Children of the 90s One-Hit Wonder Mash-Up: 1997 Edition

1997 seems to have been an especially ripe year for love-'em-and-leave-'em treatment of popular music. A new singer or group would burst onto the scene and we'd all be captivated by their debut single, only to be let down in the coming months by a decided lack of chart-toppers from our new favorites. Don't get me wrong--some of these bands went on to make (and in some cases, even sell) more records, but for the most part, their love affair with the general public turned out to be nothing but a tawdry fling.

Whatever the reason, these songs all shot to astronomical heights before relegating their sources to obscurity. For a brief moment in time each of these groups seemed poised to be The Next Big Thing, though somehow they never ascended to that next level. While this group of one-hit wonder makers may not have grown into legendary artists, they at least have a consolatory space reserved in our respective memories. For those of you who have been reading along for awhile, you can safely anticipate that at the very least, some of these are bound to turn up on one of my humiliating suggested playlists. These artists may not have had industry staying power, but their songs will likely forever live on muzakified in grocery store aisles everywhere.

Lovefool (The Cardigans)


This song had the luck of being featured in Baz Luhrmann's updated film version of Romeo and Juliet, thus guaranteeing the song some love from teenagers everywhere. You'd be hard-pressed to find a teenage girl from the 90s who doesn't hear this song and automatically summon an image of Claire Danes and Leonardo DiCaprio locking eyes across a fish tank. It's more romantic than it sounds, take my word for it. On its own merits, "Lovefool" is almost painfully catchy in a bubblegum-pop sort of way. I suppose that could qualify as merit or demerit, depending on your take on 90s Europop.

Ooh Aah Just a Little Bit (Gina G)


Speaking of Europop, Gina G's "Ooh Aah Just a Little Bit" definitely fit the bill. It also deserves some sort of award for the longest nonsensical song title. It has a beat and you can dance to it, though, so I'm willing to overlook it.


How Bizarre (OMC)



New Zealand band OMC's "How Bizarre" quickly became a hit worldwide, though I still don't get it. If anyone understands the meaning behind this song, please feel free to drop some wisdom in the comment box. I get that the gist of it is the guys cruising in their Chevy '69, but this part kind of throws me:

Elephants and acrobats,
Lions snakes monkey
Pele speaks righteous
Sister Zina says funky

Anyone?


This is Your Night (Amber)


"This is Your Night" is not a great song, but it is a great dance song. It's hard to listen to it without at least tapping your foot a bit. And I dare you to restrain yourself from singing along with those "Da ba ba da ba da dip doppin days". It's impossible.


All for You (Sister Hazel)


I spent about 10 years of my life thinking this song was recorded by Hootie and the Blowfish, so imagine my surprise to find that it was recorded by...these other guys. Sister Hazel. It's not a bad song, though I probably wouldn't call it a good song. It capitalizes on the mind-entrapping powers of repetition and pounds that chorus into your head. I miraculously still know all the lyrics, and I never even liked the song that much in the first place. Now that's staying power.

Da' Dip (Freak Nasty)


The lyrics on this one are a bit fuzzy at best. I always heard something along the lines of, "I put my hand upon your hip and I dip, you dip, we dip........yours......mine..............." I know a quick internet search could easily fill in those ellipses with lyrics, but I'm a bit afraid to find out just what we were dancing to at Bar Mitzvah parties and middle school dances. The fact that the singer goes by "Freak Nasty" doesn't bode especially well.


Let Me Clear My Throat (DJ Kool)


That intro just gets you. It's hard not to like this song, it has an upbeat feel to it and the lyrics seem pretty innocent; it's mainly just a rap about rapping. It also taught me the expression "stop on a dime", which was pretty helpful. Plus, they cheered to it in Bring It On. How can you not like a song with those credentials?

Sunny Came Home (Shawn Colvin)


"Sunny Came Home" definitely takes our list to the melancholy and depressing. The song details the life of a repressed housewife who ends up burning down her house. Sounds fun, right? As a kid, I loved to sing along, though it did make me question whether I believed in transcendence. At the time (middle school) I was torn on the issue.


