60 Songs That Explain the '90s - "Only Wanna Be with You”—Hootie & The Blowfish

Episode Date: January 11, 2023

Rob spills on his love/hate relationship with LeBron James over the years while deep diving on how Hootie & The Blowfish got their name, the difference between primarily fun music and totally disposable music, and the imprint left by band. Host: Rob Harvilla Guest: Leslie Streeter Producer: Justin Sayles Associate Producer: Jonathan Kermah Additional Production Support: About Kamara Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

What's up, everybody? It's Austin Rivers from the Minnesota Timberwolves. It's a new year and I have a new podcast here at the Ringer, Offguard, hosted by me and my guide, Pasha Higigi. Austin and I go way back and talk so much hoop already that we figure those time to fire up the mics and let you in on all of these conversations. Every week, Pasha and I will hit on the biggest stories happening in the league.

And get Austin's perspective of someone currently hooping in the NBA. Tap into Offguard every Friday on the Ringer NBA show feed on Spotify or wherever you get your podcast. I picture my childhood memories now is a giant stack of mid-80s tops baseball cards with a big blue rubber band wrapped around them digging into the top and bottom cards of the stack. It's a terrible storage system. I need a binder or something. But I dig the stack because it still smells like tops bubble gum, right? The stick of gum that came in every pack.

It was bright pink and somehow powdery and super stiff at the same time. It's terrible gum. I loved it. That's my childhood. I get a stale bubble gum taste in my mouth if I even think about my childhood now. So like anything I did in 1985, I picture as a 1985 tops baseball card. Tops with two peas. 85 tops to design that year. The team names and big block letters on the bottom half of the card and it's tilting upward, left or right at like a 30 degree angle. The team logos in a little circle near the bottom right corner with a player name and position in small. or print below it. I lived in St. Louis, Missouri as a kid. Give me Ozzie Smith's 1985 tops card. St. Louis Cardinals shortstop, Hall of Famer. Every Cardinals' home game when they ran out on defense for the top of the first, Ozzie Smith did a backflip as he took the field as the crowd roared. That's my childhood, that backflip. So let's trade. You give me Ozzie Smith and I'll give you an 85 tops card of me at seven years old playing with He-Man's Castle Grey Skull. and listening to Ready for the World's number one pop hit, O'Shela.

Incredible song. Prince has nothing to do with that song, officially, which is also incredible. Ready for the World were from Flint, Michigan, and God bless them. I had a He-Man Big Wheel, also in this era, the giant plastic tricycle for rumbling up and down the sidewalk. I was committed to this IP. Seemed to me at seven years old, you were either a castle gray skull kid or a Snake Mountain kid, Snake Mountain being the layer of Skeletor. He Man's mortal adversary. Snake Mountain was quite goth and frightening and purple. And also came with like a microphone like it was a super goth karaoke machine. If you own Snake Mountain as a kid, you were 400% more likely to wind up in prison. No offense. Anything I did in 1986, I picture now as a 1986, Topps baseball card. Tops 86. Now the team names and bigger block letters right at the top.

Colorful letters on a black background player name and position at the very bottom. No team logo. Go ahead and trade me in 1986 Barry Bonds. Tops traded card. He's on the Pittsburgh Pirates. He got a mustache. He looks only slightly unamused. He's not bulked up to He-Man levels yet. That Barry Bonds card is selling on eBay right now for $90,756.99. So you train me Barry Bonds and I'll give you an Tops card of me at eight years old, looking for all the micro machines I lost under the couch while listening to I Can't Wait by New Shoes. Also an incredible song, that's New Shoes, N-U-S-H-O-O-O-Z, husband and wife, Latin freestyle duo from Portland, Oregon. Naturally, new shoes were inducted into the Oregon Music Hall of Fame, which exists in 2007 alongside the likes of Paul Revere and the Raiders

Dead Moon and Elliot Smith. Here we go. It's time for the real shit. 1987 tops, the wood panel year. Like a wood paneled background. Team logo in the upper left hand corner. Player name much larger and more prominent in the bottom right. I'm on the hunt for an 87 tops Bo Jackson rookie card.

It says future stars and big jazzy lettering. That card's selling on eBay right now for the far more reasonable price of $1,230.25. sense. So give me that and I'll give you an 87 tops card of me at nine years old, playing the Legend of Zelda on the fake gold NES cartridge with my TV muted while I listen to Fleetwood Max Tango in the Night on infinite repeat. Little lies, an even more incredible song. Rest in peace, Christine McVee, she's the best. In short, here in mid-80s, St. Louis is a 7, 8, 9-year-old. I am inventing the fusion of sports and pop culture. That's all me. I love sports. I love music. I jumbled them all up in my little melon head. I am a genius. I went to a bunch of Cardinals games in this era, but my most vivid musical Cardinals memory is standing outside Bush Stadium in 1985, the day of a World Series game. No way we could afford tickets, of course, but my mom and dad drove us downtown and we just strolled around the stadium way before the game, soaking in the electricity. And over the stadium PA system, they were blasting Glenn Fry.

his 1984 hit, The Heat is On. Glenn Fry from the Eagles, of course. Glenn is the member of the Eagles with the second best solo catalog after Don Henley. Rest in peace, Glenn Fry. Come to think of it, maybe The Heat Is On wasn't playing over the Bush Stadium, PA. Maybe it was just a guy, a busker with a saxophone, jamming on the truly incredible The Heat is on saxophone riff. This too is my childhood. Either way that happened, that's a precious and super vivid memory to me.

The St. Louis Cardinals made the World Series in 85 and 87, but lost both times to the Kansas City Royals and the Minnesota Twins, respectively, and I was crushed both times. I hate sports. I'm such a baby, yeah, the Cardinals make me cry. Then we moved to Cleveland. The Cleveland Indians, as they were then known, will not be an improvement. Emotionally, let's speed up and diversify a little. Go ahead and trade me a 1989 upper deck Ken Griffey Jr. rookie card. Upper deck's card design overall was fancier to make up for the lack of gum. And I will trade you a 1989 upper deck card of me at 11 years old, trying to learn to play the last

30 seconds of Epic by Faith No More on the family piano. Any radio station anywhere at any time that plays Epic by Faith No More, but doesn't play the full piano thing at the end, that station should immediately lose its FCC license, or at least immediately convert its format to, like, opera. I still can't play that on piano. I live in Cleveland now. I root for Cleveland.

I grow out of baseball cards because you know I'm into girls now. Sadly, the feeling is not mutual. Also, sadly, Cleveland loses the World Series in 1995 and 1997 to the Atlanta Braves and the Florida Marlins. respectively, and that sucks even worse. You ain't got to trade me nothing, but here's a 1995 Tops card of me, throwing our microwave into a tree

as the Indians lose the World Series with the TV on mute and the radio playing, You Gotta Be by Desire. That one goes out to Albert Bell. I hate sports. I'm such a baby, yeah, the Indians make me cry. The Cleveland Cavs and the Cleveland Browns

made me cry as well. come to think of it. My most vivid 90s Cleveland sports memory regrettably has no soundtrack. It's a silent movie. My dad took me to an early 90s game at the frigid and iron gray, an impressively

charmless Cleveland Municipal Stadium, and I'm sitting there happily shivering in the stands. It's like negative 25 degrees or whatever, but somehow still raining. And an older gentleman, several rows down from us, is guzzling from a plastic bottle of

Hershey's chocolate syrup. You know, the classic brown 24-ounce bottle for when you make ice cream sundaes or whatever, it squeezes. But he is not drinking Hershey's chocolate syrup, if you take my meaning. He has replaced the chocolate syrup

with some other more potent liquid, which is now spraying in a graceful glittering arc from the Hershey's bottle directly into his mouth, as I watch awestruck. a truly beautiful and historical image.

