A trend I see on social media these days is parents “locking in” core memories for their children. They'll take the kid to the zoo and pet a lion, or they'll go to Disney World and meet Cinderella. We're talking about little kids under 6, and the caption will say something like CORE MEMORY ACTIVATED. As a concept, you could convince me this was something parents have been doing for a long time, but in reality, the phenomenon blew up on TikTok after someone remembered the concept as a plot point in the 2015 film Inside Out. 

"Core Memory Unlocked," like "Bucket List," never existed before a Hollywood screenwriter came up with it.

Talk about an Idea Factory. 

I routinely joke with my family that I have no memories of anything that happened to me before age 10. I am familiar with the events that transpired in my life before that age, but whether I actually remember them is up for debate. Do I have the memory, or do I recall it because someone told me about it? 

For example, we took a family trip to Boston at some point before I was ten. I could have been 4 or 9. I have no idea. I've seen the photos. The only thing I remember about the trip was waiting outside in line at a museum. Joe and I were running around on the grass in a place where no one was supposed to be on the grass. The grass had one of those shin-high rope fences meant to keep people off the grass. It was chained around the entire perimeter. As we ran on and off the grass, I tried to hop the fence, tripped, snapped the rope, and the whole rope perimeter collapsed. It was the first moment in my life that I "remember" feeling like everyone was looking at me. 

But did it even happen? When I ask my family about it, no one has this memory. 

So forgive me for my skepticism regarding "CORE MEMORIES" being locked in a child's brain. I get why you'd want the memory of them meeting their newest sibling to be etched in their brain; it's romantic to think that in 30 years, they'll remember that moment. But isn't it equally as likely they'll better remember the time you carried them through the Minneapolis skyway frantically searching for a bathroom because they thought they were going to poop their pants instead?

So let's talk about memories, specifically your memory of the nineties—or, because this is more of a lecture than a discussion, my memories of the nineties.

I remember Princess Diana dying. I remember the Atlanta Olympic bombing. I remember knowing who Monica Lewinski was but not understanding why she mattered. I remember getting in trouble for saying the word Ass in second grade. I remember a soccer coach telling me he was going to give me a blow and, not knowing what that meant. I remember hanging out at a girl's house because most of the girls I had crushes on hung out at her house, and her mom would drive us around. 

One thing I am confident about is that we were NOT listening to any of these songs, exclusively from the 90s, that I am about to write about. Instead, we would have been listening to a lot of Brittany Spears, N*Sync, Backstreet Boys, LFO, and maaaaybe Hi My Name Is, but definitely an edited version where Eminem starts by asking: Do you like Primus? 

The 90s were an idyllic time for me. I was between the ages of 3 and 13. These are no doubt “formative” ages but I would not go as far as to call them the most essential years. I mean you can’t have the rest of the years without these ones, so they’re key, but I think I came to be more of who I am in subsequent years rather than these years. I spent a lot of time listening to the song about Peaches and Barenaked Ladies during the 90s, neither of which made the list. Part of me but not key pieces of me, ya know?
There is some debate about what it means to be a child of the 90s. Does it mean someone born in the 90s? Someone who experienced key cultural moments during the 90s? Or someone who lived their true childhood during that timeframe? The jury is out on which is which, but in my book, it's the ones who were old enough to know that there was a show on MTV called Road Rules but not old enough to watch Mallrats until long after it was in theatres. 

This Week's Theme: Four Songs From the 90s

Song
Devil's Haircut
Artist
Beck
Released
1996
Lyric
Love machines on the sympathy crutches
Discount orgies on the dropout buses
Hitching a ride with the bleeding noses
Coming to town with the briefcase blues
One Word
Absurdist
|More Than One Word|

During my fated homestay in Paris with the family who left me in the rain, I had two CDs. One was the CSNY album that allowed me to listen to Suite: Judy Blue Eyes a lot. The other one was Beck's Sea Change. Listening to Sea Change happened accidentally. I have no idea the circumstances under which I came to experience this deviation in Beck's career from electronic grunge weirdo to mature songwriter emotionally. But here I was in a Parisian suburb, listening to a very calming Beck album. It allowed me to pass the days in a subdued stupor. 

Conversely, if I had brought Beck's Odelay, who is to say I would have been as passive? This album rocks. 

The opening track on Odelay is Devil's Haircut, and it is decidedly not mellow or mature. Think for a moment what you think a devil's haircut is. The devil is not, in all of his appearances in religious iconography and whatnot, is not known for his haircut. Goatee? Yes. Horns? Most of the time. Haircut? Not often. 

Musicians do not need to be literal. Most of the time, I prefer when they are not. I want them to paint a bizarre picture that takes me on a journey of the mind. There is some speculation that Beck is out here talking about selling out and getting yourself a corporate cut. Something you could be proud of walking into the office and showing off. In your estimation, how many memorable haircuts do you think you've gotten? Would you call any of them a Devil's haircut? 

Song
Otherside
Artist
Red Hot Chili Peppers
Released
1999
Lyric
Pour my life into a paper cup
The ashtray's full, and I'm spillin' my guts
She wanna know am I still a slut?
I've got to take it on the other side
One Word
Flea
|More Than One Word|

This band is a perfect example of what I mean by the debate over a "child of the 90s." I was too young to have any clue about RHCP doing the thing where they came on stage to perform featuring the cock-sock. That bit ran through most of the 80s and early 90s. Whenever I heard about this band, I heard about how they performed, and I was mainly scandalized but slightly curious (How would a sock stay on?!). I was four when Blood Sugar Sex Magik was released, so I definitely missed the critical response to any of the songs or the discourse around the band. By the time Californication came out in June of 1999, I was pretty much OUT of the band. The Give It Away video creeped me out, and I thought there was no coming back. 

