Top Ten Tuesday: Women of the '90s Edition
3/08/2016 09:11:00 PM
Listen, my musical taste wasn't particularly refined in the 1990s. Probably because I was a child. In 1999, I was ten years old, my favorite musician was Shania Twain, and I was on the verge of a major pop breakthrough in the form of my worryingly intense *NSYNC fandom. Fast forward five or six years, though, and I grew hungry for something more diverse. My journey began with Tori Amos, and she quickly led me down the path of other female singer-songwriters that came up around the same time. Although my tastes have shifted and expanded over the years, I wanted to pay tribute to the women and songs I still hold closest to my heart since, without them, I doubt I would be as infatuated with music as I am today.
As a side note, I've also decided to include music videos, when available, in lieu of Spotify links because this list is all about the '90s, after all, and I feel like that particular '90s essence can only be fully absorbed through music and visuals. So enjoy.
10. Katell Keineg - Hestia
Katell Keineg is a shockingly little-known Irish singer-songwriter. Her debut album, Ô Seasons Ô Castles, released in 1994, was probably her most successful and acclaimed. She may not be one of the era's heavyweights, but "Hestia," which I first heard probably a decade ago and still frequently get stuck in my head, perfectly encapsulates a sort of witchy, mystical, Kate-Bush-meets-Stevie-Nicks vibe. The moody backdrop of acoustic guitar, strings, and woodwinds perfectly sets the stage for the mythological slant of the lyrics. Keineg's effortless vocal performance, simultaneously rich and light, swells into a plaintive quaver in the chorus, as she sings, "I want you, but I don't want your monkey," turning the sentiment from head-scratchingly abstract to heart-wrenchingly painful.
9. PJ Harvey - Send His Love to Me
I have to admit I spent a long time trying to love PJ Harvey, but her music as a whole has never impacted me much. Still, there are notable exceptions. At times, I quite enjoy the rawness of her early albums, and "Send His Love to Me," from 1995's To Bring You My Love, is a particular favorite. It's bluesy and apocalyptic, built on furiously-strummed acoustic guitar, haunting organ embellishments, and Harvey's desperate, progressively more unhinged wail as she searches for her lost love. Basically, it's the perfect soundtrack to a black-and-white video set in a barren wasteland of a desert in which Harvey wanders around in a tattered dress cradling, banging together, and wildly dancing with a pair of dirty shoes. I imagine they're the aforementioned lover's, but it's still an unintentionally comedic sight.
I have to admit I spent a long time trying to love PJ Harvey, but her music as a whole has never impacted me much. Still, there are notable exceptions. At times, I quite enjoy the rawness of her early albums, and "Send His Love to Me," from 1995's To Bring You My Love, is a particular favorite. It's bluesy and apocalyptic, built on furiously-strummed acoustic guitar, haunting organ embellishments, and Harvey's desperate, progressively more unhinged wail as she searches for her lost love. Basically, it's the perfect soundtrack to a black-and-white video set in a barren wasteland of a desert in which Harvey wanders around in a tattered dress cradling, banging together, and wildly dancing with a pair of dirty shoes. I imagine they're the aforementioned lover's, but it's still an unintentionally comedic sight.
8. Kristin Hersh - Me and My Charms
I'd already been exposed to Kristin Hersh previously, but my most vivid memory of this song is hearing it at the end of the obscure 1996 film Foxfire (an edgy teen drama of questionable quality starring Angelina Jolie and noted child actress and indie goddess Jenny Lewis) and absolutely bawling my eyes out. Okay, this experience may have happened well into the 2000s, but isn't it still the most '90s thing you've ever heard? Before 1994, Hersh was known as the rocking frontwoman of Throwing Muses, but then she released her stunningly stripped-down and introspective solo debut, Hips and Makers. "Me and My Charms" is the album's clear standout, devastatingly naked in its unflinching admission of weakness: "You can't leave me now/I haven't left you yet."
