Pulp

Sound Familiar?

“Common People,” “Disco 2000,” “This Is Hardcore”

Who Are They?

The Britpop band that rode the waves made by Blur and Oasis, but was--in fact--the most original.

When you think of the Britpop explosion of the mid-‘90s, what are the first bands that come to mind? Oasis? Blur? Maybe even Suede?

Among all these one-name bands from across the pond, there was Pulp, making music way before the Gallagher brothers exchanged their first “fuck yous.” Formed in 1978, Pulp’s musical style mirrored the Sheffield sound (electronic New Wave, like The Human League). Their first album, It, was released in 1983 and largely consisted of romantic pop songs influenced by Leonard Cohen.

The album was a commercial failure, leading founder and vocalist Jarvis Cocker to throw a hissy fit and threaten to break up the band. After a handful of lineup changes, Pulp was signed to Fire Records in 1985. (Fun fact: Soon after signing to the label, Jarvis fell out of a window while trying to impress a girl with his Spider-Man impersonation. He had to use a wheelchair for a while, which he proudly performed in onstage.)

The next release (1987’s Freaks) failed to meet Jarvis’ standards, but bassist Steve Mackey, who joined the band in 1989, introduced Jarvis to the magical world of house music, pulling Pulp into a more dance-oriented direction.

The band left Fire Records and signed to Island Records, which proved to be a good move. Once His ‘n’ Hers dropped in 1994, Jarvis finally began experiencing the success he has so desperately craved since Day 1. Pulp ultimately had their first Top 40 hit with “Do You Remember the First Time?,” an ode to popping the cherry. (Fun fact: A short film was produced to promote the track. It consisted of a series of interviews with fans and celebrities describing their “first times.”)

Pulp’s success was due in part to the massive media interest in Britpop and the moderately huge single “Common People” from 1995’s magnum opus, Different Class. The album was pretty dark compared to (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? or even Parklife. Jarvis’ lyrics were highly sexualized, and the single “Sorted for E’s and Wizz” became a lightning rod for “pro-drugs” accusations.

Despite all the controversy (or maybe because of it), Different Class garnered immense critical praise and catapulted Pulp into their own little spotlight (I can’t say the spotlight because they were kind of overshadowed by all the other Britpop bands). (And another fun fact: At the 1996 BRIT Awards, Jarvis invaded the stage during Michael Jackson’s performance of “Earth Song” and “wiggled his backside” at the audience. Michael was pissed and Jarvis ended up spending the night in Kensington Police Station charged with actual bodily harm and assaulting the child performers. The charges were later dropped.)

After the circus that was the Different Class era, the band began to disintegrate. Jarvis developed a cocaine addiction and key member Russell Senior ditched the group. This Is Hardcore, released in 1998, mirrored the band’s real-life struggles, touching on even darker subject matter than its predecessor. (You don’t have a dirty mind for thinking the title track is a reference to porn. It really is.)

Where Are They Now?

Reemerging from a hiatus for a new tour!

Pulp released one last album (2001’s We Love Life) before calling it quits. To no one’s surprise, Jarvis became the most successful member after the breakup. He’s released a couple solo albums and the BBC is basically in love with him.

Jarvis also ventured into acting, lending his voice to Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox (as Petey) and playing the lead singer of The Weird Sisters in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. How can you not love this man?

Bassist Steve Mackey has also been busy. He’s produced tracks for M.I.A. and Florence + The Machine.

Pulp reunited in 2010, playing various festivals in the UK and touring Europe and Australia in 2011. They co-headlined the Reading Festival and the Leeds Festival with The Strokes in August 2011.

But Why Pulp?

Though they’ve been back together and touring the UK for a couple years now, Pulp is making an appearance at this year’s Coachella Festival, the first show in the US in a decade.

What Does Sam Think?

Out of all the musical movements of the ‘90s, Britpop has always seemed the stalest to me. I like Blur, but I have a love-hate relationship with Oasis. (My love for Radiohead is irrelevant because they really had nothing to do with Britpop).

But Pulp kind of changed my mind. They played disco-influenced pop rock songs with ridiculously sexualized subject matter. My confession: I love disco. And sexy songs. I love sexy disco songs. No shame.

Pulp can definitely hold its own with a sound like that. Different Class is such a fun record, even if it does take a dark turn. Listening to “Common People” just brings a smile to my face. It’s like the disco version of “Wonderwall.” It makes you want to grab that boy/girl of your dreams and dance the night away (and maybe grind a little when no one is watching).

Their darker material (anything from This Is Hardcore) isn’t exactly party music, but it’s got a lot of soul. Jarvis’ demons drive the record, but Pulp’s signature sound isn’t lost at all. The darkness actually makes things more interesting. And writing a song about the porn industry also helps.

If you’ve never listened to Pulp before, you’re definitely missing out. Even if the mere mention of disco makes you cringe, give this band a chance. You may find yourself breaking out the platforms and spandex and having your own little “disco inferno.”

-- Sam Boyer, reporting from the ‘90s.

The Cranberries

Sound Familiar?

“Linger,” “Dreams,” “Zombie”

Who Are They?

Irish hit-makers who sold more albums than all of your favorite ‘90s bands combined.

Before the British invasion of the mid to late ‘90s (courtesy of bands like Oasis and Blur), a few guys from Ireland decided to start a band. In 1989, brothers Mike and Noel Hogan formed The Cranberry Saw Us, the first incarnation of the group we all know and love. In order to become The Cranberries, original singer Niall Quinn had to beat it to make room for Dolores O’Riordan.

The reason to hire Dolores? She auditioned with a rough version of a little song called “Linger.” Perhaps you’ve heard of it?

With a new singer and a new name (Dolores made the executive decision to switch to The Cranberries), the four-piece recorded a demo tape and made sure it spread all over the UK. Soon, they were signed to Island Records and released their debut album, Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?, in 1993.

“Dreams,” the first single, was released a year prior to the album. Surprisingly, neither song nor album garnered much attention. It wasn’t until they started touring with Suede that The Cranberries caught the attention of MTV. The power MTV wielded in the ‘90s was pretty impressive (music television? Imagine that!), so once the video for the second single “Linger” was put into heavy rotation, everyone and their mother knew The Cranberries.

The airplay on MTV catapulted Everybody Else Is Doing It to #1 on the UK Album Chart and paved the way for the band’s second, more successful offering, No Need to Argue in 1994. How much more successful? Well, the album went triple platinum within a year and spawned the number one hit “Zombie.”

Unfortunately, the novelty of an obviously Irish band began to wear off after the release of To the Faithful Departed in 1996. Critics loved it, but audiences didn’t dig it as much. Faithful did manage to squeeze out one last number one hit for The Cranberries (“Salvation”), so it wasn’t a total waste.

By the time Bury the Hatchet was released in 1999, rumors of Dolores’ impending solo career began to swirl. Everyone knew that The Cranberries were nearing the end, but no one was willing to admit it.

Where Are They Now?

Reunited and it feels so good! (You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve wanted to use that reference in one of these entries).

Wake Up and Smell the Coffee (released in 2001) was the last gasping breath from our Irish heroes before their hiatus in 2003. The Cranberries finished up the biggest tour of their careers in July 2000 and went on to open for The Rolling Stones in 2003.

Even though they teased fans with new material during those early-2000s shows, the hiatus came before the release of a sixth studio album.

Dolores released her solo album Are You Listening? in 2007, while her bandmates started new projects (Mono Band and The Low Network, among others). The (inevitable) reunion occurred in January 2009 in celebration of Dolores becoming an Honorary Patron of University Philosophical Society (Trinity College, Dublin).

First came a North American/European tour and the continuous denial of a new album. Two years later: “Just kidding, guys. We were recording a new album the whole time.”

But Why The Cranberries?

That new album that they refused to tell us about is called Roses and it drops on Feb. 27. Mark your calendars, kids.

What Does Sam Think?

I’d like to make a confession: I love bands with heavy accents. Admit it, you do, too. If you can listen to “Zombie” without immediately falling in love with Dolores O’Riordan’s sultry Irish crooning, there must be something seriously wrong with you.

Accent fetish aside, I love The Cranberries. Everyone loves The Cranberries. Your mother probably loves The Cranberries. Seriously. Go ask her. She’ll start singing “Linger” and you’ll get uncomfortable and feel embarrassed for her.

There’s a reason why this band was so huge in the ‘90s. Yes, they had catchy tunes, but they also infused that marketable alternative sound with a little Celtic fire. Americans love European exports. Anything that doesn’t remind us of baseball and apple pie is on another level, man. (Sorry. The snark is heavy today.)

The Cranberries had what bands like Oasis and Blur had: mainstream appeal and foreign intrigue. They weren’t foreign in the sense that they spoke another language (they didn’t anyway). They were foreign to us because they weren’t part of the dominating “Seattle sound.” Everybody Else Is Doing It came out when grunge was still a thing, yet it crushed the competition. That’s impressive.

Aside from the foreign appeal, the band was just plain talented. Whenever I hear “Zombie” or “Linger,” I just feel like everything is going to be a-okay. Maybe it’s the nostalgia embedded in my soul, or maybe this snarky blogger actually has a heart. Either way, The Cranberries owned the ‘90s and they’ve got a fan in me.

-- Sam Boyer, reporting from the ‘90s.

Nada Surf

Sound Familiar?
“Popular”

Who Are They?

