And you thought it was just because Eddie Vedder’s parents didn’t give affection…
By Fred Mills
Tonight that repulsive Four Non Blondes song came over the radio, and all that LSD I took in the ’60s… er, I mean, all that angst I weathered in the ’90s bubbled back to the surface. Ay-yi-i-i-i…. sheesh. So I re-pledged to myself that I would finally finish writing my kiss-off to the decade that just about killed off my love of rock ‘n’ roll – that would be the aforementioned ’90s, from which I can list on the proverbial one hand the number of artists I recall with any fondness. All those bands you followed throughout the ’90s? Sorry to rain on your alterna-parade, kids, but you were sold a bill of goods. Or maybe you were just gullible to start with.
Verily, it was the end of the century, as the Ramones put it so succinctly, and to that I’ll simply add that it was also the ASS-end of the century. I will explain why very shortly. Keep your eye on this space. Meanwhile, let us review at least one little fecal-bit of that “why”: