Marcy Playground

Sound Familiar?

“Sex and Candy”

Who Are They?

Classic ‘90s one-hit-wonders responsible for one of the most frequently asked questions of the decade: “What the hell is disco lemonade?”

Marcy Playground (named after the elementary school front man John Wozniak attended) achieved success early on with its debut self-titled album and this little ditty called “Sex and Candy.” Prior to the band’s formation, John had already recorded an album of his own called Zog BogBean – From the Marcy Playground in 1990. Two songs from that record (“Our Generation” and “The Dog and His Master”) would appear on later Marcy Playground albums.

After attending notable liberal arts school Evergreen State College, John moved to New York and hooked up with his pal Jared Kotler. Once bassist Dylan Keefe joined the band, Marcy Playground began to play shows in NYC and eventually signed to Capitol Records in 1995. Unfortunately, John and Jared couldn’t get past their personal problems, so Jared split and Dan Rieser stepped in just in time to record Marcy Playground in 1997.

The album’s first single, “Poppies,” failed to make a splash, but once “Sex and Candy” hit the radio waves, the band’s popularity skyrocketed. (Fun fact: “Sex and Candy” knocked Oasis’ “Wonderwall” out of the number one spot on Billboard’s Modern Rock Tracks list.)

But what does “Sex and Candy” mean, you ask? Well, according to John, the title is a reference to an evening he spent in his girlfriend’s dorm room when he was 17. The girl’s roommate walked into the room and said, “Oh, it smells like sex and candy in here!” John liked the phrase, so that’s why we have a song called “Sex and Candy.” As for the meaning behind the lyrics, your guess is as good as mine. (But according to Urban Dictionary, “disco lemonade” is actually a tasty cocktail made with vodka and lemonade.)

Marcy Playground released its follow-up, Shapeshifter, in 1999. The album didn’t do nearly as well as its predecessor (hence why the band is considered a one-hit-wonder), and Marcy Playground went on a short hiatus.

(Fun fact: The cover art for Shapeshifter had originally been conceptualized by Paul Leary of Butthole Surfers for the Surfers’ aborted project After the Astronaut. After the artwork was used without permission, Paul was ready to fight. Fortunately for John and company, it was Capitol Records who had stolen the artwork, not the band, so Paul let it go and John had a mini fanboy moment when he realized that a member of Butthole Surfers had designed one of his album covers.)

Where Are They Now?

Touring till death do them part.

After a brief hiatus, Marcy Playground released its third studio album, MP3, in 2004. It didn’t achieve mainstream success, but “Deadly Handsome Man” was featured on the Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back soundtrack and “Punk Rock Superstar” was featured on an XBox 360 playlist.

But the boys remained positive about their future in music, especially on the track “Hotter Than the Sun,” in which John reflects on the band’s short success.

Leaving Wonderland…In a Fit of Rage followed MP3 and Marcy Playground began touring along the California coast.

Lunch, Recess & Detention, a collection of rarities, b-sides and new material, new released earlier this year. Marcy Playground spent the summer touring in support of it alongside fellow ‘90s heavyweights Everclear, Sugar Ray, Lit and Gin Blossoms on the Summerland Tour (which I had the privilege of attending).

But Why Marcy Playground?

There’s the album, the tour and the band’s determination to keep touring no matter what. These guys have another album or two in them. Just wait.

What Does Sam Think?

I have a soft spot for most ‘90s one-hit-wonder bands, mostly because a lot of them deserve more than one hit. Marcy Playground is number one on that list.

“Sex and Candy” is one of the best songs of the ‘90s (though it was ranked criminally low on VH1's list). It’s simple, but murky and just plain sexy. The band’s debut album as a whole is pretty quiet and minimalistic, and I think that really works to its advantage. The late ‘90s was chock full of post-grunge bands wanting to be as loud as possible and Marcy Playground was a welcome alternative to that mindset.

Marcy Playground was heavily influenced by bands like Van Morrison and Nirvana, and you can definitely hear that on each album. The band’s music is a little dark, but not the black metal kind of dark; it’s the art school kind of dark.