One of many one-hit-wonder bands of the late ‘90s, yet one of the few one-timers to stick with making music.

The year was 1992: a time when grunge is at the top of its game and Sir Mix-A-Lot graced the airwaves with his ode to the booty. Nada Surf was just a garage-rock dream shared by guitarist/vocalist Matthew Caws and bassist Daniel Lorca at that point. It wasn’t a serious venture for either of them until Ira Elliot (formerly of the Fuzztones) joined the party.

Upon becoming a trio, the boys scored a gig at the Knitting Factory and just happened to run into former Cars frontman (and Weezer producer) Ric Ocasek. They gave him their demo tape, thought they didn’t expect much more than a smile and an empty promise of, “Yeah, I’ll give it a listen.”

Three weeks later, Ric called and offered to produce the band’s first album. Believe it or not, that was bad timing for our heroes. Nada Surf had been finalizing a contract with Elektra Records at the time. Ultimately, negotiations with the record company didn’t pan out (probably due to some Ocasek witchcraft), so Ric connected the band with Maverick Records. The result was 1996’s High/Low, which yielded the first and most successful single “Popular.”

During the summer of 1996, Nada Surf toured the US with fellow one-hit-wonders Superdrag. Meanwhile, “Popular” was gaining momentum and ended up becoming a summer anthem. The band toured overseas and released a follow-up (The Proximity Effect) in Europe in 1998. When record execs couldn’t find a radio-friendly single on the album (and Nada Surf refused to write another “Popular”), the band got the boot.

Nada Surf spent the remainder of the decade struggling to get the rights over The Proximity Effect, which they finally won in 2000.

Where Are They Now?

Newly independent and jonesing for a comeback.

After being booted from their record label, Nada Surf took three-year break from music. Matthew, Daniel, and Ira took regular day jobs to pay the bills. In 2001, they got back together to record Let Go, produced by a couple close friends of the band and paid for in $1 and $5 bills. The single “Inside of Love” received decent airplay, but was nowhere near as successful as “Popular.”

Two studio albums later, Nada Surf seemed to all but disappear from the face of the earth. Until now.

But Why Nada Surf?

The ‘90s alterna-kids are releasing their seventh studio album, The Stars Are Indifferent to Astronomy, on Jan. 24. Check out the first single!

What Does Sam Think?

The ‘90s were riddled with one-hit-wonders like Nada Surf, especially in the latter half of the decade. Oddly enough, those random songs by artists you can never quite remember the names of are the ones that stick with you. Face it, people get way more nostalgic over “Baby Got Back” than any Radiohead tune.

Considering the importance of these songs, let’s dissect “Popular,” shall we?

The song begins with a group of girls gossiping about another girl “going steady” with some football player named Johnny. Through spoken-word verses, Matthew Caws gives us the lowdown on how to break up with someone in the most “high school” sense of the phrase.

There’s part 1 of the appeal. This is a song about high school relationships (with emphasis on cliques and popularity, hence the title). But it doesn’t glorify high school in any sense. It’s bitterly sarcastic. Just look at the these lines from the last verse:

I think if you’re ready to go out with Johnny
Now’s the time to tell him about your one month limit
He won’t mind, he’ll appreciate your fresh look on dating
And once you’ve dated someone else, you can date him again
I’m sure he’ll like it
Everyone will appreciate it
You’re so novel, what a good idea

This, my friends, is exactly what every ‘90s high school outcast was thinking. And it’s probably still relevant.

Part 2 of the appeal is the chorus. We go from spoken-word sarcasm to a catchy, Weezer-esque melody. This is just proof that not every one-hit-wonder has to be about a girl’s ass (though it does help).

Now about Nada Surf as a band. I applaud them for standing up against the big bad record company when they were being bullied into making another hit (You go, Nada Surf!). But now they just kind of fade into that generic alternative band category. They’re not bad, but they’re not spectacular. As silly as it seems, they’re missing that ‘90s angst, as evidenced in “Popular.”

I wouldn’t call myself a huge fan of Nada Surf, but it’s great to see a band continuing on in the music business, even without finding much mainstream success.

-- Sam Boyer, reporting from the '90s.

Neutral Milk Hotel

Sound Familiar?

“In the Aeroplane Over the Sea,” “Holland, 1945”

Who Are They?

The king of indie bands (and carrot flowers).

For most casual ‘90s enthusiasts (those who own the odd compilation album and are aware of the existence of Nirvana), the name Neutral Milk Hotel doesn’t ring a bell. Not recognizing the name isn’t a criminal offense. I’m not gonna go all Pitchfork on your ass and berate your taste in music just because you’ve never heard “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea.” What I will do is give you the lowdown on the magic created by Jeff Mangum.