It was the birth of Venus of Cleveland. Alas, I do not recall what was thundering out of the Cleveland Municipal Stadium PA. At this exact moment, let's just make something up. Let's say it was Ugly Kid Joe's hit 1992 cover of Cats in the Cradle. That song fits, actually. I'm coming home, son, right after I finish this chocolate syrup. I refuse to talk about the Browns even for money. I hate sports.

I'm such a baby. Yeah, the Browns make me cry. I grow up nominally. I get a job. I move to Columbus, Ohio, with the Columbus Blue Jackets, joined the NHL in the year 2000. We're a real city.

We got hockey now. And I regret to inform you that this is the song, playing an incredible volume in nationwide arena before every game as the Columbus Blue Jackets take the ice. How intimidating is that shit? It was terrifying. The opposing team would often soil itself collectively.

Such was the trepidation inspired by Eiffel 65's 1998 smash blue parentheses Dabadi. So every game during the intro, after the visiting team collectively soils itself, they have to bring the Zamboni out to clean the ice. And diabolically, we just keep playing the song and repeat the whole time. I hate sports. I'm such a baby, yeah, the blue jackets make me cry. Mid-2000s, I moved to Oakland. I start rooting for the Moneyball era, Oakland A's, whose shit doesn't work in the playoffs.

And then I moved to New York City, but I miss all my friends in Oakland. So I fly back just to go to an A's game with them. And during the game on the Jumbotron, they do a highlight reel of the A's team that year, soundtracked by a later period song by the Who, called Real Good Looking Boy, and I get so emo, I start crying for real. I'm such a baby, yeah, Oakland A's highlight packages make me cry.

Two more. I live in New York City for five years, but nothing interesting ever happens sports-wise in New York, who gives a shit. Briefly, I moved back to Oakland. I got a job in San Francisco, and for the 2011 Oakland A's home opener, we rent a limo, and we rumble over the Bay Bridge toward the stadium, and the song we're playing at unreasonable volume in the back of the limo for reasons that surpass all understanding is Goodnight Saigon by Billy Joel. Just baffling.

And finally, on Sunday, June 12th, 2011, the single greatest personal collision of music and sports in my lifetime. I am in Nashville, attending a day, giant four-day country music festival that commandeers the Tennessee Titans Stadium known as LP Field at the time. Over a long weekend, I see Jason Aldeen, I see Riba, I see Speak Now era Taylor Swift. Now it's the last night. A famous rock star. Tens of millions of records sold is on stage. But forgive me for this, sir. I am ignoring the famous rock star because I am sitting in the Tennessee Titans press box, eating free food,

Don't get excited. It was like hot dogs or shit. And every TV in the press box is showing live game six of the NBA finals, which in 2011, as you'll recall, pitted the Dallas Mavericks against the Miami Heat, year one of the LeBron era Miami Heat. You'll recall that I am nominally a Cleveland Cavs fan. You'll recall that in 2010, LeBron abandoned Cleveland, announcing live. on ESPN that he was ditching the calves and joining the heat. I'm sorry, he said he was taking his talents to South Beach, the decision. You want some arcane ringer trivia, true story. The night of the decision I was playing poker in Brooklyn with future ringer big shots, Sean Fennessee, and Chris Ryan. And right after the decision was over, I said, I'm going to take my talents to the bathroom.

And then I went to the bathroom and everyone thought it was funny. And now I'm in the Tennessee Titans press box, ignoring the famous rock star, rocking out on stage, and vigorously rooting against LeBron. I'm not one of these guys out there burning his jersey and cursing his family name and whatnot. That's ridiculous. But I'm not going to fucking root for the guy. I was the biggest Dallas Mavericks fan on planet Earth for like 20 minutes. I have never rooted harder for a team in my life.

And we won. The Mavericks, one game six, thereby winning the NBA finals, and thereby proving that LeBron should never have left Cleveland and he should feel bad about it and possibly apologize to me personally. And at the precise moment of my personal greatest sports triumph, the great big rock star on stage, while I've been ignoring all this time, launches into his biggest and most beloved hit song and it was the sweetest song I'd ever heard. Yes, eat it, LeBron. I would like to take this moment to apologize to Darius Rucker,

rock god and solo country music superstar for my not paying very close attention to a set at L.P. Field in Nashville on the night of Sunday, June 12, 2011. I would also like to pervusely thank Darius Rucker for jovially soundtracking. what was at the time the most glorious sports victory of my lifetime when LeBron lost the NBA finals with the Heat the first time. LeBron and the Heat won the next two NBA titles. Oh, well, finally, I would like to inform you that my name is Rob Harvilla. This is the 84th episode of 60 songs that explain the 90s, and this week we are discussing Only Wanna Be With You by Hootie and the Blowfish.

Yes, only want to be with you from Hootie and the Blowfish's bonkers selling 1994 full-length debut album, Cracked Rear View. 20 million copies and counting of this record sold in the United States alone. And I need to ask you immediately, did you know that the album title Cracked Rear View? is a crude remark is a little bit of fifth grade toilet humor. Did you know it's cracked rear view as in your butt? When did you get that joke? How old were you when you got that joke? Because I was in my 40s.

Cracked rear view. I just got that. I just got that because an old Rolling Stone story spelled it out for me. I can't believe this. How do I not get that? I have played audio of the fart scene from Blazing Saddles multiple times on this show for literally no reason. How do I not get cracked rear view? I'm humiliated. It's like a reverse magic eye painting where you have to squint to not see it. Thankfully, that's the only stupid 90s album title to go totally over my head.

I just thought of another stupid 90s album. album title that went totally over my head. I finally got it like two weeks ago when I read about it in a book. You know, Snow, the Canadian reggae adjacent white rapper, Snow had a big hit with Informer off his 1993 debut album, 12 inches of snow. Did you know that 12 inches of snow was a dick joke? 12 inches, he's referring there to the size of his. be that I'm just too sophisticated to get that kind of humor. You ever think of that? Maybe I'm a little

too high brow to grasp something that low brow. Congratulations to me. Really? I'm still a genius. Look out. Top five dumbest 90s band names. This is happening. Here we go. Number five, the Gougu Dolls. Great song, obviously. Great band. Honorary Midwesterners, shout out Buffalo, go bills. The Goo Goo Goo Dolls is a terrible name. And the Goo Goo Dolls themselves have never had any problem telling you that. Number four, Moist. Moist are Canadian.

