60 Songs That Explain the '90s - “What’s Up”—4 Non Blondes

Episode Date: December 14, 2023

Rob indulges in outright negativity when focusing on some of the worst songs of the '90s before turning his attention 4 Non Blondes’ “What’s Up,” voted one of the worst songs of the '90s by Rolling Stone. Later, Rob is joined by journalist and host of ‘Fine Beats and Cheeses’ Leslie Gray Streeter to discuss how '90s music criticism discredited the music of 4 Non Blondes. Host: Rob Harvilla Guest: Leslie Gray Streeter Producers: Jonathan Kermah and Justin Sayles Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hey guys, it's Dave Chang here, host of the Dave Chang Show. You might hear me on with Chris Yang, Noel Cornelio, and a host of other guests. We've been on air for quite some time now, and it's changed over the years. But one of the things we always try to talk about is what's delicious, how to be a better eater. And you might hear me rambling incoherently, contradicting myself every five minutes. We talk about some sports and culture and all kinds of other things too. I think we're the most expert opinions you'll ever hear about anything. Check us out if you haven't before on the Ringer podcast network.

Hello, my friends. A few quick announcements. First of all, this will be the last episode of 2023. We're going to take the next few weeks off just for the holidays. I've been terrorizing Kerm, our producer, in various ways, and I need to stop. We will return on Wednesday, January 10th, and there will be no further delays from there. Also, here's a cool random thing. You ever hear of quiz?

Bowl, the NAQT, which stands for national academic quiz tournaments. People way smarter than me winning national prizes for super intense trivia contests. This rad guy I know, Andrew Hard, who does this stuff. He asked me if I wanted to do a 60 songs themed sort of trivia contest, an individual thing. So this is an audio quiz about 90 songs, 60 questions. I read the clues. You buzz in when you've got the song title. You get more points the earlier. You buzz. It's. It's a little. It's. It's. It. etc. That's going to start on Thursday, December 14th, and run through Tuesday the 19th. You do it alone online and you can take it whenever you want. I'll put the link in the show notes, but the URL will be naqt.com slash go slash 90s. That's 90s. It doesn't cost anything just

for fun, but the winners, the top five scores, we will send you a free signed bookplate copy of the 60 songs that explain the 90s book. And finally, yes, as you may, be aware, 60 songs that explain the 90s is available in book form. It's available everywhere. I'm pretty biased, but it makes an excellent Christmas gift, holiday gift, birthday gift, etc. Signed bookplay copies are still available as well. That link will be in the show notes as well. Eternal thanks to anyone who's checked the book out or has even considered checking the book out. I am sincerely grateful to everyone that I got to spend this year doing weird shit like this for a living. Thank you.

Okay, thank you. Talk soon. We strive here at 60 songs that explain the 90s to maintain a positive, cheerful, encouraging, celebratory environment. Free of the pendantic bitchiness and ill will that defined so much of rock criticism and modern discourse as a whole. That guy from the REM episode doesn't count. It was two and a half years ago. you gotta get over it i ain't talking about that no more we strive to avoid snark and sass and elitism we ain't about to yuck anybody's yum but today just today just once just twice i guess counting the guy from the r em episode and also i guess that other time i talked about how my buddy nate once

referred to the Black Keys as bootless Ohio and fuck jobs. So, okay, just thrice, including right now, we will make an exception and indulge in outright negativity. This is the purge, except for talking shit. Now is the time for some discouraging words. Quote, I hate that band, man. I would rather listen to and watch a naked. old man paint his entire body blue and whack bird testicles with a mallet end quote guess the band

not me not me i didn't say it no birds were harmed in the making of this program and i didn't say it that's my buddy mike back in high school expressing his personal opinion holding forth as to the merits of the dave matthews band i didn't say it retweets or not endorsements. I'm paraphrasing Mike slightly. We can't remember his exact words in high school, but I'm fairly certain the hypothetical old man was both naked and painted

blue, and I'm positive about the bird testicles. I wouldn't make that up. I'm not some weirdo. Furthermore, as part of another heated, longstanding argument we're having, Mike would like to clarify now that he'd rather listen to the Dave Matthews band

all day than hear two seconds of Paul McCartney's Wonderful Christmas Time. Rude. The mood is right. The spirit's up. We're here tonight. That's enough.

That was nine seconds of wonderful Christmas time, FYI. Merry Christmas. Hey, settle a third longstanding argument for me. William, Mike and I and my brother and a bunch of other dudes. We get a cabin for a long weekend every year in mid-November. We sit around campfires. throw hatchets, play poker, watch football, drink like $12 a can craft brews with like toffee and shinn in them. We generally consume 8,000 calories a day apiece because Mike also

cooks everything. It's all substantially less macho than it sounds. And historically, my only function was to be the DJ, the guy with the ox cord. And historically, I'd play the 90s alt-rock jams of our youth, right? Radiohead, Alice and Chains, God lives underwater, cake. But like two years ago, there was a huge mutiny, and now everyone insists on only listening to Christmas music. In mid-November, this is blasphemy to me. This is unnatural. You start listening to Christmas music the day after Thanksgiving.

That's when Christmas season starts, canonically. You don't play Christmas music in mid-November. What are you as CVS? But the dudes are all whining about it, so I'm like, fine. And I put on wonderful Christmas time, and everyone yells at me again. not that Christmas music. That song sucks. Blah, blah, blah, blah. Oh, shut up. If I have to listen to Felice Navidad in the hot tub on Veterans Day, then you can deal. Look, I get that Dave Matthews band are polarizing. Dave Matthews genially talks shit about himself in interviews all the time, but I will not countenance wonderful Christmas time slander. Wonderful Christmas time reminds me of being 10 years old and my grandma's wood paneled bass.

with boards over the pool table so the whole family could eat pork chops there. And the whole basement is festooned with those giant fat Super 80s multi-colored Christmas lights. And wonderful Christmas time is playing on the radio. And then I'd wake up Christmas morning and I'd get, you remember mask the Super 80s Transformers-ish cartoon with the toys? You had the Camero that turned into a plane and the semi-truck that turned into a command center or whatever. I woke up Christmas morning at grandmas and got the mask volcano the giant blue motorized

monster truck that shot like a lava. That's my favorite childhood Christmas present ever. I still think about that shit. And when I think about that shit, wonderful Christmas time is playing. I will not countenance. Wonderful Christmas time slander. I do not care to picture

a naked old man painted blue with an entire like multi-active keyboard of birds. He can whack in the testicles with a mallet to recreate the iconic dulcet melody of wonderful Christmas time. You keep Sir Paul out of this. Rude. That was nine more seconds. And happy New Year. This is a pro- Wonderful Christmas time environment. No birds were harmed in the making of this program. Birds do have testicles. By the way, we googled it. It'd be funnier if birds.

didn't have testicles, but nobody gets everything they want for Christmas. Quote, oh, this song is so stupid. These are the stupidest lyrics he's ever written, end quote, pretty rude. Not me. Not me. I didn't say it, staring at the sun off U2's polarizing 1997 album, pop. No Bonos were harmed in the making of this program. My buddy Jeff hated this song. loved U-2 and he saw U-2's Pop Mart tour supporting the pop album with a giant lemon and whatever, but he hated this song.

Jeff and I, we had a college radio morning show called the creeping edge of condescension. Nobody listened to it and I still don't feel like explaining that name. And we'd play Staring at the Sun by U-2 and Jeff would be like, oh, it's in your ear and it won't disappear. What a

genius rye. Oh, that darn insect. I wonder what the scratching will bring. And then we'd get back on the air we'd play songs by Live, the band, the Lightning Crashes guys, who all hate each other now, and we'd make fun of the Live Guys lyrics on pretty much every song. We'll buy a drink, a pink drink, a pink drink, I think. That song is called Rattlesnake from Live's 1997 album, Secret Samadhi. And I don't know what that album title means, but it sounds pretentious.

No lightning crashes on Secret Samadhi. alas. No placenta's fall to the floor on this record. Put it that way. Something else falls to the floor, perhaps. Dig the way the live guy sings the line, will take my car. Like he's trying to seduce Marvin K. Mooney's mom or something. Ridiculous. I texted Jeff to ask if he still hated, staring at the sun. If that's the 90 song, he hated the most. And Jeff says, yeah, that's a good one. But the real answer is anything by the offspring. hate that band end quote rude some things I'd feel like I'm guy you stupid dumb shit goddamn discouraging words snark sass elitism pedantic bitchiness

yes embrace your inner sicko revel in the negativity give yourself to the dark side my first job my first paper I worked with this rad dude named Aaron. Aaron drove a gold 1977, two-door Cadillac, El Dorado Coop with a bumper sticker that said,

back up off me or you're going to get played. The word played was either underlined or in italics. I see that car in the parking lot on my first day of work. I'm like, this guy kicks ass. Aaron once asked me, Rob, who are your arch enemies? And I was like, what? Nobody. I'm nice. And Aaron's like, nah, man, you need arch enemies.

I need my arch enemies. They're the reason I get up in the morning. And I'm like, damn, this guy kicks even more ass than I thought. Then one day the whole staff went out to lunch at BD's Mongolian grill. And Aaron ate too many bowls and almost puked in my car on the ride back to the office. Everyone needs an arch enemy song, too, perhaps. I texted Aaron just now as like, what's your least favorite song of the night? And he described this song to me as, quote, very shitty, end quote, rude.

Not me. Not me. I didn't say it. A pocketful of kryptonite by the spin doctors was the first CD I ever owned. And I bought it because I loved Little Miss can't be wrong so much. But I forgive Aaron. And presumably Aaron forgives me. Quote, you don't like this shit, do you?

End quote. Super rude. Good Stuff by the B-52s. From their 1992 album, Good Stuff, the album after Cosmic Thing, after the Love Shack album. I do like this shit, FYI. I'm in high school.

I'm in the backseat of the car. Two of my cooler, older adult cousins are up front. 20-something dudes with Frank Zappa type affiliations. Good stuff comes on the radio. It plays for like 20 seconds. And my one cool cousin turns to my other cool cousin and goes, you don't like this shit, do you? And my other cool cousin goes, no.

Meanwhile, I'm in the back seat, all sheepish, going, I don't know, maybe. It's like I woke up one day in high school, and everyone started harshing my vibe. One day I get in my good buddy Todd's car, a bunch of my friends crammed into Todd's Saturn. Generally, we drive around town, driving from one Denny's to the other Denny's,

listening to the 90s alt rock jams of our then occurring youth. Nine inch nails, tool, candlebox. But one day I'm like, hey guys, I got this new tape.

Check this shit out. This is awesome. I've read a ton about these guys. And another iconic dulcite melody fills the Saturn. And all the other dudes in the car are like, oh no, boo. Boo, this sucks.

Boo! And I'm like, dude, this is pavement. This is cut your hair. This is, slacker brilliance and everyone's like, boo, boo, boo, fuck you, boo, and then they kick me out of the car on the freeway. My buddy Dan,

the drummer in my college pseudo-intellectual space rock trio. Our band was called AI. That's funny. My buddy Dan plays drums now in a 90s cover band. They're called cassette mindset. They're awesome.

I texted Dan just now. I'm like, Dan, what's your least favorite 90s song? And Dan says, there are a couple of songs. I've told the guys, under any circumstances, I will not cover this. End quote. He says he keeps thinking of one song in particular. I smell sex and candy here.

Who's that lounging in my chair? Rude. Courtney Love still tossed to me occasionally. Courtney Love told me that Sex and Candy by Marcy Playground is one of the best one-hit wonders ever, and she's jealous. She didn't write it. She especially likes the phrase disco lemonade. I asked Courtney what her least favorite 90s song was. Any guesses? Anyone? You ready? All right, here you go. Starfuckers Incorporated by Nine Inch Nails. Courtney describes that song as, quote,

bad and personally rude end quote oh man she also says it was a demo like a joke almost but jimmy iavine loved it and made trent resner use the joke take and put it out as a single that's important context that's wild man later we'll be talking with the rad writer and author and podcaster leslie grace streeter so i asked her what's your least favorite song in the 90s and leslie's explanation here was, quote, it's just dumb and something a 10-year-old boy would write, end quote, rude but fair. Yeah, I've got a lot of recent experience dealing with actual 10-year-old boys, and I've stumbled across the phrase, balls in your jaws in their YouTube search history a time or two, so that checks out. New Age Girl by Dead Eye Dick.

monument to subtlety and sophistication. Do you find this all to be a little too anecdotal? Me just polling people at random. This not doing it for you? That's fair. Fair but rude. Fine. You want something more official and rigorously organized? You got it. Look out. Top 10 worst songs of the 90s. According to the Readers of Rolling Stone, this was a Rolling Stone readers poll from 2011. 2011. Rolling Stone gave their readers more than a decade to think this over. Top 10 worst songs of the 90s. Here we go. Number one. That's right. We're going in descending order from number one to number 10 because that is

narratively convenient for me. Yes, it's Aqua's Barbie Girl. The strategically vapid 1997 Europop Sensation. To which I was indifferent and until very recently, when my three-year-old daughter stumbled across a YouTube video of a bunch of little blank-faced girls in pink tutus with giant pink bows in their hair dancing to this song on Moldovan State Television. Yes, Moldova, the country in Eastern Europe. What the hell is going on in Moldova? So now my daughter dances along with the blank-faced presumably Moldovan toddlers.