In the early ‘90s, Jeff began experimenting with music in the band The Olivia Tremor Control, and later recorded some of his own stuff under the name Milk. Neutral Milk Hotel began as just a recording project for Jeff as he wandered the country jobless, homeless and the epitome of the phrase “starving artist.”

It wasn’t until after the release of Everything Is (a 4-song EP) and On Avery Island that NMH became a full-fledged band. Before that, it was just Jeff and some other guys who happened to be hanging around. Julian Koster, Scott Spillane, and Jeremy Barnes joined the party as permanent members and work on the follow-up to Avery Island began in 1996.

The masterpiece In the Aeroplane Over the Sea was released in 1998 to high praise from critics and almost no response from the public (everyone must have been too busy listening to “My Heart Will Go On” for the millionth time).

Aeroplane definitely stood out with its inventive instrumentation (I’m pretty sure NMH is one of the only bands to use a singing saw) and passionate (albeit confusing) lyrics. As the legend goes, Jeff’s inspiration for the album stemmed from reading The Diary of Anne Frank. Although he has never confirmed that Aeroplane is all about her, it’s still a pretty popular theory.

Not even a year after the album’s release, Jeff became disenchanted with the music business (a plague that seems to haunt most ‘90s artists) and the band went on an indefinite hiatus. In a decidedly Cobain-esque move, Jeff went into hiding, only reemerging for the odd private show.

Where Are They Now?

No longer a band, although Jeff keeps the memory alive.

While Jeff was in hiding, his bandmates started projects of their own. All three of them continue to release music under different names (Julian as The Music Tapes, Scott as The Gerbils, and Jeremy as A Hawk and a Hacksaw).

In 2005, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea was re-released by Domino Records and re-evaluated by critics. Pitchfork gave it an almost unheard of 10/10 rating. Can we just stop and take that in? That’s on par with Harry Potter riding a unicorn into Oz. This doesn’t happen every day, folks.

Jeff has become an infamous recluse for about a decade. He’s played a handful of private shows across the US, but no new recordings have surfaced.

But Why Neutral Milk Hotel?

Why, indeed? Well, Jeff Mangum is still alive. His latest appearance was at the All Tomorrow’s Parties Festival (yes, a festival) in the UK this past weekend. He also started a new website where he’s self-releasing a box set of Neutral Milk Hotel albums and unreleased tracks, but no new material as of right now.

Because the man is apparently an enigma (and cameras seem to be scarce at all his shows), I can only give you a taste of one of his live performances.

What Does Sam Think?

I’ll try my best to make this comprehensible (but I can’t make any promises).

I will admit that I have not been a Neutral Milk Hotel fan since the beginning. I had only heard the name mentioned by just about every music publication on the face of the earth. After some vigorous recommendations (or threats, rather) from friends, I finally gave this mysterious band a try.

And magic greeted my ears in the form of In the Aeroplane Over the Sea’s title track.

It’s very rare for me to immediately like a band upon first listen. It usually takes me a few tries to get into new music (see my love affair with Animal Colllective). However, NMH impressed me beyond reason.

So I’m sure you’re sitting here asking yourself, “What makes this band so damn special?” It’s difficult for me to give you a straight answer, so I’ll smash all my jumbled thoughts into this cliché expression: They’re so wrong, they’re right.

The distortion is almost oppressive, the horn section wavers in and out of tune, the lyrics make no sense, and Jeff’s voice leaves something to be desired. I don’t know if it’s sheer talent or just plain witchcraft, but all these seemingly atrocious qualities all work in the band’s favor.

If you forget everything you think you know about good music, you can hear the raw acoustics, the strange and subtle variation in instrumentation, and the pure emotions flowing from Jeff’s carefully constructed words.

I do acknowledge the fact that NMH isn’t for everyone. If you don’t like it, even after multiple attempts to like it, that doesn’t mean you have terrible taste in music. But once you “get” it, you’re hooked for life.

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea is a beautiful album (as is On Avery Island) and Jeff Mangum is truly an artist. And I’m not just saying that because I’m a Mangum fangirl (although that may be part of the reason).

Still not convinced this band belongs on “best of” lists all over the Internet? Consider this: without Jeff Mangum and Neutral Milk Hotel, you probably wouldn’t have Franz Ferdinand or Arcade Fire.

--Sam Boyer, reporting from the ‘90s.

Red Hot Chili Peppers

Sound Familiar?

“Give It Away,” “Under the Bridge,” “Scar Tissue”

Who Are They?

Those crazy Californian funk rock mofos who aren’t afraid to show off their, erm, socks.

In the beginning (or 1983), there was Tony Flow & the Miraculously Majestic Masters of Mayhem. Founding members Anthony Kiedis, Michael “Flea” Balzary, Hillel Slovak, and Jack Irons played their first show under this catchy name. The gig was only supposed to be a one-time thing since Hillel and Jack had day jobs with a band called What Is This?, but the crowd went nuts for them (probably due to some intense improvisation and Anthony rapping a poem he wrote.) So after a quick name change to Red Hot Chili Peppers, the boys booked some more shows and eventually got noticed by EMI.

