Lost in the ’90s: Chumbawamba, “Amnesia”
Thursday, September 4th, 2008 by John C. Hughes
Anyone who’s ever worked at a record store that buys and sells used CDs can tell you what titles they see over and over again. Jagged Little Pill, Cracked Rear View, the entire Cranberries catalog … these are discs that clog the bins coast to coast, as music buyers buy, absorb, and ultimately get sick of these huge mega-hits. The second type of disc you see a lot is the one-hit wonder album - Vanilla Ice’s To The Extreme or today’s featured artist’s album, Chumbawamba’s Tubthumper.
A loose collective of musicians who had been making music in the U.K. since the early ’80s, Chumbawamba had a number of indie releases under their belt before signing to EMI in 1997. Tubthumper, their major label debut, was their 7th overall (or so, depending on whether you count live sets or offshoots), so calling them a one-hit wonder, while technically correct in the States, seems a little unfair. But that one hit, “Tubthumping,” was a doozy, blasting out of radios and MTV for what seemed like an hourly basis. The single went Top 10 and it brought the album along with it, eventually selling over three million copies. Trouble is, most people who bought it listened to the hit and had little time for the other eleven songs.
That’s a bit of a shame since at least one other song on the album isn’t bad at all. It just happens to be the second single “Amnesia,” (download) a charging, horn-accented driving song that should be used as the theme music to some sports highlight show somewhere. While American radio seemed to embrace the single, sending it fairly high up the airplay chart, singles buyers were nonplussed and the song failed to chart on the Hot 100. Perhaps it was Alice Nutter’s, um, uncertain vocal that kept it from being a hit. While a little Nutter went a long way as an accent on “Tubthumping,” perhaps a lotta Nutter was too much. Or maybe it was the tango break in the middle of the dance/rock hybrid that threw people off. (more…)



Naked Eyes, ABC, Belinda Carlisle, and the Human League are currently crisscrossing the country on the Regeneration Tour, an oldies-revival trek that thankfully isn’t entirely mired in nostalgia, since all the bands involved are performing more than just rote lists of hits. I caught the Regeneration Tour at the Gibson Amphitheater in Los Angeles a couple weeks ago, and I can say it’s definitely worth the time (three hours!) and money. Lost in the ’80s fans will appreciate the deep set lists that have liberal sprinklings of album cuts and even some new tracks.
Throughout the ’80s and ’90s, Morrissey made quite of a bit of noise in the music press (this is back when he deigned to speak with them) about bands he had a fondness for and wished to support. Being a dyed-in-the-wool Moz disciple, I’d usually read about these acts, then shuffle off to the record store to buy a single or album and give them a shot. While the man’s music tends to be on the impeccable side, sadly his taste level is about 50/50. For every truly great band like James or Suede Morrrissey would champion, there’d be an equally vile Kristeen Young or :::shudder::: Gallon Drunk.
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Here’s one I’ve been saving because … well, I’ve been too lazy to break out the USB turntable.
Knoxville, Tennessee combo Superdrag’s 1996 major-label debut, Regretfully Yours, will always remind me of driving. Y’see, I was finishing up college at Cleveland State University, which was about a 40-minute drive from my place in suburban Elyria, Ohio. Not exactly a hotbed of culture, mind you. Luckily, Regretfully was about the perfect length for the one-way trip, so that final semester of school, I would use it as my driving music. By the time that last song hit, I knew it was time to start looking for parking (of course, I could play it all the way over again by the time I’d find a spot on a busy Wednesday).
Since we’ve got
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When Ian McCulloch left Echo & the Bunnymen in 1988 for a solo career, no one really expected the rest of the band to carry on without him, much less attempt to replace him. McCulloch was such a singular rock presence, mixing Jim Morrison brooding with goth attitude (before there was such a thing), that any attempt to slot a new singer in his spot was nearly unthinkable. But the Bunnymen did, in fact, soldier on, and the results were surprisingly good — maybe even better than
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