It's disconcerting. It's a terrible state of affairs. My daughter's made us watch this video like 20,000 times, and I've winced at the line undress me everywhere each and every time. You want to know what I hate YouTube. That's what. I hate this video so much that I can no longer even enjoy this song's excellent gruff male counterpoint. Dude, that is phenomenal gruff male counterpoint.

As we discussed in the Cardigans episode, I prefer my gruff male counterpoint to be Swedish, but I will make an exception here and allow for the ultra-rare Danish gruff-male counterpoint. When this song gets stuck in my head periodically, this is the part of the song. Come on, Barbie, let's go party. Ah, ah, ah, ah.

It's a good time. Too bad, though. This song sucks now. I agree with the readers of Rolling Stone on that one. Discouraging words. What else we got? What sucks almost as bad as Barbie girl? Number two, Los Del Rios Macarena.

Ah, leave those guys alone. Number three, Billy Ray Cyrus, achy-breaky heart. Oh, leave that guy alone. Number four, vanilla ice, ice-baby. Go ahead and fuck with him. He can handle it. Number five, Chumba Wamba. thumping. You want to know a secret? There are way worse chumba-wamba songs than tub-thumping.

Hear me now and believe me later. The Chumbawamba song that sounds like the Pink Panther theme, but it's about Zora Neil Hurston. Yes, the Harlem Renaissance author of their eyes were watching God. The Chumbabwamba song about Zora Neil Hurston driving in the deep south, that song is worse than tub thumping, even if you hate tub thumping. Don't get involved. I don't mean that ugly. Okay, I mean that a little ugly. Discouraging words. All right, now this list starts getting salty. Number six, hit the deck. My theory has always been that it's the turntable scratches. The wiki, wicket scratches. Mm-bba, da-ba do ba, wiki-wai, right there. Those turntable scratches drive people nuts. That's valid.

Those turntable scratches are gratuitous. Mbop by Hanson from 1997. I do distinctly remember hearing Mbop for the first time when I played it myself on college radio. And I just went, what the fuck? In that context, college radio in post-grunge 1997, when so much of quote-unquote alternative in college rock was still quite dower and grumpy. In that context, the relentless sunniness of Mbop felt like an affront to me personally.

Quit smiling. Get a hold of yourselves, Hansen. Quit trying to yassify the Jackson Five, or what are you nuts? The Jackson Five already pretty much yassified America. Mbop was the number one song in America for three weeks. And this, of course, is the key to understanding any worst song of the 90s list, or any list of the worst songs of any era. Your beef most often is not with the song itself,

but with the song's outsized popularity, the song's ubiquity. You resent the song because the man foisted the song upon you and forced you to hear it like 300,000 times. If you were a sentient human being in 1992, you most likely harbor a legitimate and probably lifelong grudge against achy-brakey heart, right? Akey-Brake-Hart was so in in 1992

that even the Weird Al-Yankovic parody of Akey-Brakey-Hart is about how much he hates Akey-Brakey heart. Weird Al-Yankovic, one of the sweetest dudes, sweetest in any sense dudes in pop music history. Even he's like, yo, fuck this. Your beef is not with Billy Ray.

My dear friend, your beef is with society. And if you play that song, that nauseating song, it might just make me lose my lunch. Weird Al's falsetto, though, you know? All right,

let's wrap this up. Mbop is the sixth worst song of the 90s according to the readers of Rolling Stone. Number seven, Celine Dion, my heart will go on no leave her alone number eight who let the dogs out by the bahama men that song's not even technically from the 90s and my kids like it and there's no corresponding disquieting video of moldovan toddlers dancing to it so no leave them alone too number nine

well hello there fellas it hurts remember that weird moment quite recently when every major pop star started interpolating I'm too sexy by Wright said Fred Taylor Swift did it then Drake then Beyonce remember when Wright said Fred

called Beyonce an arrogant person for not asking permission first don't do that right said Fred do not antagonize the beehive you want to talk about discouraging words

you will be discouraged into an early grave right said Fred I don't get hating I'm too sexy, which was also the number one song in America for three weeks, but there's no corresponding, maddening, turntable scratch element to I'm Too sexy. You know the best part of this song? You know the part of this song that gets stuck in my head when this gets stuck in my head?