Hillel and Jack still considered RHCP as a side project, so they quit to focus on What Is This? (and I’m sure they’re so happy with that decision now.) That was no biggie for Anthony and Flea, who recruited new members Cliff Martinez on drums and Jack Sherman on guitar just in time to record their first self-titled album in 1984.

The album didn’t sell, but airplay on college radio and MTV (ah, the good ol’ days) helped the Chili Peppers establish a fan base. During the tour, however, Anthony and Jack Sherman locked horns over where the band was going musically and Jack got the boot. Hillel took his place, but only because he was tired of What Is This? (or perhaps he just had a good feeling about this Chili Peppers thing).

The legendary George Clinton produced the band’s follow-up, 1985’s Freaky Styley. He helped the boys harness that funk power we all know and love, but yet again, the album just wouldn’t sell.

By 1986, Anthony and Hillel were battling serious heroin addictions. EMI gave RHCP a budget of $5,000 to record a demo tape, but Hillel and producer Keith Levene decided to set aside $2,000 of that budget for heroin and cocaine. Cliff couldn’t deal with all the drug abuse going down, but refused to quit, so Anthony and Flea fired him.

After Anthony’s short stint in rehab, the band recorded The Uplift Mofo Party Plan, released in 1987. Anthony was so happy he turned back to drugs to celebrate after just 50 days of sobriety. Hillel followed him into the drug underworld, but didn’t make it out alive. His death in 1988 shook the band to the point where Jack left to join Pearl Jam.

But Anthony and Flea decided to continue with RHCP in memory of their fallen friend. After several auditions, they settled on John Frusciante and Chad Smith. The first album with the new lineup was 1989’s Mother’s Milk, which ended up being infinitely more successful than the previous three efforts.

After a label switch to Warner Bros. and a producer switch to Rick Rubin, the Chili Peppers got this crazy idea to record their next album in the Harry Houdini’s (supposedly haunted) mansion. Don’t try to tell me that’s not coolest idea you’ve ever heard.

The resulting masterpiece was Blood Sugar Sex Magik, which unfortunately shared a release date with another masterpiece by the name of Nevermind. Nonetheless, the Chili Peppers rocketed to fame, grabbing Grammys and VMAs on the way. But John just wasn’t digging this sudden popularity. He quit in the middle of the 1992 tour and was eventually replaced by Jane’s Addiction guitarist Dave Navarro.

Dave stayed on board for Woodstock ’94, a tour with the Rolling Stones, and One Hot Minute. Despite the commercial success of One Hot Minute, Dave left in 1998 and the rest of the band fell into a rut. Meanwhile, John was dealing with a serious heroin addiction, which left him in poverty and near death. He eventually checked into rehab and upon completion of the program, decided to reunite with the Chili Peppers.

Now one big happy family once more, the band released the immensely popular Californication in 1999. They ended the decade with an appearance at the disastrous Woodstock ’99, a festival infamous for the inferno caused by angry concertgoers (this is why we can’t have nice things like Woodstock anymore).

Where Are They Now?

Still a funky force in the music world, sans Frusciante.

Immediately following the tour for Californication, the band set to work on 2001’s follow-up, By the Way. The recording process left Flea feeling a little left out. He was engaged in a musical power struggle with John, who had radically different ideas about the band’s sound. While Flea still wanted to bring the funk, John felt that the funk had been worn out and wanted to create more melodic songs. Flea considered quitting, but ultimately everything worked out nicely.

The double album (and to me, double disappointing) Stadium Arcadium was released in 2006. But since I have no authority in the music world, Stadium Arcadium ended up winning five Grammys, including Best Rock Album and Best Rock Song for “Dani California.”

Because of the nonstop touring and recording since Californication, the Chili Peppers took a much-deserved break in 2008. Anthony released an autobiography, Flea started taking music theory classes at the University of Southern California, Chad worked with the supergroup Chickenfoot, and John released a solo album.

Once the hiatus ended, John revealed that he was leaving yet again. Josh Klinghoffer, who was originally the band’s backup touring guitarist, replaced him and work began on the new album.

But Why Red Hot Chili Peppers?

Their tenth studio album, I’m With You, dropped last month and they’re also on the ballot for the 2012 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductions. In other words, life’s pretty damn good for these guys.

And check out the '70s porn 'stache Anthony's sporting.

What Does Sam Think?