As far as live performances go, these guys definitely know who their audiences are. They make light of being one-hit-wonders and always, always play “Sex and Candy” at least once (they usually let the audience sing it a few times). Seeing them live actually prompted me to listen to the rest of their discography, which is pretty solid.

So will Marcy Playground come back to rock radio with a vengeance? Probably not. But I think this band has some more secretly great music up its sleeve. And if these boys continue to tour in support of that new music, they will always have a faithful audience.

If you tour, they will come.

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

Vanilla Ice

Sound Familiar?

“Ice Ice Baby"

Who Is He?

The butt of every white rapper joke known to man and the poster boy of early ‘90s cheese.

Yo, VIP, let’s kick it! Robert Van Winkle thrived on hip-hop as a young boy in Dallas. At the tender age of 13, he began breakdancing and earned the nickname “Vanilla” among his core group of chums, because (you guessed it) he was the only white boy in the bunch. Rob hated the nickname, but it stuck.

When he started rapping at parties, he became MC Vanilla. But as a member of a breakdance troupe, Rob adopted the stage name we all know today, Vanilla Ice (the “Ice” part of it came from the name of one of his signature dance moves).

At 16, Rob penned what would later become one of the biggest songs of the ‘90s: the one, the only “Ice Ice Baby” (but we’ll get to that later).

Rob got really into motocross in 1985, but an ankle injury prevented him from racing professionally. Instead, Rob concentrated on perfecting his beatboxing and breakdancing skills as a street performer at local malls. One fine evening at City Lights (a South Dallas night club), Rob went onstage for Open Mic and won over the crowd. As a result, he was able to open for such acts as N.W.A., Pubic Enemy, and 2 Live Crew. He and his buddies played until the name The Vanilla Ice Posse (or The VIP for short).

In January 1987, after being stabbed five times outside City Lights during a scuffle, Rob signed a contract with the owner of City Lights during his recovery in the hospital.

Vanilla Ice’s debut album Hooked was released in 1989…and nobody really cared. Tommy Quon (owner of City Lights and at this point, Rob’s soul) personally sent out copies of the first single, “Play That Funky Music,” to radio stations around the US, but they seldom played it. It wasn’t until a DJ in Georgia accidentally played the single’s B-side, “Ice Ice Baby,” that Vanilla Ice hit it big.

Unfortunately, not everyone liked a white boy from Dallas with a rap career. Record producer and generally intimidating dude Suge Knight harassed Rob on numerous occasions, eventually showing up at Rob’s hotel suite threatening to throw him off the balcony if he didn’t sign the publishing rights to “Ice Ice Baby” over to him. (Suge later used Ice’s money to help fund Death Row Records.)

Rob signed with SBK Records in 1990 and rerecorded Hooked under the title To the Extreme. The album became the fastest-selling hip-hop record of all time, reaching #1 on the Billboard 200. To the Extreme went 11x platinum, but the reviews were mixed.

Ice reached the height of his popularity in 1991, appearing in such cinematic masterpieces as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze and the iconic Cool as Ice. (Fun fact: Cool as Ice is so incredibly awful, it holds both a Golden Raspberry Award and an 8% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. All this without the aid of Pauly Shore.)

By 1994, the Vanilla Ice craze had run out of steam. Rob got into the Rastafari movement, became a vegetarian, grew dreadlocks and released an album (mostly) about smoking weed. Not so surprisingly, Mind Blowin’ failed to impress anyone and the record label that had built up Vanilla Ice’s career went bankrupt.

At this time, Rob began using ecstasy, cocaine and heroin. After a suicide attempt in July 1994, Ice decided it was time to clean up his act and start fresh. He joined a grunge band (the aptly-named Pickin’ Scabz), got married and opened up a Miami-based Extreme sports store.

Ice developed a friendship with producer Ross Robinson, and in 1997, Ross helped him release his third studio album Hard to Swallow. The record’s darker sound attracted a whole new fan base (mostly Juggalos) and Rob finally got the fresh start he’d been searching for.

Where Is He Now?

Still releasing music independently and starring in various reality TV train wrecks.