And after they opened for Green Day and Cleveland, Moist became quite popular among certain uncouth Cleveland area teenagers. A girl I knew in high school at an older boyfriend who skised everybody out. I forget how much older. He wasn't like four. but he'd graduated high school quite a while ago. And his big joke was that moist bush and sponge should tour together. And everyone was like, oh, this dude is gross.

That guy definitely had Snake Mountain as a kid, unless he was too old for Snake Mountain. Number three, sorry not sorry, the Cherry Poppin Daddies. Don't overthink it. It's gross. Speaking of which, number two, I can't say it. I could say it, I guess, but I don't feel like saying it. AX, CX is as close as I'll get. That's impressive, I guess, in its way.

Good for them. Keep me out of it. All right. Number one, you guessed it. As with the Goo Goo Goo Dolls, actually, Hootie and the Blowfish were very much a, let's name ourselves that for now, but think of something better later situation.

And then they got too popular to change their name. And once crack rearview hit and they got like world historically popular, you could read like 10,000 newspaper and magazine articles in which Hootie and the Blowfish frontman Darius Rucker requests politely but firmly that you stop asking him if he's Hootie and the other guys are the Blowfish. Mistakes were made. Darius named the band dude. He had a friend he nicknamed Hooty.

And another friend, he nicknamed the Blowfish. And when it came time to name his band, he was like, what about Hootie and the Blowfish? And two radiohead songs just popped into my head. And Karma Pleas is one of them. And this is the other one. A while back when we were talking about Counting Crows, I somewhat glibly described Counting Crows as grunge counter-programming. The overbroad idea being that once nervous,

Nirvana's Nevermind comes out in September 1991, and especially after it becomes the number one record in America in January 92. From then on, forevermore, the term 90s rock is synonymous with grunge, right? Or synonymous in general with distortion, with heaviness, with angst, with self-loathing, with extravagant super macho grumpusness. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Allison Chains, but also, as the decade rolls on, radio heads, smashing pumpkins, nine-inch nails, tool, etc. But when the first counting Crow's record, August and everything after, comes out in 1993, there's a sense not of a backlash, it's not any kind of cynical marketing scheme, but suddenly in 93 and 94 there's this burst of great records by newish bands who are janglier, sunnier, rootcier, jammer, and when they're grumpuses, they're at least less macho and more approachable

and their extravagant grumpusness. Dave Matthews Band, Rusty, Roots, Spin Doctors, The Wallflowers, Blues Traveler. Everything about this is imprecise, including the heavy versus soft binary. Blues Traveler, right, out of New Jersey. In 1994, they're already on their fourth album, which they call four, and they blow up thanks to their somewhat abrupt hit song, Run Around. But let it be known that there is no guitar solo by any 90s rock band, no matter how distorted and gnarly and angst-ridden, that is heavier than blues traveler frontman John Popper's fucking harmonica action on this shit. Dude is shredding.

That's a lot of notes. John Popper, he got the fishing vest with all the harmonica pockets. That will one day turn up on an episode of pawn stars. But for now he's shredding. Run around is the stairway to heaven of the 90s, is what I'm saying. Not really. Everything about this is imprecise. Including the notion that these bands all knew one another and liked one

another and sounded like one another and conspire together to run parallel to grunge. But when Kirk Cobain dies by suicide in April 1994 and grunge recedes as a mainstream dominating cynical marketing scheme, at least, the likes of Dave Matthews band, Rusted Rootts, Spend Doctors, The Wallflowers, Blues Traveler, and Counting Crows are well positioned to fill that vacuum. To offer a brighter and at least superficially cheerier alternative to the alternative to the alternative to the previous alternative. A sunny new era as befits what in retrospect anyway we imagine is an unnaturally sunny and carefree and low conflict decade. Sunny and carefree and low conflict for us, though, for the listener, for some listeners. Because what really unites all these

bands is that critics didn't like them and performative hatred of them ran rampant. And any worst bands of the 90s list now is going to over index on them. There's a tendency to reduce, say, Counting Crows to an LOL 90s late night show type punchline. In December 2020, Adam Durst of Counting Crows appeared on the Rolling Stone Music Now podcast, talking to journalist Brian Hyatt about a long December, a great conversation about that truly great song's origin story and enduring status is a grumpus holiday classic. But the conversation ends with Adam sounding truly weary as he laments how his band is still lumped in

with the hoodies and blues travelers of the world. And the crows have always been easy targets for the late night talk show hosts of the world. Heaviness and distortion are cool and confer prestige and respect, whereas janglier, rutsier lightness does not. It's the weariness.

in Adam's voice that gets me here. But it was a decade of being a joke and it's never I don't know that we're ever going to really recover

from that completely. You know, just the other day. And then he tells the story about a Jimmy Kimmel bit where Jimmy read a mean tweet about how nobody knows

more than three Counting Crow songs. Adams referring to the decade between Counting Crows making the cover of Rolling Stone in 1994 and the magazine

in Adam's opinion, finally starting to take the band seriously again around 2008, 2010, 2012, closer to two decades of being a joke, in his opinion. Counting Crows are a 90s band, but not a cool 90s band. No matter how big they got in 1994, no matter how big their brighter and sweeter sound got in 1994. And nobody in 1994 got brighter and sweeter and bigger than this. guy and those other guys. I had a crush on this girl in high school, right?

And she's got no idea. And one day in class, she's explaining to everyone how this song, Hold My Hand by Hooty and the Blowfish. She and her boyfriend, this is their song. At the homecoming dance, they really want a slow dance to this song. And I'm just nodding along and smiling going, oh, that's an excellent choice. You have such great taste.

But really, I'm thinking, well, now I don't care for that fucking song at all. nor do I care for your snake mountain owning dealhole boyfriend. But then like two hours later, I hear hold my hand on the radio for the 600th time. And the pre-chorus hits, right, with all the organ bombast and rad vocal harmony action. I'm like, oh, God damn it, this song is exquisite. And that's the moment when I become Skeletor. Ooty and the Blowfish named themselves that on purpose in 1986. After meeting at the University of South Carolina in Columbia.

Yes, the South Carolina Gamecocks. Pride of the SEC. A proud member of the SEC. I couldn't say if this was a specifically 90s phenomenon, but back then, at whatever college you have to be attending, reliably one guy at the party is going to be wearing the South Carolina hat that just says cocks on it, white hat, dark red lettering University of South Carolina and much smaller lettering below Cox.

It's hilarious. That guy is wearing that hat in lieu of just waving a giant used car lot-sized red flag at the party. Do not approach the Cox hat guy at the function. Yeah, yeah. Don't get involved. The Cox hat plus Snake Mountain Venn diagram is just a solid circle, a solar, clips of dill hole. That's where hooty and the blowfish are from. We got Darius Rucker

on vocals and guitar, Mark Bryan with a Y on lead guitar, Dean Felber on bass, and Jim Sonafeld on drums. As you are probably aware, Darius Rucker is black, whereas the rest of the dudes are white. This will, to put it mildly, compound the frustration of all those dudes on the street, many of whom are wearing Cox hats asking

Darius Rucker if he's Hootie. When Hootie and the Blowfish themselves make the cover of Rolling Stone in 94, drummer Jim Sonafeld, better known as Sony, Will Quip. Everyone says we're one black guy in an all white band, but that's

not true. We're actually three white guys in an all black band. End quote. Is that a quip? He might just mean that. Don't overthink it. When Darius Rucker and Mark Brian play live together for the first time as a duo performing as the Wolf Brothers at a South Carolina chicken wing restaurant named Pappies, the first song Darius and Mark ever play together is Take It Easy by the Eagles. That makes sense.