Before I whine about how much I miss John Frusciante, let me just say this band is mega talented. Something that initially came off as strange and unmarketable turned into a huge commercial success. Sure, they had to compete with the grunge trend in the early ‘90s, but they didn’t fade into the background. Out of all the major bands to come to fruition in this crazy decade I obsess over, RHCP is among the most successful (along with the likes of Pearl Jam, Radiohead, and Green Day). You may not like their new stuff (I know I don’t), but you can’t deny that these guys are still relevant almost 30 years after their formation.

So let’s take a step away from their longevity and look at their sound. The Chili Peppers are primarily funk masters, mostly due to Flea’s insane bass skills. (If you haven’t noticed, I love bass. Hence why I’m such a huge Primus geek.) Anthony is a great songwriter and he’s got the personality and stage presence of Mick Jagger and Steven Tyler’s lovechild.

But I think it took John’s technical prowess to harness all this energy. He wasn’t familiar with funk when he joined the band, so what did he do? He found a way to blend his own melodic style with the rest of the band’s free-form approach. I’m not saying Anthony, Flea, and Chad ran around in a sugar-induced haze while John tried to corral them into the studio. John helped by giving them a new element to work with, which contributed to a much more original sound. Just listen to the differences between The Uplift Mofo Party Plan and Blood Sugar Sex Magik.

You can even hear a difference between Blood Sugar Sex Magik and One Hot Minute. Despite appearances, Dave Navarro is a great guitarist, but his style just wasn’t right for RHCP. And I don’t mean to write off Josh Klinghoffer either. I just feel that John was the perfect fit.

That said, this new album really isn’t doing it for me. I was already disappointed with Stadium Arcadium, but I’m With You deviates way too much from the Chili Peppers’ signature sound. And while it’s always great for bands to experiment and try new things (and perhaps go through new members), sometimes it just doesn’t work.

--Sam Boyer, reporting from the '90s.

Primus

Sound Familiar?

“John the Fisherman,” “Jerry Was a Race Car Driver,” “Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver”

Who Are They?

Musical connoisseurs of cheese, pudding, and pork. (Mmm. Steamy.)

If that made no sense to you, you are obviously not a Primus fan. And you also need some schoolin’.

Primus (or Primate, as they were known back in 1984) was a little project started by bassist Les Claypool, guitarist Todd Huth, and a drum machine. Citing artistic differences, the drum machine split and was replaced by Vince “Perm” Parker, and later Tim “Curveball” Wright. After about 187593432 other drummers joined and left the band within a span of about two years, Tim “Herb” Alexander got comfortable behind the kit. Then Todd left and Larry “Ler” LaLonde stepped in to complete what most fans claim to be the ideal Primus lineup.

Claypool and company’s first album was actually a live recording from two Berkeley concerts called Suck On This, released in 1989. Their first studio album was 1990’s Frizzle Fry. It may have been the super rad vibes coming from Frizzle Fry, or the fact that they were touring with the one and only Jane’s Addiction, that got Interscope Records mighty interested in Primus. Whatever the reason, the boys signed to the big bad major label and released 1991’s follow-up Sailing the Seas of Cheese. (And yes, every Primus album has a completely ridiculous name.)

Seas of Cheese singles “Jerry Was a Race Car Driver” and “Tommy the Cat” got Primus noticed pretty quickly. They toured with the likes of Rush, U2, Anthrax, and Public Enemy, and even made a cameo in Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey. Whoa, dude! Excellent!

Pork Soda, released in 1993, didn’t fare as well. Perhaps the always delightful themes of murder, suicide, and alienation rubbed audiences the wrong way, or they were just scared away by the video for “Mr. Krinkle.” (Watch it. The pig getup will haunt your dreams).

Regardless of the minimal success of Pork Soda, Primus ended up headlining 1993’s Lollapalooza tour and also made an appearance at Woodstock ’94 (or Mudstock, as many have lovingly dubbed it). They were pelted with mud during their set (who wasn’t?), and Les made the infamous comment (as you can hear in the video), “You know, when you throw things up onstage, it’s a sign of small and insignificant genitalia.” Truer words were never spoken.

But Primus’ bizarre talent wasn’t professionally recognized until 1995’s Tales from the Punchbowl. The album’s first single, “Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver,” earned the band a Grammy nod for Best Hard Rock Performance (they lost to Pearl Jam), and became their most successful single to date. (And the video is probably one of the best music videos of the ‘90s. Check it out below.)

As with most bands, Claypool and company didn’t take well to their newfound fame, and since “Wynona” was being played to death, Les disowned it. If you happen to see Primus on their new tour, don’t expect to hear the tune.

Tim Alexander left the band in 1996, probably due to playing “Wynona” about a million times. He was replaced by Bryan “Brain” Mantia, and just in time. Two nobodies named Trey Parker and Matt Stone approached Les and the gang to compose a theme song for this little cartoon called South Park. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?