But then Flea started playing the power lines in the Otherside video, and I was swayed. It turns out that when these guys put some clothes on, they actually are pretty great! With Anthony Keidis belting out soulful yet bizarre lyrics while the rest of the band plays assorted items that are not typically instruments, Otherside is a song that slaps.

I am still reluctant to delve too deep into RHCP fandom and prefer their more mellow hits (Under the Bridge and Scar Tissue, namely), but there's no doubt they're an essential band of the decade. How important? I guess that's back to the "child of the 90s" point I made at the top. 

This is as good a time as any to delve into what it means to be a defining voice of a decade. 

Last week, I posited that Drake was an instrumental voice of the 2010s but was rebuffed by many readers. My bad. I think the current rap beef of 2024 will be a defining moment in hip-hop of the 2020s. Only time will tell.

It's hard to identify the voices of a generation, and truthfully, the concept is probably antiquated. No generation is a monolith, and tastes are too varied or niche for anyone to speak universally for anyone anymore. 

During a Tinder date in probably 2013, I suggested that Kanye West was the defining voice of "our generation." My date posited Lena Dunham. Hard to say who took a bigger L on that one, looking back. So where do the Red Hot Chili Peppers rank for the 90s? Were the consequential? Were they musically inspirational for current bands? Were they lyrically aspirational? What will be their musical legacy? People who came of age in the 90s will look at them differently than people who were children in the 90s. But each group will have some claim to them. So what is it for you? 

Who or what defined the 90s? Was 9/11 the defining moment of the 2000s, even though it happened at the absolute start? Same for Covid. Will that be what you remember about this decade, or have we memory-holed the whole thing that you'll pick anything else to not have to relive how dreadful that period was? As with the rap beef, I suppose only time will tell. 

Song
Needle in the Hay
Artist
Elliott Smith
Released
1995
Lyric
Gonna walk, walk, walk
Four more blocks, plus the one in my brain
One Word
Heroin
|More Than One Word|

It's about drugs, and it's sad. That both works as an explanation of this song and Elliott Smith's life. I was in college when I discovered his music, and I know I texted my brother about listening to XO and Either/Or. I expressed enthusiasm (weird, sure) about future outputs, and that's when he told me he was dead. This was a bummer for a lot of reasons. 

This song was featured in the Wes Anderson film The Royal Tenenbaums All things considered, this is my favorite Wes Anderson film. It features my second favorite Owen Wilson performance (Zoolander being first. Are we due for a Wilsonisance? Let's get that guy back into capital-A Acting, and if not acting... he co-wrote this movie. Let's get Owen a pen!), and it has a great Gene Hackman towards the end of his run (though let's pay respects to his work in his final two films "Welcome to Mooseport" and "Runaway Jury." Hard to believe that Hackman's most famous line reading of all time comes from the trailer of his penultimate film: YOU'RE LOSING ME MY JURY").

In The Royal Tenenbaums, Hackman plays a guy named Royal (sick name) who is trying to get his family back (there are many reasons he does what he does, but 'get his family back' is probably at the core of them). The film delves (hard) into dark family and personal dynamics, failure, redemption, and the traumas of growing up. The film has a fairytale-like structure and aesthetics, making it all the more potent when Anderson sets a Luke-Wilson suicide attempt to the dulcet and dark tones of Smith's Needle in the Hay. The music in the film, paired with the icon set design and memorable fashions, make this a rewatchable film, even if it's ultimately a sad portrait of a collection of sad individuals. 

Song
Praise You
Artist
Fatboy Slim
Released
1999
Lyric
We've come a long, long way together
Through the hard times and the good
I have to celebrate you, baby
I have to praise you like I should
One Word
Positive
|More Than One Word|

Shoutout to spouses. Shoutout to this song, too, but since the lyrics are pretty scant, there's little to debate, discuss, or hypothesize. So let's praise our spouses, or in this case, my spouse. 

Hey Leen, hopefully, you're reading this far. I don't know your thoughts on Fatboy Slim's Praise You (maybe you're more of a Weapon of Choice lady), but I bet you've heard this one. 

Just want to say, in honor of Mother's Day, that I praise you. And if I don't do it enough, I should do it more! 

Thank you for answering my silly questions about grammar and humoring me as I tell you about the NBA. Thank you for making lunch boxes for the boys that are seemingly the envy of every child and adult who gets a look inside. Thank you for staying on top of when the boys need new Crocs or sweatpants. Thank you for knowing how tall is too tall when it comes to Eliot's car seat. Thank you for continuing to make this house a home. You've been talking about a coffee table for years, and now that we have one, I love it. Thank you for reminding me that writing about songs I like is more fun than writing copy for Facebook posts for brands I don't associate with or have any relationship with. I love so many things about you and think the world of you. It's like James Blunt said, you're beautiful.

In addition to doing so much to better my world (and being a babe), it's important to note that you are an American now. 

I bet that you, as a child of the 90s, did not foresee a world where you would live in Minnesota, married to someone from Wisconsin with two children who are the epitome of what you'd want from a house that routinely has us screaming "have kids, they say!" "Two boys close to the same age, they say!" They're perfect, and I love them. And you're an American to boot! I mean, what a ride that was, huh? It was never really stressful (aside from the like one month where we didn't know if we could leave Qatar or come to America due to Covid-19), and never really in doubt (except for the time that USPS fucked us so hard and never delivered the Green Card but lied and said they did and got a US Senator in on the lie). I am proud of your perseverance and your patience along the way. This country is by no means perfect, but it's a little better with you as a member of the voting bloc. 

Plus, thank you for sticking with me, even though I learned most of my dance moves from this music video.