I'd already been exposed to Kristin Hersh previously, but my most vivid memory of this song is hearing it at the end of the obscure 1996 film Foxfire (an edgy teen drama of questionable quality starring Angelina Jolie and noted child actress and indie goddess Jenny Lewis) and absolutely bawling my eyes out. Okay, this experience may have happened well into the 2000s, but isn't it still the most '90s thing you've ever heard? Before 1994, Hersh was known as the rocking frontwoman of Throwing Muses, but then she released her stunningly stripped-down and introspective solo debut, Hips and Makers. "Me and My Charms" is the album's clear standout, devastatingly naked in its unflinching admission of weakness: "You can't leave me now/I haven't left you yet."
7. Paula Cole - Mississippi
Yes, Paula Cole is mostly known for fluttery, inoffensive AC fluff like "I Don't Want to Wait" and "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?" But hear me out: she's actually got a ton of musical range, and her voice is one of the best to have graced contemporary pop. "Mississippi" is confessional and piano-based, but it's ultimately more Tori Amos than Sarah McLachlan, as Cole asks the listener in a confrontational whisper, "Who will love my many selves: the wife, the bitch, the Rapunzel?" While the lyrics are at times eye-roll worthy in their edginess ("I'm red and thick like fire/I like it from behind"), they're easily forgiven once the chorus, an explosive display of vocal prowess, hits. It's even more impressive live, to the point where Cole sounds downright possessed.
Yes, Paula Cole is mostly known for fluttery, inoffensive AC fluff like "I Don't Want to Wait" and "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?" But hear me out: she's actually got a ton of musical range, and her voice is one of the best to have graced contemporary pop. "Mississippi" is confessional and piano-based, but it's ultimately more Tori Amos than Sarah McLachlan, as Cole asks the listener in a confrontational whisper, "Who will love my many selves: the wife, the bitch, the Rapunzel?" While the lyrics are at times eye-roll worthy in their edginess ("I'm red and thick like fire/I like it from behind"), they're easily forgiven once the chorus, an explosive display of vocal prowess, hits. It's even more impressive live, to the point where Cole sounds downright possessed.
6. Veda Hille - Bellyfish
Another relative unknown, this time from Canada. I used to be obsessed with Veda Hille, but her music hasn't held up nearly as well for me in recent years; her albums are pretty inconsistent, and her recent stuff is a little too "theater kid" for my tastes. Still, her 1998 album, Spine, is a time capsule of awesome, a sort of very earnest Tori Amos/Ani DiFranco hybrid. "Bellyfish" is sweltering guitar rock made even creepier by the unsettling imagery in the lyrics ("He's got an eye for a spine on the side of the road/He knows how to use his hands and mouth"). Hille's distinct voice matches the song's nervous energy well. The video is a lo-fi mishmash of weird nature footage and awkward performance shots, which is so '90s. The audio is also unfortunately low, so crank those speakers up!
Another relative unknown, this time from Canada. I used to be obsessed with Veda Hille, but her music hasn't held up nearly as well for me in recent years; her albums are pretty inconsistent, and her recent stuff is a little too "theater kid" for my tastes. Still, her 1998 album, Spine, is a time capsule of awesome, a sort of very earnest Tori Amos/Ani DiFranco hybrid. "Bellyfish" is sweltering guitar rock made even creepier by the unsettling imagery in the lyrics ("He's got an eye for a spine on the side of the road/He knows how to use his hands and mouth"). Hille's distinct voice matches the song's nervous energy well. The video is a lo-fi mishmash of weird nature footage and awkward performance shots, which is so '90s. The audio is also unfortunately low, so crank those speakers up!
