THE NINETIES-IST
Welcome to another edition of Brook Pridemore’s The Nineties-ist. This edition discusses 1998, the misery that was caused by Van Halen III, Barenaked Ladies rise to prominence, and John Popper’s paradoxical conservativism. For earlier installments, go here.

Last week, I sang praises for Belle and Sebastian’s If You’re Feeling Sinister, for its display of restraint in an era of nihilism and excess. Today, I can think of no greater example of that nihilism and excess than 1998’s Van Halen III, the pretty-much universally unloved post-Sammy Hagar effort by the brothers Van Halen, Michael Anthony and former Extreme singer Gary Cherone.

Is there a less-apt name for the group responsible for the 1991 syrupy ballad, “More Than Words?” Yeah. “Awesome Cool Dudes” is one. “The Kickass” is another. “Shit Hot, Crazy-Good Rock Band” is another (all but the latter are real band names of farily good bands, by the way).

Have I heard Van Halen III? Only once. My roommate at the time, Bryan, was obsessively into VH, and bought III the day it came out. It sounded, even at the time, like the most over-distilled, generic crap typical of what dominated the radio and MTV in the latter half of the 90s. I doubt Bryan even listened to it a second time – certainly not while I was around.

This is yet another example of greedy, overpaid and out of touch rock musicians not knowing when to exit the realm of contemporary hit-makers and start on track toward retirement. The first indicator that you’ve been around too long is when your band is on its’ third lead singer. If you’re in a rock band so dysfunctional that it can’t keep a consistent front man, it’s time to pack it in. Period.

Who did Van Halen III serve? The people in the band and the people making their living off the band. III was nothing more than an extremely expensive excuse for the band to mount ANOTHER summer stadium tour. Nothing more than that. It’s important to note, too, that Van Halen have issued no further studio effort since III, though the band has continued to tour (now with David Lee Roth back in the fold, as well as Eddie Van Halen’s son, Wolfgang, on bass).
More on #15: 1998

HIDDEN GEM
The Giraffes
13 Other Dimensions
1998 | My Own Planet

When I first came to New York in 2002, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I looked at music listings in the back of the Village Voice: The Giraffes were alive and well, and playing shows all over the city! I couldn’t believe my luck – a Seattle-based band that never tours, and whose activity hinges solely on the whim of Giraffes (and Presidents of the United States of America) leader Chris Ballew, playing regularly in New York?! You have to understand: I was fresh out of college, obsessed with miniscule little home-recorded records by Jeffrey Lewis (my introduction to anti-folk), Gentle Waves (Belle and Sebastian offshoot that makes Belle and Sebastian sound gargantuan by comparison) and Mark Growden (whose Downstairs Karaoke belongs on every comprehensive list of home recorded gems). New York was another world apart from Kalamazoo, MI. To be in my new home, seemingly able to celebrate these underappreciated saints whenever the desire hit me, free of the scorn of the metal kids in my old hometown? I felt like I had arrived.

Somehow, I managed to avoid the discomfort of going to one of these Giraffes shows, expecting Ballew and whoever was in tow. I’d eventually figured out what everyone else knew: that there’s a Brooklyn-based Giraffes, whose star has eclipsed that of Ballew’s side project. I’ve heard they’re awesome, loud, rowdy and abrasive, but have never been to one of their shows. So their story ends here.

13 Other Dimensions is, to the best of my knowledge, the first post-Presidents of the United States of America (who disbanded in 1998, only to reconvene about as often as the Summer Olympics since) solo project. But you wouldn’t know it by looking at the packaging: the liner notes and artwork credit several stuffed animals (Giraffe, Munkey Sr., etc.) with songwriting and performance. The CD even comes with a moderately-convincing story that this is a lost bedroom pop album, made by a bunch of sentient stuffed animals in the early 70s! In fact, the only thread connecting Ballew to 13 Other Dimensions is the publishing company to which the songs are credited: “Raw Poo Music” protects both PUSA and the Giraffes.
More on The Giraffes | 13 Other Dimensions

HIDDEN GEM
Sun City Girls
Dulce Soundtrack
1998 | Abduction

Based out of Phoenix, AZ, and part of the same outré-rock crowd as The Meat Puppets, The Sun City Girls were an amalgamation of punk, surf, beat, free jazz, Middle Eastern, and African music. Mostly instrumental, and with no particular penchant for getting anywhere in a hurry, Sun City Girls often sounded like incidental music scoring a micro-budgeted independent film. Which is good, because no small percentage of their albums are titled as soundtracks to obscure independent films that may or may not have ever been made.