In 2002, after reuniting with his former manager Tommy Quon, Rob appeared in several reality and game shows, including Celebrity Boxing and Hollywood Squares. His most famous TV appearance was in VH1’s The Surreal Life in 2004, which he cited as being a “therapeutic experience” (though much of it was staged).

After releasing a few more albums, Ice started his own reality show called The Vanilla Ice Project in 2010, which focused on Ice renovating a house in Palm Beach.

Rob has performed at The Gathering of the Juggalos on a few occasions and recently signed to Psychopathic Records. He’s happily married with two daughters and knows how to take the occasional “Ice Ice Baby” joke.

But Why Vanilla Ice?

Because you can’t have a ‘90s blog without mentioning this guy. He’s relevant because he’s still alive making music. What more could you want?

What Does Sam Think?

Okay, I’m not going to try to say Vanilla Ice is a master wordsmith or anything. He was a novelty act. “Ice Ice Baby” isn’t a particularly influential song, but it’s damn catchy. And contrary to popular belief, he didn’t sully the name of all of the white rappers of the world. If anything, he paved the way for them to accomplish bigger and better things. After Ice, we got Eminem. Cool, right?

But Vanilla Ice wasn’t the first white rapper in history (Beastie Boys, anyone?). He was just the first one to achieve ridiculous mainstream success based on an image. They made Vanilla Ice dolls, for God’s sake. That’s when you know you’ve gotten too big.

Like I’ve said before, I’m not a hip-hop expert; I’m just a humble nostalgia expert. Through the nostalgic lens, we usually perceive the ‘90s as a flawless wonderland of unique and inspiring trends. Someone plays “Ice Ice Baby” at a party nowadays and all of sudden, everyone claims that music in the ‘90s was so much better than music today. While there was some fantastic music that came out of the decade, the ‘90s still had awful pop music.

Now, “Ice Ice Baby” isn’t the worst song on the planet. But being an iconic ‘90s song doesn’t make it great in a critical sense. Take off the rose-colored glasses and listen to it now. Does it still make you want to dance? Probably. Does it still make it on to your list of the greatest songs of all time? Doubtful.

But who am I to tell you what’s good or not? If you genuinely like “Ice Ice Baby” (or any of Vanilla Ice’s recent endeavors), then you go, Glen Coco! Bask in the nostalgia.

But back to Mr. Van Winkle. He hasn’t let his cartoonish image of a past decade control his life. He’s accepted his past and gone in a totally different direction. From ‘90s novelty to reality show regular to mild-mannered Juggalo, Vanilla Ice has officially gone through every phase of the one-hit-wonder (almost) entirely unscathed. Now that’s impressive. Word to your mother.

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

Chumbawamba

Sound Familiar?

“Tubthumping”

Who Are They?

A group of anarchists from the UK who managed to churn out one of the most popular songs of the ‘90s.

Chumbawamba began as Skin Disease, a parody of the Oi! punk bands of the time. Once the band changed its name to Chumbawamba, it became one of the forerunners of the ‘80s anarcho-punk movement. (Just remember, these are the guys who brought you “Tubthumping.”)

Chumbawamba’s first few releases were politically-charged punk records. Their first LP, 1986’s Pictures of Starving Children Sell Records, was a critique of the Live Aid concert. How can you critique something like Live Aid, you ask? Well, Chumbawamba argued that the concert was primarily a “cosmetic spectacle” designed to draw attention away from the real political causes of world hunger. Makes sense, right?

If criticizing Live Aid wasn’t radical enough for you, let me direct your attention to the band’s second album, 1987’s Never Mind the Ballots…Here’s the Rest of Your Lives. That one questioned the validity of the British democratic system and mocked the charity campaign of popstar supergroup Ferry Aid.

So when did Chumbawamba start writing catchy pop songs about “pissing the night away?"

By the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, our anarchist heroes had begun to absorb influences from techno music and rave culture (because everyone had a rave phase in the ‘90s). They moved away from their anarcho-punk roots and displayed their pop sensibilites with 1990’s Slap! and 1992’s Shhh.