5. Sarah Slean - I Know
The Canadian takeover continues! Sarah Slean is so criminally underrated. Her early work is often slagged on for being kind of "Sarah McLachlan lite," and while it's true that Slean didn't truly come into her own until the 2000s, I think such a sweeping dismissal is unfair. In fact, "I Know," from her 1998 EP, Universe, is one of my favorite songs ever. It's so evocative and moody, a galactic swirl of piano and strings, and Slean's fledgling but ethereal voice is very endearing. The emotion-charged lyrics grapple eloquently with themes of religion and gender: "Jesus, I thought we had an understanding/The fact that you can buy a woman makes me want to die/And where were you last night?/Jesus, where were you?" I actually cried while writing about those lines, how embarrassing.
The Canadian takeover continues! Sarah Slean is so criminally underrated. Her early work is often slagged on for being kind of "Sarah McLachlan lite," and while it's true that Slean didn't truly come into her own until the 2000s, I think such a sweeping dismissal is unfair. In fact, "I Know," from her 1998 EP, Universe, is one of my favorite songs ever. It's so evocative and moody, a galactic swirl of piano and strings, and Slean's fledgling but ethereal voice is very endearing. The emotion-charged lyrics grapple eloquently with themes of religion and gender: "Jesus, I thought we had an understanding/The fact that you can buy a woman makes me want to die/And where were you last night?/Jesus, where were you?" I actually cried while writing about those lines, how embarrassing.
4. Tori Amos - Cornflake Girl
Listen, I can't name-drop Tori Amos that many times and not include her in this list, can I? I've loved her, I've hated her, and I've always come back to her in the end. Any number of her songs would have fit, and I know "Cornflake Girl" (Under the Pink, 1994) is the obvious choice, but it never gets old for me. It also never fails to get me playing air piano like a fake virtuoso. I mean, a straight-up pop song that contains, like, three spectacular piano solos, who else is going to give you that? This song is also very personal to me because I became the "raisin girl" abandoned for the cool "cornflake girls" around the same time I first heard it. The video is notable for giving us Tori as a sexy truck driver and Tori sexily re-appropriating a merry-go-round as a keyboard (which I feel on a spiritual level).
Listen, I can't name-drop Tori Amos that many times and not include her in this list, can I? I've loved her, I've hated her, and I've always come back to her in the end. Any number of her songs would have fit, and I know "Cornflake Girl" (Under the Pink, 1994) is the obvious choice, but it never gets old for me. It also never fails to get me playing air piano like a fake virtuoso. I mean, a straight-up pop song that contains, like, three spectacular piano solos, who else is going to give you that? This song is also very personal to me because I became the "raisin girl" abandoned for the cool "cornflake girls" around the same time I first heard it. The video is notable for giving us Tori as a sexy truck driver and Tori sexily re-appropriating a merry-go-round as a keyboard (which I feel on a spiritual level).
3. Björk - Bachelorette
Initially, I wasn't going to include Björk because she's always been so completely beyond comparison and, thus, doesn't fit in as easily with the rest of these women. Still, in musical history, she definitely occupies the same space, and her '90s output is just as important. "Bachelorette," from 1997's Homogenic, is densely cinematic, its rich string-and-piano arrangement underpinned by stuttering electronics. It is driven relentlessly forward by Björk's gutsy delivery of the evocative lyrics ("I'm a fountain of blood in the shape of a girl"), which ultimately devolves into a stream of raw, indecipherable vocalizing. The accompanying video, directed by Michel Gondry, is visually dated, but its meta-commentary on the pitfalls of celebrity is still fresh and compelling.
Initially, I wasn't going to include Björk because she's always been so completely beyond comparison and, thus, doesn't fit in as easily with the rest of these women. Still, in musical history, she definitely occupies the same space, and her '90s output is just as important. "Bachelorette," from 1997's Homogenic, is densely cinematic, its rich string-and-piano arrangement underpinned by stuttering electronics. It is driven relentlessly forward by Björk's gutsy delivery of the evocative lyrics ("I'm a fountain of blood in the shape of a girl"), which ultimately devolves into a stream of raw, indecipherable vocalizing. The accompanying video, directed by Michel Gondry, is visually dated, but its meta-commentary on the pitfalls of celebrity is still fresh and compelling.
