In Music We Trust >> Frontpage
July 13, 2024

Search In Music We Trust
Article Archives
>> Article ArchivesFeatured ArticlesInterviews & Show Reviews#ABCDEFGHIJKL MNOPQRSTUVWXYZVarious ArtistsDVD Reviews
A 90's Music Retrospective
By: Bernadette Giacomazzo

A poem about what we write about -- the past, the present, and the future...may we always trust in the music of our generation...

In Music We Trust: A 90's Music Retrospective

Next Generation
Generation X

We had our Woodstock
(capitalistic disgrace)
Grunge music
Sid Vicious, we hardly knew ye

Eddie Vedder may be the prince
But Cobain was our king
Our pied piper
Our shaman
Face to face with our raw, aching hearts, he was
The man
Who sold the world

Metal is dead
Long live the flannel shroud
(what the hell were we thinking?)
Dancing on the grave
Of the poets who died
By the needle they lived by

And how dare we try to understand
All there is to understand
About the crying game
When all we did was watch
As the horse stampede
Took Shannon and Brad
(what the hell's so great about the drug?)
And we let our angst
Create a wall
That could only be penetrated
By the microchip for the Internet
Brought to you by Micro$oft
And what do we do?
We download the pictures
Of the cocks we suckle
In an orderly fashion

When the Italian
Reggio Calabrese
Gianni Versace
(per sempre nel nostro cuore)
Took the bullet
Of a crazed man's sick desires

Alice in Chains
Andy Wood was a little too late

So we look to our forefathers for the guidance we needed

Oh Michael Stipe
We need your beautiful rain
We've lost our religion
We've lost our Kurt
Somewhere along the line
We lost all perspective
Where are you going?
Will you take us with you?
Let us in!

What's the story
With this newfound British Invasion?
(Help, Mick!)
And then this new craze
The urban subculture
Of ecstasy and electronica

Send in Echo and the Bunnymen

Exit stage right
Newfound Hindumania
Radio Free Tibet
And let Lollapalooza headline Metallica
(have mercy on us all, Perry; whatever it was, we're sorry already)

Keep on rocking in the free world
As Neil Young mines for a heart of gold in a jam of pearls
And Bon Jovi laid us down in a bed of roses
But lost somewhere in the middle
Of Smashing Pumpkins and Snoop Doggy Dogg
(bow wow wow)
Were the throngs of stoned teenage girls
Moshing in a crudely made pit
All the while hoping to get a good glimpse
Of the enchanted forest in the back of our minds
Wanting to find the wicked garden
The place to find you

Well you oughta know
In this crazy system of male domination
Alanis was one of many
Who wouldn't take it anymore
She's a womyn
Hear her roar
Pussy power
Hard-ass estrogen
Tough-as-nails wymyn with rock 'n' roll in their veins
And let's not forget Merideth Brooks
So let the morons like Gwen Stefani
Tell us how we're all just girls
Gwen, you phony pig
Is that what we're all about?
Nay, no doubt
No doubt we're L7-Year Bitch
All in Mia's memory
Gits back, we're ready for your ignorance
And we're not going back to the kitchen or the sewing machine
Because sisters are doing it for themselves

Poetry, like a candle, was a fading light
As we heard the last howl
And saw the best mind of the Beat Generation
With our hysterical, naked eyeballs
Take the final bow just outside Fugazi's
Rest in peace
Allen Ginsberg
And I hope you'll forever be with Carl

But we're still lost
We're still confused
We're still trying to find
Shelter from the storm

And the blood, the wine, blood and wine of innocence lost
Spilled over on the gangsta world
Biggie and Tupac
Where have you gone
Let them fight for their right to party
Without shot ringing out
Whoso shall deny the right to kill

And what of our Antichrist Savior
On a mission from God?
(Or was it Trent?)
To save the world from a religious Neo-Fascism
To save the cloned sheep from Baal's temple
(And you are sheep)
But the truth is ugly
So we kill the prophets
While TipperandJessieandNewt
And the neo-Nazi Religious Reich
Decide to murder the First Amendment
(Land of the free, home of the brave)
And instead fund the stealth bombers that kill our children
(To the tune of $2 billion each)
Rest your head on a concrete pillow
It's your right to tell, it's our right to listen
We've gone too far, we can't turn back
We weren't born with enough middle fingers

What a crazy, fucked-up trip it's been
What a bitch it is getting old
We've lost our Jerry
Somewhere in a purple haze
We're no longer dreaming out loud
We're no longer grateful to be dead
One more log to add to the burning sacrifice
One more joint to smoke
Light 'em up

And here we are
With no songs for our souls
(May as well not have breath for the body)
No morale
No morals
Catch us, we're falling
We're falling all over each other with our Nike hats on backwards
While beats that came from outer bass
Vibrate in our ears
You, too
Once the rebels, once the alliance
Once bulleted the blue sky in mysterious ways
But now selling your soul to the electronic Lucifer

But for one moment
For one, brief moment
Before they found the Last Great Innocent
Washed up on the shore 'neath world famous Beale Street
With butterflies in his soul and Jimmy Page on the radio
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound
The crown which was rightfully his
Passed down among the generations of the righteous
Was stolen
In that one fateful swim
The voice of a new electric youth
Destroyed by a flood
And no rainbow will be laid down now

So go back to your turntables
Make all your empty promises
You, the few, the proud, the members of Generation Swine
(aren't you proud)
Trip on Mr. X
Become the faithful sheep they want you to be
There's no more here for you to see

But remember
Just remember
My children
(Sweet, innocent and clueless children, how I love you so)
Remember that for one moment
For one brief shining moment
The music you wish to bury now
The music in which we once trusted
Was once a memory, was once sung true
Just once
It was once all so real

And the bands play on . . .

Copyright © 1997-2024, In Music We Trust, Inc. All Rights Reserved.