It's good advice also. Darius and Mark add Dean Felber on bass. First, they start playing covers at frat parties and what have you, the police, squeeze, REM, etc. After graduation, they add Sony on drums. The lineup is set. And then, Hootie and the Blowfish spend years plural as a plucky, hard-turing bar band. My favorite sentence in their Rolling Stone cover story is the giant list of bars they used to play. Rockefellas in Columbia.

The Music Farm in Charleston. The Purple Gator in Myrtle Beach. The Windjammer in Isle of Palms. All of those are in South Carolina. Kilroy's in Greensboro, North Carolina, the Mad Monk in Wilmington, North Carolina, the Georgia Theater in Athens, and then find OK wetlands in New York City.

That's cool. That's cooler. Hootie and the Blowfish plug away for years, plural. They get bigger. They get big enough that they can't change their stupid name. They talk to some record labels. They work up some demos. But not much happens until 1993,

when they self-release an EP called Coochie Pop. K-O-O-T-C-H-Y-P-O-P-P-1 word. Let me tell you something. I've repeated out loud some very stupid band names and album titles and song titles and lyrics in my time here. But that is the stupidest name for anything I have yet encountered. I will not say it again. forget it. If you forget the name of the first Hootie and the Blowfish EP, hit the 15 seconds back button twice in three, two, one, go. That's it. I'm not saying that again. The first song on the

EP that shall not be named is The Old Man and Me. I'm willing to bet you got a tiny little endorphin rush just now, a many thunderbolt of Saturday night exuberance, a warm and slow-blooming two and a half bud lights type sensation just from hearing 10 seconds of even pre-fame hooty and the blowfish these fellows excel at they exemplify good

vibes hooty and the blowfish then now and forever are a bar band but that's imprecise they are a sports bar band any bar in which hooty and the blowfish perform de facto becomes a sports bar it's a vibe

it's a great vibe they are the delightful mid-air collision of sports and pop culture. Hootie and the Blowfish, whenever and wherever they play live to this day, should perform in front of an extra huge Jumbotron airing Sports Center. On mute, but just the top 10 and not top 10 plays of the night on a loop behind Hootie and the Blowfish. That's the vibe. Spectacular vibe, not an insult, not even close to an insult.

janglier, sunnier, rootsier. Let me ask you something. Did you register that Darius Rucker just sang the words, in a voice filled with pain? He totally did. The old man, in a voice filled with pain, asks Darius where he's going. Here's where Darius is going. And it's not that this fun, light, jangly sounding song stops giving you an endorphin rush, a bud light infusion. you just get to balance those colossal good vibes with the knowledge that this is a song about an old grieving war veteran with a chorus of seen a million places seen a million faces die and so on i figured we'd better immediately complicate the image of hooty and the blowfish as a frictionless angst and conflict-free proposition they get sad they get angry sometimes. They're just not grumpuses about it. And that by 1994 makes them revolutionary. Or fine, counter-revolutionary. Hootie and the Blowfish get signed to a major label. To Atlantic, their debut album, Cracked Rear View, comes out in July 1994. In May of 1995, it hits number one on the Billboard album chart for the first of five times on its way to becoming the best-selling album of 1995.

on its way to be coming. As of 2021, the 10th best-selling album in United States history, just behind Garth Brooks Double Live and just ahead of fucking Fleetwood Mac's rumors. Fine. I give up. It's a great song. Hold My Hand as the first big single, off-cracked rearview. Peaks at number 10 on the Billboard Hot 100. No number one singles on the 10th best-selling album. of all time. No top five singles. Huh. Next big hooty song is Let Her Cry. It is a power ballad.

It is passionately and exquisitely sung by Darius Rucker. It also features, in my professional opinion, way too much crying. I jumped right to the last verse. It's the best part of the song. It finds Darius that is most passionate and exquisite. And yes, also, if you're letting me rewrite the lyrics, I would have cut out one of the crying jags here, either that one or this one. Of course, nobody's letting me rewrite the lyrics to anything for a variety of very good reasons, but mostly it's that I can't sing like Darius Rucker.

He got hold my hand in there. Bonus points for sneaking the title of your first hit song into the lyrics of your second hit song. Yeah, as a teenager, the 600th time I heard a letter cry in the radio. I'm thinking, man, this is just an absurd amount of crying. But I'm also thinking, wow, this guy kicks ass. From a musicalogical, from a scientific perspective, the fathoms deep kegstand bellow of Darius Rucker's voice,

the richness of that baritone, the palpable warmth that fuses so perfectly with the southern soft rock jangle of his band and cut so delightfully through the shrill, crunchy grumpness of grunge drunk alt rock radio. This all makes total sense. Cracked rear view is a societal phenomenon on a scale that I don't think I can fully convey to you beyond like shouting numbers. But the sudden explosive popularity of hooty and the blowfish is also actually very easy to explain. You don't need my help grasping the appeal. Nobody does. Nobody did. That applies

to this whole record. Cracked rear view. as a whole holds up, which is nice, which is never guaranteed. If you're going back to it now, and you spend a lot of time with it back then, I think it's safe to say that the song called time is the one that I'll do your head in now. Hits different in 2023, Donut. Super excellent jangle to time, I have to say. REM by 1994 are no longer interested in jangling. REM put out their album Monster in 94.

Their capital R, a rock album. They got that crunchy, echoey guitar pedal now that makes every song go bump, boom, boom, bump, but cracked review is like a best case scenario, sports bar REM. Shiner,

happier people. Pretty much every song is great, but only one song is the song. Tell them, Darius. When I made my stupid Sports Center Jumbotron joke earlier, I swear to you that I had not yet revisited the Only Wanna Be With You video, which as it turns out is explicitly SportsCenter themed like Dan Patrick and Keith Olderman of cameos. In addition to Dan Marino, Fred Cupples, Alonzo Morning, and other mid-90s sports luminaries,

I feel slightly less clever now. That's too bad. Was it always obvious that Only Want to Be With You was the Hootie in the Blowfish song? I guess it was. It was the third single. They were already huge by this point, but this got to number six on the Hot 100. This video is ubiquitous in its day.

And this is the song, if you're an alt-rock radio obsessive listening to all this unfold in real time, this is a song that finally makes you go, all right, these guys are legit. I think you get plenty of the song energy from the very first lines, right? You and me, we come from different worlds.

sorry, but that was always going to happen. Great karaoke song. I'm sorry. Furthermore, you always laugh at me when I look at other girls. There's a pretty succinct and vivid and amusing way to sketch out a complete, volatile and yet pretty healthy romantic relationship

in 11 words. You get a full picture of him. You get a full picture of her. Though, of course, going forward, you get a way fuller picture of him. The dolphins make me cry gets all the attention there. Justifiably so. But spare a passing thought for,

Sometimes you're crazy and you wonder why. I'm not sorry. Does she, though? To the extent that she's crazy at all, I don't think she wonders why. I think she knows why. I should mention that the 1993 Hootie and the Blowfish EP that must not be named, it includes early versions of both hold my hand and only want to be with you.