Leave Wright, said Fred alone. Let them enjoy their copious royalties. Wright said Fred recently bought Moldova, the country in Eastern Europe. Just with the songwriting royalties they've collected in the past like five years, respect is due. And finally, according to the discerning readers of Rolling Stone, we arrive at the 10th worst song of the 1990s. Well, hello there, ladies. My name is Rob Harvilla.

This is the 111th episode of 60 songs that explain the 90s in this week. We are discussing what's up. by four non-blones. What's up question mark, numeral four non-blonds. From their 1992 debut album, bigger, faster, better, more. That's bigger, comma, faster, comma, better, comma, more, exclamation point. I like this song. Let me make that clear up front. The discouraging words portion of our program is just about over with. I like this song and I bought this album in 1992 because I like this song. so much. Well, technically, the For Nond Blonde's record was a Columbia House

acquisition, a 12 albums for a penny situation, but nonetheless, what I like the most about what's up is how crazy it drives people. I dig this song's willful, gleeful, strategic antagonism. As Machiavelli once wrote,

it is better to be feared than to be loved if one cannot be both. End quote. Machiavelli would have loved, I'm too sexy. by the way. All right. So I want you to picture two people, a guy and a lady, and they're, what? What's that? Oh, oh, you want to know my least favorite song of the 90s.

Shit. I don't have one. I'm too nice. It goes against my principles to have the least favorite 90s song. Okay, okay, fine, fine. Cotton Eye Joe by Rednecks with an X from 1994. Yo, did you know that rednecks were Swedish? Did you know this is just Swedish cosplay of the American South?

Yeah, no, fuck this. Cotton Eye Joe is like if a square dance collar got an invincibility star from Super Mario Brothers and the hell with it. I stand by that. Machiavelli also wrote, the wise man does at once what the fool does finally and i'm finally telling you that cotton eye joe blows all right i want you to picture two people a guy and a lady in san francisco early 90s or maybe late 80s they're both young they're both hungry for fame and fortune she's a waitress and he's i don't know what he's doing at this point he's tooting around in his motorcycle and antagonizing people they meet

they form a connection. This is not a romantic connection. This is a songwriter's connection. The guy and the lady are both aspiring songwriters. And one time they sit in his bedroom, on his bed, and they got a guitar, and they play their songs for each other. Here's one of the songs he plays.

Well, look who it is. If it isn't Stephen Jenkins from Third Eye Blind, Mr. Semi-Charmed Life, Mr. Walking, Breathing, Living Cheese himself. Somebody asked me to sign my book, Walking, Breathing, Living Cheese was a huge honor. Let's not get into it again, but ain't nobody inspiring or delivering more discouraging words than this guy. He tells this story, Stephen does, about trading songs with a waitress who worked down the street from his apartment in San Francisco. He says to Billboard, quote, I realized years later that the songs we played each other

had sold 17 million records, end quote. The lady was Linda Perry. She played him, What's Up? Linda Perry, born in Springfield, Massachusetts in 1965, her mother's Brazilian, her father's Portuguese American. As a toddler, she spends a lot of time in the hospital with major kidney problems. Her teenage years in San Diego are rough for other reasons.

In a 2012 episode of the TV biography series, Women on Top, great name for that series, no notes. She says, quote, I was depressed, I was suicidal, I was sick, I was never good enough, I was invisible. All these feelings come up, and it's not pity me because all of it, I wouldn't change for one second. end quote in her behind the music episode linda talks about being molested by an older half-brother she's talked about her family struggling with poverty she's talked about abusing drugs she's talked about a suicide attempt about near-death experiences she pushes through all that in her teenage years she also realizes that she's gay that she wants to make out with girls as she puts it so she starts doing that she moves to San Francisco.

