90s Compilation CDs

Once upon a time, in a primitively technological world lightyears from today, we couldn't just pick and choose the songs on our albums as we pleased. There was no logging onto iTunes for .99 cents a song with the goal assembling the ultimate playlist. We did have the positively prehistoric predecessor of the mixtape, but it was a far more complex affair. To create your dream compilation required a great deal of finger dexterity to press the record and stop buttons at just the right time as they came on the radio. If you were lucky enough to own a dual cassette player, you could sometimes record from one to another, but the whole process was a bit of an ordeal.

In the time set squarely between the age of the Mix tape and the era of burnable CDs, the music industry offered us an attractive option. For the allegedly low low price of just $19.99 plus shipping and handling, we could be the proud owner of a compilation CD guaranteed to satisfy our urge for a varied playlist within a set theme. Especially before we held the power to create our our own CDs, we relied heavily on these As Seen on TV products for mix tape-style musical entertainment.



NOW! That's What I Call Music


They'd been churning these babies out for years in the UK, but we in the US weren't treated to their compilation glory until 1998. How can you say no to a product whose name is a full sentence? Well, a one-word exclamation followed by a sentence fragment. Either way, it's pretty specific.

English Virgin Records executives conceived these compilation albums as a means of squeezing further revenue out of songs already released on full albums. By reissuing a track, they could continue to make money off of already-released songs. Sounds easy enough, and the formula clearly stuck--in the UK they've reached something like NOW! 438293, though we are lagging a bit behind in the US at a mere 32 albums.

The first US album is chock-full of solid 90s pop hits, which is good or bad depending on your tolerance for cheesy, repetitive music. In my case, this was a mix tape-style gold mine. The first US NOW! featured tracks like Aqua's "Barbie Girl", KC & Jojo's "All my Life", and Hanson's "MMMBop". All in all, a pretty decent pop spread. The franchise has been pumping out album after album, year after year, each time reissuing the season's most-played pop music tracks. The commercials are irritating, sure, but seeing one now gets me a little nostalgic for the NOW!s of years gone by. Buying one featuring songs like Ke$ha's "Tik Tok" just isn't the same experience.



Pure Moods



Watching this commercial is like taking a brief stroll into the depths of my childhood subconscious. I knew it was hiding there somewhere, but it takes that "Ahhhh ay wa oh wa ay waaaah" at the beginning of that commercial to bring it to the surface. This commercial played incessantly during the 90s, though you'd be hard pressed to find someone who actually admitted to owning it. The commercial aired frequently during children and tween-directed programming, though I doubt any of our parents shelled out the $15.99 via check or money order to bring these pure, unfiltered moods to our doorstep via the United States Postal Service.

The best part is how seriously this commercial takes its product. That deep, thoughtful voice-over implies that we simply do not know how to feel if we don't kick back at the stereo with Tubular Bells Part 1 and the X-Files Theme. The only pure mood the X-Files theme ever elicited from me was fear over those freaky aliens, but this montage implies that I'll feel a nirvana-esque New Age level of contentment. I still can't go within 50 feet of an Enya song without immediately being transported back to watching the commercial in my childhood living room, waiting impatiently for Stick Stickly to return for Nick in the Afternoon. It's just that kind of powerful.



Jock Jams



In the 90s we were all about megamixing songs, and the above video is a classic example. Apparently mixing was so 80s by this time; it was all about the mega-mixing. Jock Jams captured the essence of the peppy, active nature of the 90s by giving us a bunch of beat-addled club hits conveniently packaged in a single cheerleader-splattered album. The first volume featured 90s favorite fare like C&C Music Factory's "Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now)", 69 Boyz "Tootsee Roll", and Tag Team's "Whoomp! There it is". It also had some more retro but equally toe-tapping hits like the Village People's "YMCA" and Gary Glitter's "Rock and Roll Part 2." All in all, not a bad spread.

Some of the songs were sports-themed or focused on competition, but others were simply popular dance songs. In case we forgot the athletic nature of the album halfway through, our ever-helpful Jock Jams cheerleaders would chime in with some sort of a rabble-rousing chant. The series was, as the album covers proclaimed, brought to us by ESPN, so perhaps they just had to keep reminding us that we were engaging in vague act of athleticism. That was the best part about these CDs--they pumped you up and made you feel a bit Sporty Spice. Who cared that you couldn't do a single pull-up in gym class? You could do a great impression of the introductory "Let's get ready to ruuuumble!"

At the time, I don't think I knew anyone who didn't own this CD. It was just like second 90s child nature to collect piles of Jock Jams compilation CDs. It's just what we did. I'm not embarrassed to admit that some of these tracks are still in common shuffling circulation on my workout playlists. Well, I'm not that embarrassed.


I still see commercials on TV for compilation CDs from time to time, but their captivation power over me just isn't the same. There was something uniquely alluring at the time about a mix tape that came on CD. I didn't have to record it off the radio, yet it still seemed to know all of my favorite songs.

Listening to the tracks now just reminds me of how easily entertained my friends and I once were. These days we're not satisfied unless we're watching TV, playing on my computer, and talking on the phone at the same time, but in the 90s we were still susceptible to be moved by the cheesiness of Pure Moods. It's enough to make you want to go buy a copy. If you can still find one, that is.