And both songs are there then. They don't have the major label, Fairy Dust, the Big Shot Studio Magic, the intangible radio-dominating hugeness. I'm a professional music writer of the cracked rearview versions. You've heard 600,000 times a piece, but the songs are already there. The structural differences are relatively minimal, though still important. Listen carefully to what's not there in the EP version of I Only Want to Be With You. nothing I can do

I've been looking for a girl like you Do you hear it? Do you hear what's not there? It's of absolutely vital importance, the thing that's not there. Here's the cracked rearview version, which includes this little guy. The song is not the song

until you get that little piano guy in there. Tiny difference. Makes the whole song. All right, Darius, time to drive your girl crazy by mansplaining Bob Dylan to her at great length. I guess she did ask.

We know that she asked because of the line, You asked me what it meant by, which is low key, a fantastic example of pop song grammar, improving upon normal conversation grammar. But in any event, here comes a whole lot of words from the 1975 Bob Dylan,

quote-unquote hit Idiot Wind, off blood on the tracks, of course. And Hooney and the Blowfish will be paying for this in the literal legal sense. soon. It's actually not at all difficult to do this, but just roll with it. It's almost impossible to imagine two songs, more tonally distant in their approach to romance than only want to be with you by Hootie and the Blowfish, An Idiot Wind by Bob Dylan.

And yet, a cosmic link is established forevermore. Tell them, Bob. shot a man named Gray and took his wife She ain't had it came to me I can't help it if I'm lucky, it's weird man, but it works

climatically I'd like you to know that the line, sometimes I wonder if we'll ever end, really appealed to me as a teenager, the note of uncertainty, of dissonance, of fatalism almost embedded in this relentlessly

upbeat endorphin rush of a jangle pop song. It's better when he sings it, I guess. Maybe. And there they are. Hootie and the Blowfish on the cover of Rolling Stone. Jim Sonafel, the drum are all giving quotes like, I guess we haven't let fame sink in. It's been this phantom thing that just caught up with us, and we're still trying to figure out what it means. More than anything, we're afraid of becoming rock stars. Mark Bryan, the guitarist all giving quotes like, The critics always like the most tragic stories.

We're breaking ground by being smart as a band. We're sincere about our music and have it together. I don't think it's a bad thing, but I do think it's why we get some bad reviews, like this guy in Pittsburgh who said we deliver grunge without the teen angst. That's because we're not a grunge band and we're not angry. Darius Rocker all giving quotes like, there are some people who wave us off and never think about us again.

Industry, media people. Doing things the right way is anti-rock and roll, and that has a lot to do with it. While a lot of people focus on the glamour of rock, on being a star, on being cool, we've focused on our careers. We're selling more records than any of those other groups,

but it would still be nice to get respect as a band. End quote. that's not going to happen. Not immediately. At least not until Hooty and the Blowfish stopped selling more records than any of those other groups. Their next album released in 1996

is called Fairweather Johnson. Holy shit. These dudes just absolutely suck at album titles. Wow. Hootie and the Blowfish are the Cleveland Browns of naming things. Just abysmal.

Fairweather Johnson will sell quite relatively poorly. Two million. copies or so, but that's quite poor relative to 20 million. And will, as usual, I suppose, be received poorly. Famously, infamously,

the great rock critic and reporter Jim Derogadis will be fired from Rolling Stone for writing a medium-grumpy, industry unfriendly review of Fairweather Johnson, a review that includes the lines, are these the sweet nothings of a bunch of regular

Joes struggling to express their romantic feelings? Or the trite cliches of hack songwriters who just want to get laid. It would be easier to believe the former if the band hadn't chosen sophomoric sex jokes worthy of Beavis and Butthead for their last three album titles. End quote. Fair enough. Jim goes on actually to lump Hootie and the Blowfish in with other baby Grateful Dead

type bands like the Spin Doctors, Dave Matthews band, and Blues Traveler. That's tough. The phrase hack songwriters is tough. Tough but fair sometimes, maybe. There's a Fair Weather Johnson song I really like called Earth Stopped Cold at Dawn, even if that's a Tom Waits' ass song title. Let me point out one final great song on Cracked Rearview, though. It is called Drowning, and Darius kicks it off like this. So we're not dealing with too busy to think about it all like, why is that rubble flag here from the statehouse war?

So we're not dealing with rage against the machine, levels of sedition or rage here, but why is there a rebel flag hanging from the statehouse walls is a hell of a second line for a bouncy, jangly pop song from a blockbuster southern sports bar band. For your reference, they finally stopped flying the Confederate flag at the South Carolina Statehouse in 2015. Shortly after nine people, all African American, were shot and killed during a Bible study at the Immanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston. Hootie and the Blowfish are rarely, if ever, confrontational in any political sense. But in the wider scope of American history, they're political and confrontational merely by

existing. You can say, and you'd probably be right in saying, that the vast majority of the time, Darius Rucker wears all of that history and ugliness and confrontation lightly, but he's never not wearing it. And every so often, you can clearly hear that now he's the one telling you things in a voice filled with pain. And then the chorus hits, and it's a huge endorphin rush, and it's great. It's not that Hootie and the Blowfish have tons more pointed songs like this, but they don't have zero. Make a note of it. All I'm trying to delineate here is the difference between primarily four.

fun music and totally disposable music. Being fun most of the time does not make you ignorant of history or disposable all of the time, most of the time, any of the time, really. There's a Ross Duthat column in the New York Times from December 2020 called Hootie and the Blowfish in the end of history. That's what got Adam Durrett's all bummed out initially about his own man's place in that history, but it turns out I don't want to talk about any of that. That happens. Hootie and the Blowfish put out three more albums after Fairweather Johnson to rather little effect. And then they announce a hiatus in 2008 so Darius can kick off a solo country music career, which he does pretty spectacularly. Today he's had nine number one songs on the Billboard Country Airplay

charts. He's also the first black solo artist to top the Hot Country Songs chart since Charlie Pride in 1983. So that's nice. Hootie and the Blowfish reads. United, of course, big tour in 2019, etc. Catch him at the fancy vacation-slash-music festival situation in Cancun in April 2023 with the likes of the gin blossoms and bare-naked ladies and the goo-goo dolls, actually. Meanwhile, notably, LeBron James returned to the Cleveland Cavs, who won the NBA title in 2016, which is to say that the Warriors blew a 3-1 lead, which is to say that Darius Rucker, playing only want to be with you in Nashville as I watched LeBron James lose, is now only my second favorite sports memory ever.

Second of the time LeBron won, but with my team this time. That game, I didn't watch on mute. And that's the story of how the calves made me cry. We are overjoyed to once again welcome Leslie Greta. Ray Streeter, columnist for the Baltimore Banner, author of the wonderful book, Black Widow, and overall, a dear friend of the show, Leslie, welcome back. Thank you. Great to be here.