She finds her voice. I don't mean finds her voice in the cliched self-help type way. One day Linda is singing in her apartment and this voice comes out of her. Huge, loud, brassy, unapologetic, rude even. A voice to strike fear in the hearts of men. A voice to antagonize. It makes her cry, her own voice, and her roommate rushes in to see why Linda's crying, but Linda knows what she is now. She's a rock star. She starts writing songs.

She's doing solo acoustic performances. She's waiting tables. She's working checking coats at coat checks, etc. She meets Stephen Jenkins and doesn't immediately try to throw him out a window. That's a promising sign for a young aspiring rock star. Game recognized game, as it were. Let's get Linda banned, shall we? Hey, remember when this happened. At second base, so the Oakland A's take Remember when game three of the 1989 World Series in which the Oakland A's

swept the San Francisco Giants? Remember when game three was delayed by literally an earthquake? The 6.9 Lomo Prieta earthquake? I tried to find a 6.9 pitchfork review of a 90s record, but you can't search pitchfork that way. It was taking too long. I'm sorry. That earthquake also delayed the first four non-blon's rehearsal, according to four non-blons. That's a super encouraging sign. It's a super encouraging sign if a famous earthquake delayed their first rehearsal, and an even more encouraging sign if that's bullshit, and they just told interviewers that,

because if they're lying about the earthquake, that means this is a band that understands the power of rock mythology. Never attempt to win by force what can be won by deception. That's also Machiavelli. Machiavelli knows what's up. Machiavelli totally would have been an A's fan. Let's do this.

Four non-blondes have quite a bit of internal turmoil for a band that puts out one album. They form in San Francisco in 1989. Early lineup, we got Linda Perry on guitar and vocals, Shauna Hall on guitar, Krista Hillhouse on bass and Wanda Day on drums. They tell the great earthquake rehearsal story in 1991

in an interview with the great punk zine flipside. An interview with a great critic and writer Gary Indiana. That's cool. All of that is cool. Gary asks Linda what it's like to be in a band now. And Linda says, quote, it's completely different. It's so much more because when you're solo,

you just have yourself. you have no one to fall on no one to turn around and see any kind of support everybody's watching you mind you i love that the attention but with the band i don't feel threatened i love their support knowing that i could just fall down and someone would be there to catch me so it's very different and it's more fun because i love to rock out i'm not a hoagie end quote hoagy apparently being linda's slang for a lame folk singer type. Linda also talks a little trash. Of course she does.

She says, quote, people aren't that stupid to not know what is phony to what is real. And I don't think some musicians give those people out there credit. But there are those dumb dipshits out there, end quote. And then she mentions one dumb dipshit song

in particular. Poison. From 1990s, flesh and blood, That is the poison power ballad. Life goes on. And Linda ain't having it. Quote, I mean, if you watch them and listen to the words, it's just completely stupid. It's totally not them. It's totally completely phony. Whoever wrote the words was trying to write those words. They didn't just come to them. And that's what I can't stand is that type of writing that, you know, where does that come from? There's nothing in that person that I can feel by watching them perform this, that they have experienced this. And by all of us, Linda's referring now to her own band, you can honestly feel that you're not being cheated.

End quote. Rude. Linda Perry, dissing poison while being interviewed by Gary, Indiana for Flipside Magazine. I'm into it. Poison fans appear to really dig the guitar. solo. C.C. Deville's guitar solo on life goes on. But of course, we don't have time to, oh, I'm just kidding. Rock me, C.C. I personally don't feel cheated by that guitar solo, but I take

Linda's point. And this is an important thing to know about Linda Perry right off the rip. She aims to write songs that you can feel. You can tell she's truly experienced. And the words, she doesn't want to write them. She wants them to just come to her. she's got principles four non-blondes make a name for themselves playing around san francisco a and r starts sniffing around they signed interscope records in nineteen ninety one before nirvana's never mind triggers the major label alt rock gold rush mind you christa hillhouse the bassist she tells songfax dot com quote we had a shot with a couple of other labels but we kind of freak them out because we were kind of weird at the time we were all all women. We were all gay. That was the time before it was the cool thing to do. I don't even think Katie Lang was out of the closet yet. She wasn't. Krista goes on. She says, I think the marketing thing threw a lot of labels off because they're always looking at marketing. Even by the end of the 80s, the record companies had really switched to where they were looking for that band that had that one

hit. They wanted one hit. And then who knows after that. They didn't really develop acts anymore. When we got signed, they knew What's Up sounded like a hit. End quote. The first and only four non-blond's album, bigger, comma, faster, comma, better, comma, more, exclamation point comes out in October 1992. And the first single, Ain't What's Up. No, the first single is called Dear Mr. President, and Linda wrote it. And these words presumably just came to her.

