No one suffered more openly on the horns of his stardom than Eddie Vedder, who took every available opportunity to minimize the uncritical worship his band inspired. The success of grunge presented a quandary for many of its practitioners accustomed to marinating in the untested righteousness of their anticonsumerism, they now had to grapple with the fact that millions of consumers, among them fist-pumping jocks and radio-loving dilettantes, were now wholly into their stuff.
It’s an all-access pass to self-acceptance-and like the main character in the song, you’ll immediately want to pay it forward to the next person who needs it. Emo? Fine-but “You Are Invited,” the record’s affecting centerpiece, also did icy electronic drum throbs a year before Radiohead’s “Idioteque,” and witty post-punk speak-singing a cultural eon before LCD Soundsystem’s “Losing My Edge.” Its message, delivered by Travis Morrison with genial yearning, was simple: What if you got a sheet of paper guaranteeing you could never be left out of the party again? The uncanny similarity between the “since you’ve been gone” refrain on another great Emergency & I song, “ The City,” and Kelly Clarkson’s subsequent smash hinted at D-Plan’s potential to transcend boundaries of genre and scene on a wide-eyed journey toward fist-pumping catharsis, “You Are Invited” embodies that welcoming generosity of spirit. Embraced by indie rock fans, their third album was bankrolled, and then ditched, by an easily distracted major label. Born from Washington, D.C.’s punk scene, they twitched around rhythms more like nervous jazzbos.
Dismemberment Plan: “You Are Invited” (1999)īy the time the Dismemberment Plan released Emergency & I, in 1999, the band didn’t fit into any existing niche. Instead, Picciotto delights in the promise of retribution: “History rears up to spit in your face.” By the time its whammy-bar riffs ring out and its “cha-cha-cha” chants start, Fugazi sound almost joyful. Between Brendan Canty’s aggressive tom hits and Ian Mackaye’s wiry guitar noise lies a protest song without any of the typical cliches or moral preaching. genocide filtered through Fugazi’s rousing brand of post-hardcore. Led by Guy Picciotto’s fuming vocals, “Smallpox Champion” is a scathing condemnation of U.S. Though historians debate if the method even worked, it’s a revolting act immortalized in the diaries of those who pulled it off-and the history lesson at the heart of In on the Kill Taker’s most energizing track. While colonizing the Americas in the 1700s, officers from Britain enacted biological warfare by intentionally gifting blankets infected with smallpox to Indigenous Americans. The first line of the final verse provides the most apposite reaction: “Ayo, that’s amazing.” –Andy Cush And yet, with no concessions to the mainstream save its blockbuster music video, it went platinum. They were never particularly aligned with commercial trends, but in 1997, at the dawn of the shiny suit era, this sort of wordy mythologizing was especially unfashionable. Over suitably dusty RZA production, with nothing remotely resembling a chorus, they go in for six minutes about Marvel comics and Mortal Kombat Tennessee Williams and Laurel & Hardy champagne bottles and squabbles with rival crews and, of course, the will of the Wu to rule it all. The monumental first single from their sprawling and uneven second album, “Triumph” is the Wu’s last great stand as a nine-man team and one of hip-hop’s greatest posse cuts. What about Raekwon’s white-gold tarantula, rhymed-unbelievably but perhaps inevitably-with “substantial-a”? Even U-God gets an all-timer in there, singing a song from Sing-Sing, sipping on ginseng. They’re great, but they stick in your head above the others partly by virtue of coming first.
No need to address Inspectah Deck’s opening lines, which everyone who cares about the Wu-Tang Clan already knows by heart, and has probably tried rapping themselves at some point. Because nothing sounds better than doing absolutely nothing. Marc and Sharon Costanzo share a lackadaisical vocal affect-it sounds like they hit the studio directly after getting burned on the beach-but where so many slackers couldn’t be bothered to shape their slothfulness into hooks, Len cares deeply about leisure: They’re committed to wasting away the hours that make up a dull day. Its foundational sample of Andrea True Connection’s disco classic “More, More, More” reveals itself as a grounding mantra, then the bliss goes widescreen once Len crash into the verse. The song comes into view slowly, like a mirage shimmering on the edge of a sun-bleached horizon. Somehow, a pair of Canadian siblings managed to capture the essence of Southern California in a single that turned into a summertime perennial. Of all the great one-hit wonders of the ’90s, Len’s “Steal My Sunshine” might be the most enduring and the most inexplicable.