Return of the Mack (Mark Morrison)


Mark Morrison deserves some props for recording a song with almost no content whatsoever. Most of the lyrics are just filler, like "here it is" or "come on". It is catchy, though, and appropriately found its way onto my college drinking playlists. What I can I say? We're suckers for nostalgia. Jury's still out on what a "Mack" is, though.


Butterfly Kisses (Bob Carlisle)


A country music song about the love between fathers and daughters. Don't worry, it's not that country, it's all innocent. It's also incredibly, intensely cheesy.


The Freshman (Verve Pipe)


Even as a kid, you just knew this was a sad song regardless of whether you really understood the lyrics. Like Ben Folds Five's "Brick", the song was about abortion, though I certainly didn't know it at the time. I also frequently got most of the lyrics wrong. The lead singer is kind of a mumbler.

Bitch (Meredith Brooks)


It's definitely a gamble to make the title of your song mild profanity. But, like she says in the song, she's a bitch. What does she care? Screw the censoring public. Swear words for everyone!


Tubthumping (Chumbawumba)


Thought we'd end on a high note here. Tempo speaking, of course. In the history of music, words like "Chumbawumba" and "Tubthumping" generally denote a dark time.


That's all I've got for you this week, Children of the 90s. Join us next week when we discuss...some as of yet undetermined subjects. But really, they'll be good. Have a good weekend, 90s children, and feel free to throw some of these songs on your iPod playlist--they're the hearty dose of music nostalgia your ears so desperately crave.

No Fear

Have you ever been sitting in your doctor's waiting room admiring his framed inspirational posters and thought to yourself, "Hey, I could really go for this as a T-shirt, only with an angry spin"? Well, have I got a brand for you. For those among us who felt the need not to impose our trite tidbits of sports-minded wisdom onto the general public, No Fear clothing was nothing short of a godsend. Finally, here was our chance to make our voices heard and let our peers know that they need not fear hockey or snowboarding.

The 90s marked the beginning of the fascination with so-called Extreme Sports, which were classified as "extreme" largely on the basis of their high risk of fatal injury. Sounds fun, right? We all seemed to think so as we sat glued to our televisions fascinated at the death-defying antics of professional skateboarders and their ilk. The No Fear brand capitalized on the rising interest in Extreme Sports, channeling its invincible and ambivalent spirit with its existential slogans.

Of course, most of us were too young to see it that way. We weren't out to debate Camus' influence on our sportswear choices, we just wanted to be cool. According to the rising No Fear brand, what was cool was an aggressive, nihilistic outlook on life. While the brand produced both adult and youth apparel, it was always more unsettling to see a kid sporting a shirt with the phrase "He who dies with the most toys, still dies." For one, the punctuation is pretty questionable. Is this the level of comma misuse we want to bestow unto our children?



Created by race car driver Brian Simo and friends in 1989, the No Fear brand quickly ascended to popularity in the early-to-mid 1990s. Most of the shirts offered up semi-inspirational sports quotes with a sole focus on winning, defeating others, never losing, and...well, you get the idea. According to No Fear, even coming in second was a sure sign of longstanding failure. These sentiments were a far cry from the touchy-feely "At least you tried!" attitudes of today. According to No Fear, there was no trying, only winning. That sounds like a pretty healthy attitude, right?

No Fear presented a very machismo-esque black-and-white view of the world, mainly that our self worth hinged on our ability to shoot baskets or make game-winning goals. Self-proclaimed macho sportsmen took to the streets in No Fear-adorned pickup trucks and SUVs, proudly displaying bumper stickers or over-sized decals. This practice declared your extreme, anti-establishment, tough-guy attitude. Everyone knows that an obstructed view through your rear window is for pansies.
The problem with the No Fear message was that it wasn't really a message at all. People quickly bought into the notion as some sort of ideology to live by, but it was really just a gimmick to sell some crappy athletic t-shirts. "No Fear" wasn't a way of life or a religion. Truthfully, "No Fear" wearers were probably most afraid of outing themselves as fear-mongering frauds. The false bravado of the t-shirt just hid the ultimate fear of failure. Plus, it made them look like a total tool. I mean, really. Just awful.