It is not that long ago that you were here, and yet it has been too long. So it's good to talk to again. Absolutely. And I have to add, by the way, everyone who's like, can't you do like 120? Can't you do like 200? I mean, you could be here forever. I could be here forever. And it's a non-zero possibility.

200 is a lot of songs, actually. But I'll see what I can do. Excellent. Leslie, a few years back, I believe that you dressed up your infant son as Darius Rucker for Halloween. And it was truly amazing. And I'd please tell me everything about that.

I believe he was three or four, three or three-ish-fourish, and he'd just gotten his first guitar. because, you know, that's what you give a child. I guess. He now plays drums, too. He just, it was really cute. So I was trying to figure out something we're going to do.

And I knew that he was at an age where he was growing to soon going to grow out of the age where I could dress him up as anything I wanted. It's true. That's true. When he was two, he was Prince. I thought I sent to that photo. You did. That's right. Yeah.

It's in the book, too. Yeah, it is. We put a mustache on him with eyeliner. and we bought a used jacket that we dyed purple. We went all out and he looked really mad and embarrassed about it, but he was literally a baby. And we took him to a party in the Bronx. We're like, is that baby dressed like Prince?

We're like, yes, yes, he is. So the Darius record thing happened. And I was like, he had the guitar. So it's like, well, we should use the guitar. And so I was like, I got a great idea. So I'm from Maryland. I went to University of Maryland, not University of South Carolina. but I do have a red hat.

There we go. Put the red hat on him and put stubble once again with the eyeliner on his, on his little face. And I put a black t-shirt on him. And I played him only want to be with you. I feel I should be authentic in case anyone asked me if he had ever heard of Darius Rucker. And he was like, and he responded. He's a little black dude with a guitar. And Darius Rucker is a black dude with a guitar.

And he was like, okay. So I took pictures. And of course, I posted on Twitter because I have no shame. And Darius Rucker not only retweeted it, but then he retweeted it the next year, which was really sweet. I've never met him, but I know people who know him and he just seems like a great guy. And he thought that a child dressed as him with stubble was funny. Were you out in public? Was he recognized?

Like, did people get it? A couple people said, who are you supposed to be? And he was like a man. And I was like, Gary's backer! And so once I said it, he got it, it's the kind of thing that... Right, right. It's pretty obvious once you say, you... And like, a couple people are always like, who do you think he?

I said, they go, is he hooty? I'm like, we will accept hooty. Oh, yeah, that's problematic, but we'll accept it. Yes. It is problematic, and that's a whole other thing. I've read something on Twitter. I do deep dodge into these things that said, you know, that we know his name is scariest record, but some black people, particularly my age, he will always be Hootie. We know

he's not Hootie. We know that the band was not named after him. It's two of their friends, Hootie and the Blobfish, whatever. I guess I read one of the rejection letters from one of the many places they had tried to get a deal before they got their deal, that they mispelled it as haughty and the blowfish. Hotty and the Blowfish, that's a very different sound, I think. it's it's it makes more sense honestly it does they were hoties at that at that point I think Darius still is basically but yeah so we he just

he feels like someone you know you know the band feels like a band that you know I was 23 I guess right out of college when a crack review came out in 94 and they were such a college band they just felt like an extension of the guys at school and prep cup fret parties and that kind of thing.

You could just smell the red solo cup, you know, through the screen. Yes, yes. And it just felt very familiar to me. Hmm. You described Darius to me as a big goofball who was willing to show joy, which is, I think, a really beautiful way to put it. Like, how uncommon was goofy joy in the 90s in your memory? Like, how uncommon is it now among rock stars?

Well, it's interesting because I was thinking about all the songs that came out in the early in the mid-90s that were clearly going to be like one-hit wonders like she don't use jelly or things like that where it was a novelty song that was trying to be something but it was very clearly a novelty and because there was such a thing happening between hip-hop and grunge

and a lot of alternative and things that were happening that were very, very serious. And I think that putting in a blowfish or Dave Matthews, made room for sort of, hey, we like this. But I think that Hootina Blowfish's output was also, there's not a lot of humor in Dave Matthews songs, at least not some of the big ones, at least to me.

But I felt like they were serious about the jam, and they would be jamming for like 35 minutes. You're like, oh, stop jamming. Just get to the point, Dave. It's true. I wrote a story once about how I was stridently anti-noodle. I don't like I respect it

I like a jazz noodle And I like a noodle That's a different noodle A different noodle or a noodle Like a riff that comes back around But I want a theme Come back to just like I went to see An anchor yeah

And I know you're probably What what person's fandom Is Leslie gonna piss off this episode It's why it's red panic Okay That's good to have that established I just do it out there Not what I was expecting

But it's your it's your show now, Leslie. Widespread panic. Are they, I didn't think of them as super jammy in like a fish sense. Okay, I defer. They're so jammy. And I just, I've seen them a couple times for work where I was like, and I said nice things. Like, they play really well.

I feel like my head was exploding. But it's not my thing. But Hooty had the ability, and I've heard interviews where he talked about, yeah, they were jammy. They used to play frat parties with Dave Matthews. but there was a joy to it. There's a part in the only want to be with you video where he does the cabbage patch. That he does. That is a very goofy video overall, but that's especially goofy.

All of it is goofy. Were you right into that song, that one song where you have your ESPN thing and the dolphins. Right. Yeah, Marino. Yes. All the goopiness and the dolphins make you cry. I read something that said someone recently thought they were talking about actual dolphins. Like the environment.

Yes, thanks for making a dog noise. Just to clarify, very helpful. This is an audio medium. We appreciate that. You know, and you can't see I did that. I'll put the hands. Anyway, so I just loved that they were at this moment where they were having a good time. They had tried to get a, they'd been together for years.

They had tried to get a deal for years. I've been rejected by everybody. And they just were in this moment where they were going to enjoy it. And they weren't going to have to pretend they weren't having a good time. And I'm sure we'll talk about it later. Some of the themes of their songs, they talk about racism. They talk about like, yes, clearly dysfunctional relationships and let her cry. And they talk about a lot of things that are not crazy joyfulness, but you got the feeling that they really were having a good time.

And they didn't have to pretend they weren't having a good time so you would take them seriously. And I appreciated that at 23. I very much appreciate that at 51 because they still have that. About then, I've seen them play. I think I saw them play the reunion in 2019. I've seen them a couple times. But I just, there was something very freeing about just saying, I'm not trying to be cool.

