Tag: 1994

Tunes

Best tunes of 1994: #27 Green Day “Longview”

Post author By jprobichaud
Post date August 16, 2025
4 Comments on Best tunes of 1994: #27 Green Day “Longview”

For a couple of weeks last month, my life* revolved around Ottawa’s Bluesfest, the local big music festival and arguably one of the biggest in Canada. I’ve been attending this shindig to some extent for the past fifteen years or so and have seen some amazing acts in the process. In fact, one of the things I love most about it, besides discovering new bands, is how it has made it possible for me to see a litany of acts that I likely wouldn’t have otherwise seen. Green Day is a band that fits into this latter category from this year’s edition, a band that I’ve known for decades but never really actively followed and would never have bought a concert ticket to just see them. But man, they did put on a great show and played pretty much every song I would have wanted to hear, including this one.

I first heard of the punk trio from California with the release of “Dookie”, the band’s major label debut. A number of the singles from that album got regular play on CFNY in 1994 and given that that was the radio station of choice for me, I heard quite a bit of them, their songs were ear worms that stuck with me, in spite of me. Later on, that summer, I distinctly remember watching footage of their legendary performance at Woodstock ‘94, the mud fight that ensued, and my appreciation for the band grew. The following fall, my university friend Craig loaned me his CD copy of “Dookie” one day while giving me a ride back to my basement apartment north of the city. I recorded it to cassette and it entered into history as part of my soundtrack for second year university.

I stopped actively following Green Day after that though, and am pretty certain that I haven’t listened to any of the eleven studio albums since “Dookie” in full. However, as I discovered at their show, I’ve still been indirectly exposed to a lot of their material. I was amazed but shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was at the crowd that they drew**. And it occurred to me as I sang along with the masses at how well they have transitioned from the punk pranksters of their youth to a crowd pleasing stadium rock band and seemingly managed to keep their integrity intact.

“Peel me off this Velcro seat
And get me moving
I sure as hell can’t do it by myself”

“Longview” was among the songs they played at the show that I was able to and happily sang along with. It was the first song that I ever heard by Green Day and is still quite simply my favourite by the group. The themes of boredom and lethargy definitely rang true for me back in the day, especially when I thought I was going to be stuck in my small hometown forever, and the memories have me wistfully smiling every time I hear the words. That loping drum intro and out for a stroll bass line gets me every time and when it jumps into overdrive at the chorus, I’m right there with the band. Yeah, it plays that loud-quiet-loud card, giving you downtime between explosions to catch your breath. This is perfect gen X power chord punk.

*And my wife will tell you hers too despite not attending at all this year.

**Rumour has it that was the best attended night of the festival this year and possibly, any of the years yet.

For the rest of the Best tunes of 1994 list, click here.

Tags 1990s, 1994, Alternative, Alternative Rock, American rock, Best tunes, Green Day, Punk, Retro

Tunes

Best tunes of 1994: #28 Meat Puppets “Backwater”

Post author By jprobichaud
Post date June 26, 2025
2 Comments on Best tunes of 1994: #28 Meat Puppets “Backwater”

<< #29 | #27 >>

I first came across Meat Puppets care of the old MuchMusic late Friday night alternative music video show “City Limits”. I used to sit poised, close to the TV and VCR, and ready to hit the play and record buttons whenever KCC (and later Simon Evans) would announce an interesting or familiar upcoming video.

One night, and I’m not sure why I did, perhaps it was the interesting band name, but I recorded the video for “Sam”, a single off of Meat Puppets’ seventh and first major label album, “Forbidden places”. Of course, in an age before the Internet was in wide use and almost a decade before the establishment of Wikipedia, I had no idea that the trio led by Curt and Cris Kirkwood had formed in 1980 as a punk band and had released so many independent albums already, amassing a small but mighty cult following.

Upon repeat viewings of the aforementioned video, I formed an attachment to the song and the frenetic way frontman Curt Kirkwood delivered the verses, contrasted with his static facial expression in the video. I ended up purchasing the CD* used at ‘Hooked on Video’, my hometown’s only music store, which was located at the eponymously named Bowmanville Mall.