No Fear shirts quickly became the daily uniform of many boys and young men, or at least when their Stussy and Mossimo shirts were in the wash. These shirts were arguably a step above the "Coed Naked" and "Big Johnson" t-shirts, but not by much. For bonus points and to achieve the 90s athletic apparel trifecta, a guy could even pair their No Fear shirt with Umbros and a Starter Jacket. It may not have been pretty, but dammit it was stylish.



It wasn't long before the moral-minded knockoffs started rolling off the copyright-infringing assembly lines. Just like the innumerable "Got Milk?" parodies, many religious organizations began parodying No Fear's signature t-shirts and replacing the win-at-all-costs aggressiveness with faith-friendly slogans. Seemingly overnight we were seeing these well-intentioned knockoffs everywhere; phrases like "Fear God" and "No Fear, Got Faith" were popular variations. The producers of these shirts meant well, I'm sure, but the overall effect was less than desirable. After all, the only thing worse than wearing a No Fear shirt was wearing a parody No Fear shirt.

The brand's popularity peaked in the mid-90s and the craze quietly petered out. People soon found new, similarly tool-ish decals to pollute their rear window views, and No Fear seemed to fade into relative obscurity. While once you couldn't turn a corner without being bombarded with No Fear's single-minded message of winning and defying society, it seemed everyone's shirts had quieted down considerably. Clothing no longer spoke to me about my growing sense of failure and inadequacy; it was all drowned out by the far more upbeat ads for Gap khakis and Old Navy fleece vests.

It appears No Fear is still churning out t-shirts, but their current style offerings look like a poor man's Ed Hardy. That is, a watered-down version of the Jon Gosselin-patented douchebag-at-a-distance identification system. To put it another way, our over-tanned pals on Jersey Shore would look right at home fist-pumping at the club in any item from the present-day No Fear line.* So, like the shirts say, have no fear: these babies are here to stay.


*Depending on your penchance for trashy reality TV, the above comparisons could yield disgust or could go over your head entirely.

Titanic

There can be a some major issues in creating a fictionalized movie based on a historical event, but none more, well, titanic, than that facing James Cameron's 1997 blockbuster Titanic. No matter what sort of curve-balls and snaking twists he threw into the plot, you knew there was no chance this boat wasn't going under. There's zero likelihood of a surprise ending with this one, particularly if you saw the movie after you listened to the spoken verse in Britney Spears' "Oops I Did It Again."All the character development in the world couldn't quell that sinking (pun intended) sense of dread that our heroes were just hours from facing imminent catastrophe. Considering hordes of young girls a la Twilight saw the movie three or four times in theaters, it clearly had an X factor that transcended predictability.

In the wake of endless Avatar buzz, some of us forget that this isn't Jame's Cameron's first go at billions-earning film endeavors. Incredibly, Avatar and Titanic are currently ranked as the top two highest-grossing films, suggesting that Cameron's Titanic-inspired "I'm the king of the world!" chalks up to far more than presumptuous chutzpah*. This guy has obviously earned his cinematic clout, particularly in piquing the interest of not just critics but the general public. It's one thing to wow critics, but another realm altogether to convince the millions of the huddled masses to drop ten bucks for a screening.


While Titanic garnered innumerable accolades for its visual splendor, it's possibly more impressive that such a major contingency of people were willing to sit through the full 192 minutes. We're talking three point two hours here, especially long for those of us who hate to leave a movie even for a much-needed bathroom break. Consider the following equation: a large movie theater soda plus 192 minutes plus continuous rushing water onscreen. This did not bode well for the weak-bladdered among us.

Titanic even performed best on Valentine's Day of 1998, taking in over $13 million. Kudos to Cameron for convincing us not only to sign on for three plus hours of screen time but that this disastrous tale of a doomed trans-Atlantic voyage was the most romantic date movie choice. Well played, James Cameron. Well played indeed.