After 1997’s The Brown Album and 1999’s Antipop (which was littered with guest musicians like James Hetfield and Tom Morello), Primus went on an indefinite hiatus in 2001.

Where Are They Now?

Back together (with another yet another new drummer!) and still cranking out songs about the strangest things (this time salmon and squirrels).

During the hiatus, Les got into the jam band scene with projects Oysterhead and Colonel Claypool’s Fearless Flying Frog Brigade. (The latter is probably the single greatest band name in the history of music.)

Tim released two albums with the band Laundry, and also performed with Blue Man Group and A Perfect Circle. Bryan and Larry joined forces to produce two experimental records and tried unsuccessfully to open a recording studio.

Primus reunited with Tim in 2003 to record a 5-track EP, which was released alongside the epic music video collection/live DVD Animals Should Not Try to Act Like People. The boys commenced the “reunion” tour, playfully dubbed the Tour de Fromage, to back the DVD package. They took another break, then toured again in 2006.

Tim became disenchanted with Primus yet again and was replaced with current drummer Jay Lane. Primus announced a new tour in 2010 (which I attended!), but there was still no news of new material surfacing any time soon.

Then, by some great miracle, a new album was announced to be in the works in March 2010. On September 12, 2011, Green Naugahyde was born.

But Why Primus?

That new album I just mentioned? It’s their first new album in 12 years. In case you haven’t noticed, that’s kind of a big deal. Also, it’s super fantastic. Read my review (in which I fangirl over Les Claypool’s superb bass skills).

What Does Sam Think?

PRIMUS SUCKS. In other words, they’re radtastic. Saying “Primus sucks” is kind of a pet term fans use when proclaiming their love for them. But if you say it in a friendly conversation with Les Claypool, he will punch you in the face. Why? Because like “Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver,” he is sick to death of hearing it.

But I digress. Primus is a great band simply because there are no other bands like them. If you heard them on the radio, there would be no doubt in your mind that it was Primus.

But because they’re on their own plane of existence, they tend to alienate some audiences (probably intentionally). You either like Primus, or you don’t. Simple as that. I think the “weird-out” factor is the idea of a band based around a bass player, rather than a vocalist or guitarist. It’s pretty obvious that Les is the mastermind behind Primus (but Larry and just about every drummer are just as talented). Upon first listen, the bass smacks you in the face. That’s just how the band works. And Les Claypool plays a mean bass (he was denied a position in Metallica because he was just too good, or so the legend goes).

If I had to describe the band’s sound, I’d probably go with “thrash funk pig rock.” Yeah, that sounds about right. It’s dirty, but doesn’t take itself too seriously.

Still confused? Don’t sweat it. Listening is the best alternative to my inane ramblings. Take in a few songs, or an entire album (Tales from the Punchbowl is my personal favorite). You’ll either be pleasantly surprised, or completely disgusted. Or perhaps a nice mixture of both.

--Sam Boyer, reporting from the ‘90s.

Pearl Jam

Sound Familiar?

“Jeremy,” “Even Flow,” “Better Man”

Who Are They?

Arguably the most successful (and radio-friendly) band of the Big Four Grunge Acts©.

It all started with Stone Gossard, Jeff Ament, and a little band called Green River in the mid-‘80s. When that project disbanded, Stone and Jeff teamed up with Andrew Wood to form another little band called Mother Love Bone. After Andrew’s unfortunate death in 1990, Mother Love Bone called it quits and Stone and Jeff began jamming with prospective Pearl Jammer Mike McCready. Then they realized that not having a drummer or a singer was kind of counterproductive.

Cue gas station employee Eddie Vedder. Eddie was already the lead vocalist for a local band called Bad Radio when he received a demo tape from Stone and the gang. He recorded vocals for three songs (including a little ditty called “Alive”) and sent the tape back. Stone, Jeff, and Mike’s collective eargasm resulted in Eddie's being flown to Seattle, where he auditioned (was there really any need for an audition?) and joined the band within a week.

Before Pearl Jam took off, Soundgarden frontman Chris Cornell approached Stone and Jeff with the intention of collaborating on a few tribute songs for Andrew Wood. This project ended up as the short-lived band Temple of the Dog. Eddie and Soundgarden/future Pearl Jam drummer Matt Cameron also joined in. So before we had Pearl Jam, we had a pretty rad supergroup (which I guess wasn’t really a supergroup at the time because nobody had any idea who Eddie Vedder was).

But back to the Pearl Jam chronicles. When the boys finally settled on Dave Krusen as their drummer, they needed a name. Mookie Blaylock, anyone? No? Well, that was their first choice. Unfortunately, the name was trademarked (by a basketball team, if you’ll believe it), so Pearl Jam was used instead.