So I felt a little smug when the group attained a certain level of fame and notoriety a couple of years later when Kurt Cobain invited the Kirkwood brothers onstage to join Nirvana for the taping of their now legendary MTV unplugged performance and they recorded a handful of Meat Puppets covers together. “Backwater” was the first single to be released off the album “Too high to die”, the first bit of new material to see the light after that appearance, so of course it did well, charting higher and selling better than anything the band recorded, prior or ever since. Sure I was a bit of a jerk about all the bandwagoners but I didn’t seriously blame any of them because it was a pretty great tune.

Whenever I hear “Backwater”, I am instantly transported back to the summer of 1995, a whole year after its release. It had had lots of time to steep on commercial radio and was recognizable to many. I was working at the recycling division of the steel plant my father worked at**, a summer job he had arranged for me and that I had quit my favoured 7-Eleven post because it paid more. I spent the better part of the first month in that job picking up scrap metal from the ground around the division’s offices, a make-work project to keep me and the other student hire (we’ll call him Todd because I don’t remember his real name) busy until we had real work to cover off. I spent much of this menial time singing songs to myself and “Backwater” came up often and when ever it did, Todd would join in, doing his best mimicry of the Kirkwood vocals but sounding more like Bert and Ernie.

“Some things will never change
They just stand there looking backwards
Half-unconscious from the pain”

Sure, the song definitely had a more mainstream feel than the sound I had gotten used to on “Forbidden places” but it got its lure hooks into me quickly and never let go. It’s got raunchy guitars, a popping time keep, and a driving riff that would not be denied. It plays like a joyride down small town back roads in pickup trucks with lit cigarettes burning in the ashtrays and open cans of watery domestic lager sloshing in the cupholders. Definitely not my memories of glory days but it still spells warmth somewhere.

*I would, however, sell that same CD a few years later at York University’s music store for a few bucks when I needed some beer money.

**A job I’ve mentioned before.

For the rest of the Best tunes of 1994 list, click here.

Tags 1990s, 1994, Alternative, Alternative Rock, American rock, Best tunes, Meat Puppets, Retro

Tunes

Best tunes of 1994: #29 The Lightning Seeds “Perfect”

Post author By jprobichaud
Post date May 15, 2025
2 Comments on Best tunes of 1994: #29 The Lightning Seeds “Perfect”

<< #30 | #28 >>

Back when I was a young man, especially in the years just before, during, and immediately after my time at university in Toronto, I was a proverbial night owl. I would often stay up all night and only go to bed a few hours after the sun rose on the new day.

This behaviour likely had its roots in the job that I started the year after I graduated high school, working at the local 7-Eleven. I often worked the midnight shift because I was the new guy, was young, and appreciated the meagre shift premium. And often on those shifts, my good friend Bowers, who was also a late nighter, would pop into the store on the nights he wasn’t himself working at the paint factory, coming in during the wee hours to rock the Addams Family pinball machine, shoot the proverbial poo with me and whichever young lady was my shift partner on the night, and we’d walk home together when my shift ended around 7am. On those nights when we were both off work, I’d head over to his place and we’d watch movies all night in his basement over pizzas and beers.

During university, I had no lack of friends who also enjoyed partying late into the night, drinking, listening to tunes, laughing, and generally being ridiculous. On those later evenings, there was always a point where others would disappear off to bed and only the hardy few remained. Those were the moments where the decision was made either to pack it in or realize that you might as well wait to make sure the sun came up. Of course, it was usually the latter.

And when the sun did peak its bright rays over the horizon, it was magic.

It was pure perfection. The air was crisp. The streets were quiet. The skies were replete with a myriad of colours. It felt like the world belonged to you (and your friends) and nobody else. There was a joy. But there was also a sadness.

This song, “Perfect” by The Lightning Seeds, perfectly* encapsulates this feeling, this mood, this magic. Frontman and driving force, Ian Broudie puts into music and words exactly how we all felt in those moments.

“Now tomorrow’s here today
And yesterday’s today’s just fade away
Watch the morning chase the night
Rolling home, it’s getting light
Feeling sleepy, full of wine
Fall in bed, just in time.”

“Perfect” is track one on the Liverpudlian indie pop band’s third album, “Jollification”. It starts off with low level music already in progress, sounding off in the distance like a faraway bird, a shadow in the bright blazing sunrise. Then, the song proper starts, a jolt of life, that second wind, roaring guitars and dancing synth washes and a drum beat that matches the beat of your heart. The song feels bright and wistfully happy – a song of hope for a new day but sadness for the night we’ve lost.