indie rock releases that explore themes of loss.
Harvey Danger – Flagpole Sitta
Harvey Danger’s Flagpole Sitta is a song that people love to make fun of. In some ways, the song has been treated similarly to many of the more modern Nickelback songs—people say they hate it, yet they know all the words.
The truth is, Flagpole Sitta is an amazing song. In fact, the entire album Where Have All the Merrymakers Gone? is even better than Flagpole Sitta.
The song explores various trends in music and popular culture, highlighting how things come and go quickly. It serves as an allegory for these trends, filled with hyperbole and sexuality to draw attention. In fact, the song’s title references one of the trends the band is poking fun at: flagpole sitting, a 1920s fad where people would climb up flagpoles for attention.
The lyrics, “Paranoia, paranoia, everybody’s coming to get me, just say you never met me, I’m running underground with the moles, digging holes,” perfectly capture the theme of fast-moving culture.
For those who bought the CD in the ’90s, it was one of those moments when someone purchased the album for the song they saw on MTV or heard on the radio, only to realize that the entire album was great.
Portishead – Sour Times
Sour Times is eerie, but not in a way that makes you want to run away from it. The song draws you in. Beth Gibbons pulls you in with her vocals, as Portishead combines melancholy and beauty in a single song.
The song was the second single from Portishead’s debut album, Dummy, and the band’s breakout hit. Sour Times blends film noir with hip-hop-inspired production. The light bells that chime throughout the background made it unlike anything on the radio in the early ’90s, which was awash with the Seattle sound.
Local H – Bound For The Floor
Local H is one of the most underappreciated bands of its era. To be a bit selfish, we at 90sAlt.com are kind of glad they never achieved the commercial success many bands dream of. Watching them perform in smaller venues to this day preserves the spirit of the nineties that we enjoy.
The opening guitar riff is gritty and memorable, and the band drills it into your head. It’s catchy and filled with nineties angst. While it also introduced many people to the word copacetic, it conveys the message of youth growing older while dealing with an unfair society.
The song embodies raw energy and emotion while remaining authentic and connecting with listeners even years after its release. Bound for the Floor is unvarnished rock and deserves a spot on your nineties playlist.
Pavement – Cut Your Hair
If you were to call Pavement’s “Cut Your Hair” a one-hit wonder, it would be in the same sense that the Butthole Surfers were a one-hit wonder with “Pepper.” Pavement is a highly influential band within their niche; they have a dedicated cult fanbase that cemented their place in the 90s underground music scene.
“Cut Your Hair” could be interpreted in two different ways. On one hand, it might reflect the story of a bad breakup, as the song begins with a tale of a girl and a failed relationship. On the other hand, it could be seen as commentary on the decline of hair metal in the early 90s, coinciding with the rise of grunge and alternative rock as dominant genres.
It’s also entirely possible that Pavement’s lead singer doesn’t even know what the song is truly about. What we do know, however, is that the track captures raw emotion through a sound that is not only sloppy and seemingly random but also undeniably masterful.
The Refreshments – Banditos
“Banditos,” from The Refreshments’ 1995 album Fizzy Fuzzy Big & Buzzy, is a forgotten gem for some and a mid-90s classic for others.
The song stems from frontman Roger Clyne’s experiences as a broke college student, dreaming of escaping to Mexico after robbing a convenience store like 7-Eleven or Circle K. It was written with friends during a lighthearted jam session, which is how playful references to Star Trek characters found their way into the lyrics.
“Banditos” explores themes of trust, blending them with humor to create a song that remains a fan favorite to this day. While The Refreshments are no longer together as a band, Roger Clyne continues to perform this song with his current group, Roger Clyne & The Peacemakers.
Sponge – Molly (16 Candles Down The Drain)
Song only a few may be familiar with, “Molly” by Sponge is sure to make the lyrics come to mind the minute one actually hears it. The title holds homage to Molly Ringwald, the star of the 1984 film Sixteen Candles, as portrayed in the song’s refrain, “Sixteen candles down the drain.”
But the story recounted through the song hints nothing of what the John Hughes classic may speak to. Rather, it’s about a girl who fell in love with one of her teachers before turning sixteen; after being rejected, she decided to end her own life.
Vinnie Dombroski, lead singer for the band Sponge, has since stated that the song was in part inspired by the death of one of his band members and that Molly was a real person he had met. Therein lies the infusion of two parallel tales into one narrative.
“Molly” peaked at number three on the Modern Rock chart and reached number eleven on the Mainstream Rock Tracks chart back in 1995.