Such is the case with Dulce, a sprawling, arrythmic lesson in “out” music. Rarely does a melody get going for more than ten seconds, before being buried under a wash of random, crashing percussion or ambient noise. This is the kind of music that’s playing in Other Music while you’re going through stacks of used CDs, looking for cheap old emo records (if you’re anything like me, that is). It’s grinding (“The Victory Biological”), and numbingly ambient (“Unwind Your DNA”).  While it never sets into a simple groove, tracks like “Bobbing the Bloody Vats” come off simultaneously repetitive and totally random. You wish the store had that copy of Orange Rhyming Dictionary you were eyeballing last week, and that the staff of Other Music would play some music that fit in with the American Pop idiom.
More on Sun City Girls | Dulce Soundtrack

NOT ROCK
Rich Mullins
“You Did Not Have a Home”
The Jesus Record
1998 | Myrrh Records

Since this is being posted on Easter, I figured it an appropriate time to cover a piece of Christian, or Christ-inspired, music. In the interest of full disclosure, I am a practicing Catholic, and my day job is church-related. When it comes to Christian music, however, 99% of it leaves me really disappointed. There are people on all levels of the political, spiritual, and practical spectrum of any given religion – but it seems that mostly only the ultra-conservative, zealous, fringers write songs about their faith.

I’ve been around Christian music long enough to find a few diamonds in the rough though. And I’ve decided to focus on one song in particular for this article. It was not a “hit” on Christian radio, nor is it one that is very well known. But I think it does all the things any good song should do: it has a unique perspective, it has a well-written melody, and it has good lyrics. It was written by the late Rich Mullins, and is called “You Did Not Have a Home.”
More on Rich Mullins | “You Did Not Have a Home”

HIDDEN GEM
Jets to Brazil
Orange Rhyming Dictionary
1998 | Jade Tree
B

I have a huge stigma against any band that a lot of people around me – a lot of people beyond my immediate social circle – are way into. In the early aughts, when I was worshiping at the foot of alternative country, prepared to lick Robbie Fulks’ bootheel if requested, I turned a snob’s nose up at whatever popular rock band was on everyone’s tongue but mine. And I missed out on a lot of groundbreaking stuff: Neutral Milk Hotel, The White Stripes and the Dirtbombs all came around, and I stubbornly missed them, only to learn what everybody already knew once they were gone. I cursed my bad fortune every time.
More on Jets to Brazil | Orange Rhyming Dictionary

HIDDEN GEM
Jets to Brazil
Orange Rhyming Dictionary
1998 | Jade Tree
B

I have a huge stigma against any band that a lot of people around me – a lot of people beyond my immediate social circle – are way into. In the early aughts, when I was worshiping at the foot of alternative country, prepared to lick Robbie Fulks’ bootheel if requested, I turned a snob’s nose up at whatever popular rock band was on everyone’s tongue but mine. And I missed out on a lot of groundbreaking stuff: Neutral Milk Hotel, The White Stripes and the Dirtbombs all came around, and I stubbornly missed them, only to learn what everybody already knew once they were gone. I cursed my bad fortune every time.
More on Jets to Brazil | Orange Rhyming Dictionary

Hidden Gem:
The Crust Brothers
Marquee Mark
1998 | Telemoro

“That was not ‘Range Life,’ snaps Stephen Malkmus in his distinctive nasal-nonchalance. The hopes of a room-full of silent kids and summer babes are quickly dashed immediately after Malkmus inadvertently plays the first few notes of the twangy, slacker-rock anthem off Pavement’s second full-length. Stephen won’t be playing anything off of Crooked Rain Crooked Rain, or the rest of his band’s extensive catalogue, on this night. The crowd is even further instructed that the “next person who yells out a Pavement song gets hit over the head.” Which is why, on one level, Marquee Mark by the Crust Brothers—the name Malkmus and labelmates/able rhythm section Silkworm assumed for a brief charity tour in 1997—is such a tease.
More on Record Review: Marquee Mark

Talk Show
Talk Show
1997 | Atlantic
C

Scott Weiland
12 Bar Blues
1998 | Atlantic
B+

After releasing their third record, Tiny Music…Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop, the shit hit the fan for Stone Temple Pilots. Singer Scott Weiland was busted for drugs yet again, and this time the other three guys in the band were fed up. Both camps (the instrumentalists vs. Weiland) decided to work on something else for awhile, and over the course of the next 2 years, those “something else’s” released commercially disappointing records.

The first to arrive was the eponymous debut record from Talk Show. Talk Show was the non-Weiland Pilots – drummer Eric Kretz, bassist Robert DeLeo and guitarist Dean DeLeo joined by former Ten Inch Men singer Dave Coutts. The brothers DeLeo were outspoken in their want to be in a more stable band, and one in which they could give more direction to the lyrics and vocal melody (Weiland was notoriously reticent to let anyone work with his vocals), and. Coutts was apparently only too happy to oblige.

The record doesn’t feel too different from a STP record at first – many of the same elements are present – Kretz and the DeLeos were not looking to reinvent their style as much as amend it with a new vocalist (reportedly, this record and Tiny Music were written concurrently). The difference lies in the vocals.
More on Double Review: Talk Show & 12 Bar Blues