Bushy Offspring aka Regulate yo Sweater

I read somewhere that the music a person loves at the age of 14 is the music they will be attached to the strongest for the remainder of their lives. The theory is that 14 is the average age where a person forms their own musical identity. They explore and connect to music outside of what their parents/siblings/ etc. listen to. 

In short you lose your musical virginity. You experience music outside the Phil Collins-Huey Lewis-Les Miserables- Elton John-Beach Boy paradigm (just me?) for the first time. You connect to something you didn’t know existed. Sounds, words and volumes that were completely alien to you previously. Your parents hate it and that just seems to justify it further. It showcases you as a separate entity.

You are defining yourself as a person, independent of your shared family identity and your taste in music is a big part of this. I’d argue that the musical discovery takes precedence over you as a person at this age, mostly because you’re fucking 14 and it’s going to take 15 more years to figure out what kind of person you are or want to be. Cranking up the volume on the Van Halen album you rented out from the BookMobile is a much easier way to define yourself than going through the hardship of figuring out who you are. 

That’s why the connection to music is so strong at this age, that’s why it sticks with you forever; it defines you and the lack of definition in you. You ARE that band/artist/DJ/lyric; you take their identity to fill in for the identity you haven’t discovered from within yet. 

With all that in mind, I thought it would be a curious exercise to see what music I loved at 14, what was popular and if this theory is worth a damn. 

The Offspring – Self Esteem:

The pop punk explosion of 1993/94 (Green Day’s ‘Dookie’/Rancid’s ‘Out Come the Wolves’/NOFX’s ‘Punk in Drublic’, Bad Religion’s ‘Stranger Than Fiction’ and Offspring’s ‘Smash’) would end up being something that changed my musical taste forever. 

At this point in my life I was rocking khaki’s, tucking in my jean dress shirt and gelling down my hair to the point where it was a bulletproof comb over (note: I owned Tommy Hilfiger underwear and wore my pants a little low hoping that someone would see that lame ass symbol up front, most likely so someone mistook me for Marky Mark). Then boom, the Offspring and Green Day were on the radio everywhere. Ya ya ya it’s ‘not real punk rock’, who cares. For a kid who grew up in the suburbs in Calgary it was fast, aggressive, and talked about sex. SOLD. 

The Offspring’s hit made it okay to admit in song that you had no idea what to do with girls, that you lacked any real idea about who you were and that you saw little self-worth in yourself. “I may be dumb, but I’m not a dweeb. I’m just a sucker with no self-esteem” This was one of my gateways into Punk and thus indirectly responsible for the blue hair and multiple piercings that marred my early 20s. 


Weezer – The Sweater Song:

Weezer was kind of like ‘Nirvana lite’ back then. If you couldn’t get into the whole “Teen Spirit” thing and the screaming that accompanied it, Weezer was an easy middle ground. Melodic and poppy almost to a fault, this was a 14 year olds dream. It has the whole 90’s ‘quiet then loud’ thing down to a science. You were able to feel indie and cool without having to do the homework. Play this at a party with a bunch of 30-somethings and every single person in the room knows the words. What’s this song even about? Does it even matter? The correct answer is ‘No’.  

I try to still like Weezer, to respect them, I really do. I, along with countless others, have a connection with the band because of the Blue Album. You felt cool when you hung out with them, that elusive nerd indie cool. I’d guess that kids today feel the same thing when they listen to that “Somebody that I Used to Know” song. 

Maybe I didn’t call often enough, maybe I stopped taking them out on dates, maybe I put on 20 pounds and started drinking; whatever the case might be we broke up shortly somewhere between Pinkerton and the Green Album. It’s not you Weezer, it’s me.  And like any girl you dated when you were a teenager you fondly recall some really good moments but odds are if you ran into her today she’d be totally shitty. 


 
Warren G – Regulate:

Welcome to white kid Hip Hop:101 circa 1994. Every suburban kid I knew was rocking Mr. Warren G back then. Most of the appeal is that it’s actually a pretty hardcore song without detaching your average suburban kid lyrically. In short you can understand the words because the pacing is slow. You play Fu-Schnickens’ “True Fuschnick” for some white kids in suburban Canada in 1994 and that shit is intimidating as hell at first listen. 

Warren G was a warm hip hop blanket for the white teens who wanted to be down. You could connect without looking like an idiot (well you could say the words right, you probably still looked like an toolshed singing about ‘letting your gat explode and then switching back to freak mode’).

The negative side of the spectrum is you now had white teen kids trying to act like hip hop stars. A phase I ran head first into around 16. Cue me rolling one pant leg up once I had enough beers in me and saying ‘Yo’ a lot, like A LOT. I’m pretty sure Warren G is personally responsible for me not getting more action when I was a teen. 

I didn’t hurt that Nate Dogg sounded bad ass on anything he ever did ever. Put Nate Dogg on a Miley Cyrus song and sign me up yo. Regulator’s, mount up. 

Bush – Glycerine:

Alright I’ll admit it. I was into Bush, or Bush X, or whatever else they needed to be called. They deceived me. Well played Gavin Rossdale, well played. This is a perfect example of a musical connection that exists due to its timing in a person’s life. The song is shitty, plain and simple. Lyrically it’s a disaster. It plays off the 1990’s guitar driven grunge scene without being authentic. And worst of all it’s a cheap trick.

The trick was you were able to fake sensitivity by liking this song, both externally and internally. You’d put it on when having a moment with a girl (or on a well-timed and planned out mix-tape), showcasing how sensitive you were, which was just passing along the lie Bush fed your poor teenage brain. 

“Why did Johnny turn out to be such a jerk? He was so understanding and vulnerable”. No Sally he just listened to “Glycerine” a million times and it became his costume, until inevitably his actual self (dumb teenage boy) showed up. 

Internally you could sit and ponder and commend yourself on how deep you were. You were 14, this shit sounds like Edgar Allan Poe to a 14 year old. You were almost forced to take your interpretation of the meaning of the lyrics, the mood and internalize it at that age. I can’t imagine the amount of crappy teen songs and poems this song spawned, myself included in the guilty party. This song is 100% liable for several regrettable notes passed from me to girls with all the right intentions, but with horrific consequences. Pretty sure I signed one as “Orange Sorbet” by the way. For some weird reason we never dated.


 

In summary I imagine it is the spirit of getting your musical cherry popped that sticks with you the most. The tones and themes of the songs. They linger and you connect to new artists based on some of these first experiences. I loved Warren G so I love Lil Wayne. I loved the Offspring so I love Propagandhi. Perhaps that’s why I find dubstep so insufferable; I have no context to connect to it. Oh and cause it’s shitty.