2. Dar Williams - As Cool as I Am
This isn't the best song here, but everything about it so purely and poignantly screams, "This is the '90s!" As an impressionable teen, I thought that this song, from 1996's Mortal City, was an empowering lesbian anthem (I mean, it does revolve around the refrain, "I will not be afraid of women"). It's not. It's actually a just-as-empowering feminist anthem about a woman who goes from taking her jealousy over her lover's indiscretions out on other women to dumping that asshole and embracing a supportive female community. This is made clear by the endearingly on-the-nose video, which contains every hallmark of '90s production: awkward transitions from black-and-white to color; random superimposed words; Williams dancing down a hallway adorned with her lyrics; cheesy slow-motion; bad hair, maxi dresses, and combat boots. It's truly got it all.
This isn't the best song here, but everything about it so purely and poignantly screams, "This is the '90s!" As an impressionable teen, I thought that this song, from 1996's Mortal City, was an empowering lesbian anthem (I mean, it does revolve around the refrain, "I will not be afraid of women"). It's not. It's actually a just-as-empowering feminist anthem about a woman who goes from taking her jealousy over her lover's indiscretions out on other women to dumping that asshole and embracing a supportive female community. This is made clear by the endearingly on-the-nose video, which contains every hallmark of '90s production: awkward transitions from black-and-white to color; random superimposed words; Williams dancing down a hallway adorned with her lyrics; cheesy slow-motion; bad hair, maxi dresses, and combat boots. It's truly got it all.
1. Fiona Apple - Fast as You Can
It's unfortunate that the general public's knowledge of Fiona Apple has little to do with her music and more to do with her persona, which has been misunderstood and misrepresented since she debuted. Otherwise, she might be more rightfully hailed as one of the finest songwriters of her generation. While all of the above women have had their ups and downs (some settling into MOR blandness, others stuck in the past, a few bouncing back after some bumpy years), Apple has remained consistently at the top of her game. It probably helps that she releases music only when she feels ready: a twenty-year career distilled into four incendiary albums.
1999's When the Pawn... has aged particularly well. Released on the cusp of the millennium, it bridges the gap between "angry girl" rock and "sad girl" balladry, ultimately turning both stereotypes on their heads. "Fast as You Can" is a spit-fire tangle of jerky piano, disjointed percussion, and Apple's venomous lyrics, delivered with sardonic bite. Nearly every line is quote-worthy: "My pretty mouth will frame the phrases that will disprove your faith in man;" "If you're getting any bright ideas, quiet, dear, I'm blooming within." The playful video holds up, too, which makes sense, as it was directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, and includes a lot of iconic imagery, like this:
It's unfortunate that the general public's knowledge of Fiona Apple has little to do with her music and more to do with her persona, which has been misunderstood and misrepresented since she debuted. Otherwise, she might be more rightfully hailed as one of the finest songwriters of her generation. While all of the above women have had their ups and downs (some settling into MOR blandness, others stuck in the past, a few bouncing back after some bumpy years), Apple has remained consistently at the top of her game. It probably helps that she releases music only when she feels ready: a twenty-year career distilled into four incendiary albums.
1999's When the Pawn... has aged particularly well. Released on the cusp of the millennium, it bridges the gap between "angry girl" rock and "sad girl" balladry, ultimately turning both stereotypes on their heads. "Fast as You Can" is a spit-fire tangle of jerky piano, disjointed percussion, and Apple's venomous lyrics, delivered with sardonic bite. Nearly every line is quote-worthy: "My pretty mouth will frame the phrases that will disprove your faith in man;" "If you're getting any bright ideas, quiet, dear, I'm blooming within." The playful video holds up, too, which makes sense, as it was directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, and includes a lot of iconic imagery, like this:
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