As I was indulging my 90’s nostalgia, by melodically lamenting my loser status worthy of death, I wondered to myself, “Did Beck make this nonsense because they had a catchy tune they knew everyone would sing along to regardless of how ridiculous the lyrics are?”
Then I got to thinking of some other songs lacking significance to sheltered pre-pubescent me. For example:
Possum Kingdom, by the Toadies.
99% of the discography by Radiohead.
If I were one of those retrospective history-revisionists who like to make myself look like I was a really precocious kid, I would say “MMmyes… I knew right away at age 14 that Lakini’s Juice was about leaving the dogmatic Platonic cave of Christianity that you were born into and finding spirituality on your own through illumination of the mind.” The problem with that, though, is I’m still not much smarter since that time when I also didn’t get it.
If anything, I’ve gotten dumber since Google started doing all my critical thinking for me – just like when I turned all my clothes pink Freshman year of college because my mom had always done my laundry without teaching me how. Or when I stayed in the bathtub all night because she never taught me how to wash myself. Or brush my hair. Or wipe my ass.
#more90snostalgia
And speaking of ass, I still dunno what the Butthole Surfers were talking about. But tunes like theirs were catchy enough to make me want to sing along, regardless of what the message is. Not much different than comedians who fluff your mental genitals with chuckles before surfing that serotonin wave of yours with their soapbox motives. Because maybe if I’d known back then WTF the meanings were sans the sexy sounds and thrilling imagery of metaphors, it may have seemed either weird or boring. But since we remember the way ish makes us feel more than the actual message, I liked the tunes first… and then I liked the message later. And if I didn’t like the messages when I learned them, I’d find a way to do that partially-agree thing with them.
Maybe that’s why I feel weed should be legal even though I personally find it sensory genocide in every way.
Because this little ditty below is pretty much the best thing ever (albeit in shitty quality). TRY to whistle this and retain your case of the Monday-through-Thursdays mood.
I dare you.
And as for my retro faves, I kinda still don’t want to know the deep meaning for most. Anyway, I am 90% sure that 90% of 90s tunes were about taking drugs (see: NIN) and 20% were about coming down from them (see: Tool).
But I would like to know how many distracted drivers have died singing:
“…I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?”