After signing to indie label One Little Indian in 1994, Chumbawamba revisited their anarchist roots with the appropriately titled Anarchy. The band parted with the label less than two years later and made the controversial decision to move to major label EMI. Like every other band that has opted for a major label (Green Day and Soundgarden, for example), Chumbawamba was met with animosity from fans. (And when your fans are also anarchists, things can get a little more intense.)

Fellow anarcho-punk band Oi Polloi took the so-called “selling out” thing to heart and released an “anti-Chumbawamba” EP called Bare Faced Hypocrisy Sells Records. But Chumbawamba stayed firm with their decision, claiming that the move brought with it the opportunity to spread the band’s message to a wider audience.

What message they were trying to across in “Tubthumping” was anybody’s guess. The karaoke hit was Chumbawamba’s highest charting single and prompted thousands of drunken bar patrons to shout, “I get knocked down, but I get up again!”

But the band didn’t let mainstream success get in the way of their anarchist attitudes. During an appearance on American political talk show Politically Incorrect in 1998, vocalist/drummer Alice Nutter told fans to steal Tubthumping from large chains like Virgin. Well, Virgin didn’t really appreciate that, so the chain began removing the album from shelves and selling it from behind the counter.

Where Are They Now?

Still churning out albums (and a musical)!

After the “Tubthumping” hype died down at the end of the ‘90s, Chumbawamba left EMI and formed their own record label, MUTT.

In 2002, the band released Readymades, an album that mixed samples of folk music and dance beats.

That same year, General Motors paid Chumbawamba $100,000 to use their song “Pass It Along” for a Pontiac Vibe ad. Much to everyone’s surprise, the band agreed, but ended up giving the money they received to anti-corporate activist groups.

And what did those groups do with the cash? Why, they launched an information and environmental campaign against GM. Ah, those clever anarchists.

Subsequent releases Un, A Singsong and a Scrap, and The Boys Bands Have Won were a little more on the folksy side. After a few more tours, the lineup began to change.

As of right now, there are five members of Chumbawamba (that number has fluctuated since the band formed in 1982). Former members have gone on to work in the film industry, like former vocalist Dunstan Bruce. He founded Dandy Films, an independent film and video company in the UK.

Alice Nutter and former drummer Harry Hamer collaborated on a handful of musical dramas, most notably 2006’s Love and Petrol and 2008’s Where’s Vietnam?. Both of them continue to work in theater.

But Why Chumbawamba?

Believe it or not, this band still churns out albums. They also churn out musicals now, apparently. While the musical has yet to surface, Chumbawamba went ahead and made a soundtrack for it anyway. It’s called Chumbawamba & Red Ladder Present: Big Society! and it was released back in January of this year. So hopefully we’ll have a real musical to go along with the soundtrack sometime soon.

What Does Sam Think?

In terms of commercial appeal, Chumbawamba is definitely a one-hit-wonder band. Don’t lie to me and say that you’re hoarding their entire discography in your attic because, let’s face it, you probably didn’t know they had more than two albums until today.

I was aware that these guys were huge anarchists before I wrote this entry, but I had no idea they had such a rich history. The sections above are condensed accounts of Chumbawamba’s adventures throughout the years because I know nobody would read the novel I could have written.

That said, it’s very unusual for a one-hit-wonder band to keep on keepin’ on after the success of their one hit. It’s normal for that kind of band to release a couple more albums before calling it quits, but dropping album after album a decade after your popularity diminishes? That takes dedication.

While I really can’t analyze Chumbawamba’s 17-album discography (yes, I said 17), I can always comment on “Tubthumping.”

The song is pretty simplistic, even for a punk band. But at the same time, it’s not surprising that it was written by a bunch of anarchists.

Why? Well, look at the lyrics:

I get knocked down, but I get up again.
No, you’re never gonna keep me down.

How punk rock is that for you? As catchy as “Tubthumping” is, it’s really a song about being oppressed. I have a feeling that the band knew the appeal the song would have and used that as a way to spread their message. The message wasn’t that everyone should be an anarchist; the message was that you shouldn’t let someone or something hold you down.

So that middle-aged drunk guy slurring “Tubthumping” at karaoke night may actually be a victim of oppression. Or maybe he just really likes embarrassing himself.

-- 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.