I just want to do this, yes. I think you said to me that you like them more now than you did then. Like, how have they grown on you or grown with you, I guess? I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that when you're younger, you have this sense of knowing what's cool and what's not cool and there's a there's a level of trying to be cool even if you're not trying to be the coolest and you know that some things are some things are not critic proof and i've always been a person who wrote about music or whatever so saying i mean a person writes about music and i also like this stuff that is not critical a critical darling i mean i didn't care i literally

have a podcast. I just started with my sister called Fine Beats and Cheeses. It's about loving cheesy things about regrets. So that's always... Excellent podcast name, by the way. Yes. Thank you. And that's always been who I am, but I'm so much more that person at 51. We always ask a question at the end of the podcast, which is, is this thing ultimately cheesy and do you care? And almost always, it's, yeah, it's probably cheesy. And no, I don't. No, I don't care. I think that not only has the goofiness become, I don't care what people think about what I think about who the yellow fish, except for that I love them. But I also think that some of their music

has a deeper meaning to me. Now, like the song, I will wait, which is off the Fair Brother Johnson album, which I love. I love that song. And they didn't do it when I saw them in 2005, but they did it in 2019 at the reunion. It was just beautiful because that song is about,

the simple song about missing the person that you love and them not being around. And just he sounds beautiful on it. And there's this beautiful part in the last course where the music drops out. There's a song at one in the morning when times have changed. And it's everything about the texture of a relationship and the texture of the things that happen when you're not together, but you really want to be and how it's better when you're together. And that means a lot more to me at this age than it did in my 20s. So I think that that or like let her cry.

which when you're young is like we all have been in those terrible relationships. We're like, I know this is hard, the struggle, but I love her so much

and I love him so much and whatever. And when you're 50, when you're like, it's not supposed to be a struggle. It's not supposed to be, but you recognize that. It's not romantic.

It's not romantic. And that song is so much more complex. The writing of that song in the line about, she only lets me in when she's had too much to drink. And they've admitted they basically tried to write a riff on she talks to angels and that's what they came up with. That makes total sense.

It's sad and it's like Matchback 20s, 3 a.m. Or like any of the songs that mentioned Maria that Counting Crows did, it's like self-esteem by the offspring is the gnarlier version of that idea. Yes. That unknowable woman, she's so troubled, but I love her. I'm drawn to her. And if I'm your friend, now I'm like, dude, cut her a little. Cut her the hell loose. It's very wise.

It's not worth it. But you don't, you don't romanticize that stuff as much, but it's so much more poignant now. So yeah, I like them a lot more now. I do think people dismiss Hootie as like carefree and like not dealing with like substantive issues. Right.

And I think that extends to the mid 90s. Like there was, I sent you that New York Times opinion column about like the mid 90s. Right. About the idea that like, you know, we weren't in any major war. you know, Bill Clinton seemed chill.

The economy was good. Like relative to now, it seems like a very serene and placid time. And I think we now apply that to Hootie. Like there's no real substance, you know, or importance to Hootie's music. But as you say, like, they were talking about racism. They were talking about war. There was depth to them always. But I don't think we always appreciated that about them.

I think a lot of it depends on who we is. I will say as a black person who went to a predominantly white school, who had their blackness judged by both black people and white people and tried to figure out what to do in that. There is never a time in which a black guy playing white frat houses in South Carolina was not going to be an issue. And he's talked about that. And the band has talked about that. So I think I read that story and I was like, huh, because it's written from a perspective where you think everything was serene to you. Right.

And maybe things were not as openly, gnarly, racially than as they were now. But I hear to tell you that there's no time in which Darius Rucker is traveling frat parties in the South and having people go, and this is a quote, they'd be really great except their lead singers are blankety blank. You know, there's always that edge there. And so to write about the Confederate flag and to write about racism and to write about racism and to write about these things where to write about his dad to write about relationships that are not great. There is that there. And so if you decide that, and I say this is a journal, it's sometimes easier to have a theme and go with it if you don't examine it too much. And I enjoyed a lot of that column, but I also think that what they're missing is that there is inherent tension

just in being Darius Rucker in that band at that time, playing. those frat houses. So to just dismiss it as, well, it fits our theme that it was just a happy go lucky time without the tension or whatever negates a large part of his experience and a part of the experience of what it is to be a black person in majority white spaces or in spaces that people don't expect to see him. When I was writing rock music reviews at the Palm Beach Post 15 years ago or so I would get letters from white guys. He would go, what do you know about it when a quiz to you were asked me my credential?

Name three songs, yeah. Absolutely. Somebody wrote me and what I had made a mistake. I was vastly typing online at a Who concert. And I got a song name wrong. I got a song name wrong. I admit it. I was on deadline.

I was literally sitting at the show. It happens. You got to write on your phone. It's terrible. Yes. writing and I had this was like back when it couldn't run on my phone I was writing on a laptop on my lap you know leaned over so I who concert yes yes I booked up a song and Fort Lauderdale fucked up a song title and I got um the worst letters and I could tell that the guys who wrote

me these letters had been waiting for me to mess up so they tell me that I saw right right you know I once had a guy email me and say you know when I first saw your picture I thought well she's black and she's a woman. What can she know about rock music? But now I'm very impressed with you. It's like, thanks, Dave. That's very, thanks, Dave. Thanks, Dave.

Yes. Send, you know, because it's like, oh, now that you validated me, I feel so much better about my career. So having said that, I understand what that's like. And I'm not obviously Darius Rucker, but much less people know who I am. So many much people know who I am. But those who do know me have felt it within their purview to discuss my race and my gender and all those other things relative to what I do and who I am and my identity. And that sucks. So, I mean, you have to do it if you're going to be out there.

You do what you got to do. And as you know, I don't really give a shit at this point about what people think about me. I'm just going to do it anyway. But that takes a lot. And so to be that guy in those places. and those spaces, I can't imagine what that was like. He's a country music star now. He's in country music.

He is even more of an anomaly now, frankly, than he was as a 90s rock star. And he's cheerful about it, right? He's like, he's cheerful Darius Rucker. You don't get that tension off him, but I agree completely. Like, that tension is always there. How could it not be? How could it not be? And he talks about it because he doesn't want to be the black country singer.

But he did a really great episode in 2017 of Questlove Supreme. Did you listen to that? I didn't listen to that. I know the show, of course. But yeah, I got to get on that. It's a great episode where he talks about, you know, when he came in, they were like, we love this. I don't know if they're going to accept the black country guy. But okay.

And he would have had a lot less chance of success had he not done hooting the bullfish. Because at least people knew him there. Also, I read a really great column yesterday, and I forget the writer's name, forgive me, about as a southern person who was a white southern female writer about how that sort of regional rock was very special to her and that she felt protective of that band from people from New York and other places because there was, you know, in places where there, like Wyoming where there's like 100, literally in some of those states with like 100. black people, you know, and in a place where in South Carolina or Arkansas, wherever, where there are so many people, you have that sense of, even if you don't always get along, that person's not a mystery to you. And he talked about loving Charlie Pride. And it was sad because before Charlie Pride had died, obviously, but about how they were friends and he'd gotten together. And Charlie told him some stories about things. And he, it's such a,

tight walk, I think he has to, he's been treading for 30 years now about being this guy who's black. And although black people have as much claim to bluegrass and the country and the southern law, of all of those things anyone else does. It's just not marketed that way. So there has been this big push since 2020

to have many more black people, you know, in those spaces. But he's still like the ghost. to him and came brown you know we're still like the people and mickey um yeah so there's a lot of there's people um the um the war and treaty who are amazing they're more i don't consider them they play a lot of country things because now i think see uh country mt and other places go you can't just have an all white um award show anymore right right right they have to at least invite one of these people to be on there and that's very cynical but

for years there were none. If Darius was busy that day, there just weren't any. If you had a dentist appointment, you just can't have an award show that day, I guess. Darius, Darius. Can you reschedule your dentist? How bad is it? Can you come? Come on.