As the band began to record their landmark debut Ten in 1991, Dave decided to check into rehab. Matt Chamberlain replaced him, but ended up leaving after only a handful of shows to join the Saturday Night Live band. Dave Abbruzzese stepped in as a replacement for the rest of the tour.

When Ten was released (the same month as Nirvana’s Nevermind), sales were slow, but eventually exploded by the second half of 1992. The album stayed on the Billboard charts for more than two years and success came in wave after luxurious wave.

But Pearl Jam began to grow uncomfortable with all the popularity, especially Eddie. Tensions between the band and their label mounted when the boys refused to make a video for “Black.” When Cameron Crowe asked them why for his Rolling Stone article, Jeff explained, “Ten years from now, I don’t want people to remember our songs as videos.” (This is kind of ironic considering the band’s biggest single, “Jeremy,” spawned an intensely controversial music video).

Eddie and the gang continued to stick it to the man when they boycotted Ticketmaster for adding a service charge to tickets for their shows. They refused to be seen as a commercial product, so they stopped making music videos and releasing singles.

But not everyone in the group agreed with all this boycotting business. Dave was wary of the Ticketmaster nonsense, so he was promptly dismissed from the band after Vitalogy was recorded. Former Red Hot Chili Peppers drummer Jack Irons replaced him.

The Vitalogy tour ended being a disaster because of the Ticketmaster fiasco. Surprisingly (or maybe not), no other bands joined Pearl Jam in the boycott, and they were forced to play shows outside of the US for the next three years. Apparently Ticketmaster is a sponsor for virtually every venue in America. Weird, right?

No Code and Yield did not come even remotely close to the success of Ten or Vs., although the single “Do the Evolution” from Yield was accompanied by the band’s first music video since 1992.

As the ‘90s came to a close, Jack ditched Pearl Jam and was replaced by Matt Cameron (who was initially temporary, but became a permanent member because, hey, what else are you gonna do when a band like Soundgarden breaks up?)

Where Are They Now?

Still fighting the good fight and selling out stadiums (even the ones affiliated with Ticketmaster).

In 2000, Pearl Jam released Binaural, an experimental effort with some pretty dark lyrics. The somber aura surrounding the album came to a head when nine fans were crushed underfoot and suffocated to death at the Roskilde Festival in Denmark.

That same year, the band celebrated their tenth anniversary with a three-hour set at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. After ten years together, it was time for a break.

Fast-forward one year. Pearl Jam went back to the studio to record Riot Act and also released a few b-sides for use in movies like Big Fish.

Fed up with their previous label’s shenanigans, the band made the decision to move to J Records to release their self-titled album in 2006. During the tour in support of Pearl Jam, the boys headlined both Lollapalooza and Bonnaroo. That’s right. Two major festivals. In the same year.

Their latest album, Backspacer, was released in 2009, along with a video for the album’s first single “The Fixer,” directed by Cameron Crowe. (Note to journalists: If you write a story about Pearl Jam for a major music magazine, you will be able to direct one of their music videos. This may or may not be true.)

But Why Pearl Jam?

Eddie and the boys are celebrating their 20^th anniversary this year with a Labor Day festival (might I suggest the name Pearl Jamapalooza 2011?). It will also feature Queens of the Stone Age, Mudhoney, and various other acts. Oh, and there’s talk of a new album soon. But we’ll just concentrate on the present (even though you’re probably all giddy with excitement about new Pearl Jam material now).

What Does Sam Think?

To be honest, I just consider myself a casual Pearl Jam fan. That is slightly problematic when it comes to seeing this band live (which I did).

You can’t be a casual fan at one of these concerts. Why? Because Pearl Jam plays for the die-hards, something most bands don’t really consider. Say you’re in a fairly successful band. You’ve had a few hits that earned some heavy airplay. You’re going to play those hits at each show because that’s what your fans want to hear. And everyone is happy because they know a couple songs during your set.

This is not what Pearl Jam does. Pearl Jam plays the deepest cuts imaginable and discards most of their biggest hits. You may still hear “Alive” and “Black,” but forget about “Jeremy.” That may never see the light of day again, outside of your iTunes library.

That being said, I can’t judge Pearl Jam too harshly since I’m not a die-hard fan. I do enjoy Ten, though (who doesn’t?). But if I had to rank the Big Four Grunge Acts© by how obsessed I am with them, Pearl Jam is at the bottom. That isn’t because I dislike the band. They do make great music. I’ve just kind of overlooked them because they didn’t jump out at me.

I can hear people calling blasphemy right now. I know critics pretty much fawn over Pearl Jam (kind of like Radiohead, but slightly more subdued), and they probably have good reason. I will admit that certain songs (“Better Man”) have successfully won me over, but Pearl Jam’s catalogue as a whole is kind of lukewarm to me.

Now feel free to pelt me with rocks and copies of Vs.

--Sam Boyer, reporting from the ‘90s.