Tripping Daisy – My Umbrella
My Umbrella is pure ’90s alternative rock: clever, offbeat, even downright arty lyrics, mixed with a gloriously hook-filled tune. In all, the track delivers quintessential Tripping Daisy bombast from their 1992 album, Bill, addressing the juxtaposition of tortured flights of fancy with youthful and untamed energy. All jangly guitar riffs and whimsical vocal delivery, buoyant exuberance, and experimentation, “My Umbrella” is all of this and represented the band’s lifelong purpose throughout the era: familiar and radically different—unmistakably the trademark of that genius of a band.
My Umbrella is willfully eccentric. With bright voices and emotive performances, Tim DeLaughter paints new, kaleidoscopic sound worlds springing forth innumerable bursts of color and feeling into the listeners. Plenty of mystique pops through the lyrics, limited but macroscopic for interpretation. The umbrella could entail mere borders, discrete separation, or a fancy kind of protection to allow fans to restore their value to it.
Musically, the composition rocks on with jangly guitar lines that sock you on the good spots, kaleidoscopic drumming patterns, and DeLaughter’s intense vocal focus. It’s presumably a bit raw but gives that slightly informal live unfiltered feel. Every ounce is the document of the experimental training of Tripping Daisy, with scope shifts in tonal tempo and mood, subjecting listeners to without-quitting contagiousness, with a slight, circumspect improvisation of bridging sequential sections, followed by an army-strong repeat-infusion into that spine tingling course.
Classic formula more so than a track, hence, My Umbrella continues holding sound within a bouquet of Tripping Daisy, somewhere built in a dark place known in the alternative rock scene of the ’90s. Strange, krinkly, always exciting, fans even think about it contained, as both lose pay-homie on occasion, while thoughts exist as imagination’s shards traversing over it—perhaps, on and off. Only one remained—this simple spark through vague play, belied by its whimsically-time-eviking beat as time itself.
Urge Overkill – Sister Havana
Urge Overkill’s Sister Havana seamlessly interweaves the rudiments of glam rock and the coalescent bait of alternative rock. With its being the second single of Saturation, released in ’93, this song marks a dramatic personality change in the band’s sound. Urge Overkill combines gritty guitar riffs reminiscent of grunge-era rock with the highly polished production style of pure ’80s glam rock. The result is something fresh, vibrant, and at once deeply rooted in the poising tradition of two sharp musical wavelengths.
It’s edgy, yes. More importantly, it strikes the right would-be mainstream balance of dying of underground sounds filtering through the basement bands back then. Sister Havana is full-blooded pulsating electric energy that implores the listener’s full attentiveness from first to last through driving rhythms with their rallying hooks.
There are many ways to interpret the lyrics. Wide open to suggestion, Sister Havana is often considered in part a commentary on the hedonism and “bad boys” attitudes of rock stars of the time because it embodies good-natured defiance. Frontman Nash Kato sings the lyrics expressively, which suit the song’s high-energy bravura. He succeeds admirably at carrying the song’s full paint style forward, bringing it to life with extra vigor and authenticity.
Sister Havana is recognized as one of Urge Overkill’s finest portrayals, marrying style, substance, and attitude to perfection. This stood out in the 1990s with their slight twist to musical innovation, while continuing to hold true till date. Decades later, the song’s contagious hooks and rude energy are still just as compelling as they were at first release, earning a forever footprint on the bloated alternative rock landscape.
Abra Moore – Four Leaf Clover
There was another side to the ’90s: a folksy singer-songwriter style of music that took many roots. Painters like Tori Amos, Fiona Apple, and others less remembered, like Abra Moore, defined the sound.
A founding member of Poi Dog Pondering, Moore took the group’s move to Texas in the late ’80s as stepping off to pursue a solo career, resulting in her debut, Strangest Places, which was released in 1997 and scored her hit with “Four Leaf Clover.”
“Four Leaf Clover” received considerable radio airplay in the Midwest and even made dub appearances on VH1 and MTV2, although not very frequently. It broke into the top 13 on the U.S. Adult Album Alternative Chart.
“Four Leaf Clover” is an ode to mother’s child-like sensibilities wrapped in the heart. Its lyricis an indelible thought of love, happiness, and yearning for lost love although it is usually interpreted as a sacred feeling searching out a rare jewel. Moore’s lyrics achieve a nice blend between poetic images and relatable emotions-those of really anybody chasing after their dreams or the perfect relationship.
Though it may be one of those songs from the decade that everyone forgets, it still remains steadfastly planted in the folk-pop scene of the late ’90s. It’s a reminder of what a long good chase in life is–in search of something real and hard to find.