To the movie's romantic credit, it has a certain Romeo and Juliet-type appeal. Our romantic leads are not just star-crossed but downright predestined for separation. The subject matter was also arguably compelling enough to warrant such popularity; shipwrecks also have an elusive allure, captivating us with their unforeseen tragedy and trauma. Let me tell you, though, that it lacks that charm when your cruise line chooses to play it on continuous loop on the in-ship movie channel. Your fears of seasickness will pale in comparison.




The movie opens on then-present day excursions of undersea treasure hunters. Bill Paxton and friends set out to find the famed "Heart of Ocean" blue diamond, rumored to have been on board at the time of the ship's sinking. The underwater excavation doesn't yield any jewels, but it does unearth a drawing of a nude woman wearing the much sought-after necklace. Rose Dawson Calvert, a 100-year old survivor of the wreck, comes forward as the subject of the drawing in question and travels to meet with the excavation team. In typical old person fashion, she gets way off track, launching into a 3-hour detailed chronicle of her experiences onboard. They're just after the diamond, lady, really.

Rose reflects on the outset of her voyage, recalling her 17-year old self boarding the ship for its maiden voyage in 1912. Her family brokered her engagement to the son of a wealthy steel capitalist as a last-ditch hope to save their dwindling hold on the upper class. Rose sees no way out of her impending nuptials and heads to the ship's stern, from where she plans on jumping into the ocean. A scraggy but undeniably handsome steerage passenger, Jack Dawson (Leonardo DiCaprio), spots Rose just as she is about to jump to her death and interferes. Her fiancee hears Rose's screams and suspects Jack tried to take advantage of her, but Rose stands up for Jack and the two forge a friendship.

Jack takes Rose to the third-class quarters where she partakes in some raucous partying featuring folksy instruments, fur hats, and a fair amount of do-si-do-ing. You can't deny this looks far more enjoyable than the stuffy upper decks' humorless dinners.



Rose's fiancee finds out about her minor act of rebellion and forbids her to see Jack. Rose defies his wishes and continues to spend time with Jack, culminating in his suave artistic maneuvering that results in some good old fashioned nude sketching. Things get completely R-rated here, from Kate Winslet's bare breasts to their steamy tryst in a Renault, but somehow Titanic wrangled a PG-13 rating.

Long, long, long story short(ened), Rose's betrothed Cal is pissed, he frames Jack and has him arrested, rendering Jack handcuffed to some pipes. The ship makes troublesome contact with an iceberg, Rose manages to free Jack, and we begin our long drawn-out saga of limited lifeboats and probable hypothermia. The ship splits in two, our heroes end up chattering away in the chilly ocean, there are some heartfelt teary-eyed promises to "never let go", and Jack freezes to death. Rose is saved, and the movie brings us back to the present day for the close of Rose's story. Rose secretly tosses the Heart of the Ocean into the water and the whole thing ends rather ambiguously but sweetly with our witnessing the reunion of teenaged Jack and Rose.

Oh, and how could I forget that this onscreen saga featured a bestselling soundtrack chock full of instrumental James Horner and this epic ballad by the ever-overblown Celine Dion?You just couldn't escape this song in the late 90s; it was everywhere.



If after all that you still need a Titanic refresher course, the internet is teeming with conveniently condensed versions of our favorite movies. Observe, exhibit A:



Titanic went on to sweep the awards shows. I have a distinct memory of keeping a steadfast tally of its wins on Oscar night (for the record, an impressive 11 wins for 14 nominations). My friends and I rushed out to purchase the two-VHS edition of the film for our own viewing enjoyment, though few of us kept up with our initial mania to the point of sitting through the full thing at home. To be fair, though, many of us had seen it multiple times in theaters and had earned our titles as tween fanatics.

The movie may have been fictionalized, but it did have an uncanny manner of drawing us into an interest in historical events. Any film that has the power to interest angst-ridden teenagers in nautical history is right up there with winning 11 Academy Awards: a feat achievable by few. Whether or not you liked the movie, you've got to admit it takes a special type of movie to impel young people to take an interest in any event featured in their history textbooks. I'll concede that the salacious love story and some light nudity may have helped, though. I doubt a documentary would have piqued our interests so readily.

*There's not really any other kind of chutzpah, but for those of you without a strong background in Yiddish, I thought I'd throw you a bone on that one.