I think that part of the reason Hootie and the Blowfish have been a punchline for some people is just how huge they were, right? Like Cracker Review sold 20 million copies, which is unfathomable to me. It's one of the biggest selling album. of all time. Number 10, I think. Number 10, like, why is that? Like, I understand why they were huge, but why were they, like, historically top 10 of all time huge? What is it about this record in 1994 that everyone needs to own it? I think that there was, and I've read interviews with the band about this, I think there was a sense of so much of the music at the beginning of that decade had been heavy. Grunge.

Yeah. Yes. Right. And hip hop and so many things that were happening that it's like this was something different. And once again, it was tried and true because they've been around for so long. It wasn't just like a fad. And they came back. And because I think that some people like me, I like that critics didn't like them because it was okay to just like a thing.

I think there was because even if you're looking over your shoulder going, is this cool or not? There's still like safety on numbers. Mm-hmm. You know, which of course, some people. hate even more because they go, well, everybody likes it. It must be garbage because no, it's, you know, hewing to the masses and whatever. But I liked it because it was easy to sing to. Easy to along too. It was, first of all, his voice is just chef's kiss. I mean, just an amazing voice. Well said. Yes. You know, and Daniel Smith, who I've mentioned before on the show is just being a huge

giant fan girl of writes about, she said that when she was, reviewing music, she would say, in the beginning, she would say, at the end of the day, is there inherent artistic worth and merit to this music? And his voice to her made that an automatic, no matter what he was singing. And I believe that. I listened to on, she was on the, in 2019, when they were doing their reunion to her, she was on the pop cast on, for the New York Times. New York Times. And there was, they played a bit of a live version. of let her cry. And his voice on that was just so crystal beautiful, clear.

You just like want to go, what? And there's that beautiful blues to his voice. And there's beautiful. I mean, and they have said that if Cracker Review was released today, it would be a country record. I mean, it just had to be. Of course it would. Right.

Because and also, so they owe him a check. So many of those younger country guys sound just like Hootie and the Bulletfish. They've got that. And there they are with their hat and whatever. Not that he created that, but so much of it. I listened to Crack Review again in the last couple days to prepare for this podcast. And there was so much of it that I was like, I could hear this today if I was driving to North Carolina.

It's a country record. It's a country record. And I think that because of that people, it was either people to say, well, this is corny or this is not. it not there's no there's no depth to it there's no you know it doesn't make you sad i mean there was you i listened to the episode that you did about stay i missed you and that hilarious conversation you have with writer strong about basically in the 90s we decided that if it was all positive or about people liking you that it was terrible and that that meant you would reality by reality it's right you had sold out somehow and that you sold out because

you gave people joy and you didn't make people mad and that like the whole thing in the movie with Ben Stiller's character having a job. So clearly he was suspicious. That's very suspicious in the 90s. And that Ethan Hawke who snuck his laundry and with her

and Janine Garofalo's, because he didn't want to pay for it. It was a terrible human being. No job. Terrible human being sang a song or better being being or better be in a whore. That's very not very nice. No, not very. After he had left her in the morning after all this stuff. entirely his fault entirely his fault all of this to stay that's where we were in 1994 that's that

was yeah same year as cracker review so we were still living in this thing that people liking you was bad it's bad and then including the blowfish comes out and everybody liked them we go like them yeah isn't it bad it's because how can there be if that's not if they're making feel bad about your an existence, then it must not be any worth to them. So I think people were built against it. When you describe it that way. It was a very weird time. It explained so many of my romantic choices.

Likewise. Leslie, we better wrap up with the guitar pick fight story. I think that's how this needs to end. So my understanding is you're upset that there wasn't a fight. Do I have this right? It would have been more fun if there was a fight, but I understand how there could not be. So, 2005, picture it, Sicily. No, picture it.

Book of Rattan. 2005. Close enough. Yes. My sister and I, and actually, it was in a place that was made to look like it was vaguely Italian-ins. Totally, yeah. My sister and I, right, who didn't even a blowfish show, I was reviewing for the Palm Beach Post. Once again, with my laptop on my lap, we're sitting there.

Wow. Yeah, you know, and we're sitting there. And probably in a third row, fourth where we're right central because usually the review tickets are like pretty close. Pretty central so you can see the whole band. So they were playing something. I don't know. And one of the,

I can't remember who. One of the band members caught my sister's smile. And we were the only two black people in the audience that I could see. So they're all cute little black girls, whatever. I mean, no one was flirting. Everyone was married at that point or whatever.

They're just like, oh, it's cute little black girls. So, and we were. I mean, we were 34, but you can't. tell. So we're, no, it's the whole thing. So we're sitting in the audience. And so one of the band members smiles at my sister and he goes, like, heads up. And he tosses the pick at her. And the pick lands

behind us. It's an outdoor amphitheater. So it's like, you know, the tickets, the seats are tiered. Right, right. They're rising. Yeah, are a little higher up. And it lands in front of the feet of a woman behind us. Okay. And she looks at my sister. And she looks back in. at me and she looks at the band and she looks at my sister and she and she looks at the pick and there's this existential crisis because she wants to grab it but she knows it wasn't meant for her and I definitely think she's gauging is this black girl going to beat me at the community in the blue's boatfish show over this pick and she goes oh my god I know it's I know it's I know it's for you but I want it it's right here I really want it can I have it it's right here

can I have it and so we're like 34 I'm a homeowner you know I I'm literally there working. Yes, you have a laptop in your lap. That's my laptop. We're clearly not going to start a fight at a hoody and a Bluffet show about a pick. But it was so funny watching this girl who knew she was wrong. I knew she was wrong. And was wangely like, is this going to happen?

We go throw down. I mean, we could have, not that we would beat people up. I'm pretty sure it had gone to fist the cuffs. We would have been victorious. But then you get. I agree. Yeah. There's no question of that, honestly.

You know, I get. fired and overrun, you know. You would be a legend, though. You would be the reviewer who beat a lady up at a hooty in the blowfish concert. You would have your own empire by now, Leslie. I'm sorry to inform you. That's the sliding doors moment. You would have a podcast.

You already have a podcast. You got everything you would have gotten anyway, I guess. It's true. And without getting fired. But anyway, I just, I love that moment, too, because it was this moment where all these people who were different, they wanted the same thing. They wanted to be at a hoody in the Blufers show. They wanted to have fun. They wanted to sing along. They wanted to be a part of the moment and the experience. And we didn't have to get arrested. So,

that's, see, that was the perfect way to wrap this up. Leslie, it is always wonderful talking to you. Thank you so much for being here. Thank you, man. This is always fun for me. We'll talk to you again soon. Thanks very much to our guest this week, Leslie Grace, reader. Thanks as always to our producers, Jonathan Kerma and Justin Sales. Thanks to Abu Kamara for additional production support. And thanks very much to you, as always, for listening. And now, without further ado, I really must insist that you go listen to Only Want to Be With You by Hootie in the Bluefish. See you next week.