And this is a song of social consciousness, social indignation. I don't mind telling you that this was my favorite song on this record when I first snagged it from Columbia House. When I was, what, 15? I found this song to be profound and sobering. Crooked evangelists, greedy politicians, rampant drug abuse, etc. Let me skip right to my favorite part. Rock me, Linda. And this delivery is corny, right?

maybe arguably unapologetically so the screaming what a the righteous pompousness of it all but what you learn quickly about linda perry is that the theater the bombast the absurdity the willingness and really the insistence on sounding a little silly and overblown this is by design the linda perry experience how else is she supposed to convey to you how not phony she is is. It takes some getting used to her voice. It's hugeness. It's loudness.

It's brashness. The notes don't matter as much as the non-phoniness matters. If you never get used to her voice, fine. You will not mistake Linda Perry for another singer. You will not mistake another singer for her. I will not look you in the eye and say this is a great record. Bigger, faster, better, more. I listen to this now and I can remember being 15 or whatever sitting in my bedroom with this

CD playing and I'm doing the 90s teenager thing where you got this CD because you like one song and now you're desperately willing the rest of the CD to be good to justify your purchase or Columbia House acquisition and it's an agonizing feeling the realization that maybe this record ain't so hot and maybe there won't be another song you like 10% as much as the song that made you get the CD in the first place. And this whole process is like yelling at a plant to get it to grow, right? I listen to this record now. I stream this record now, and I still hear it as a CD.

I am frantically trying to extract value from. It's totally my fault, but it is nonetheless a suboptimal listening experience. Linda excels at pre-choruses. That song is called Superfly. sure it is dig the slap bass we got christa hillhouse on bass still but drummer wise wand is out of here and dawn richardson's on drums now she'll stick and lead guitar wise shana got bounced halfway through recording and now louis m'toyer is on lead guitar he will not stick soon he is replaced on lead guitar by roger roca a lot of turnover for a one album band meanwhile mother love bone

I'm hearing an awful lot of Mother Love Bone on this record. Now, the Seattle band, fronted by Andrew Wood, who died of a heroin overdose in 1990, right before his own band's debut album came out. He inspires the Temple of the Dog record, then his grieving bandmates run off and do Pearl Jam. Mother Love Bone, who are poised at the precise midpoint between poison and pearl jam,

hair metal strut and grunge slouch, bluesy rock and alternative rock. This ain't the coolest place to be musically, necessarily, but I'm going to let you try to tell Linda that. Pretty objectively, the second best song in this album is called Space Man, and Linda will indeed find a brand new place,

but none of her bandmates are coming with her. So let's not drag out another list, but here are the first five 90s music videos to get a billion views apiece on YouTube. Right? First, guns and roses, November rain. Second, Nirvana smells like teen spirit.

Axel Rose beating Kirk Cobain to a billion YouTube views is good shit. That's funny to me. Third, the cranberries, zombie. Fourth, Whitney Houston. I will always love you. In the fifth 90s video to hit a billion for non-blins.

What's up? What do you remember about this video? can I predict that you remember exactly one thing about this video? Can I predict that the one thing you remember is the hat? 25 years how my life is still trying to get up that great big heel of hope. You remember Linda Perry's hat. Linda Perry's hat over her dreadlocks. Linda's giant slash-ass top hat with a goggles on it,

with a ski goggle-sized goggles on it, like she's going snorkeling right after she finishes shooting this video. Linda Perry looks ridiculous, which is another way of saying, which is a ruder way of saying, she looks like a rock star. Rock stars look ridiculous. Rock stars are supposed to look ridiculous.

That's the job. Rock stars ideally look as ridiculous as they sound, which brings us to the way Linda rushes the first line of this song. I've had this tab open for like a week, this 4,000 word blog post from some dude about how much this dude hates What's Up, Worst song in the 90s, etc. And this dude's beef with What's Up starts with Linda rushing the first line. It should be 25 years and my life is still, but it ain't. Now is it.

But that's not some screw-up Linda kept in for some reason. That seemingly fumbled line delivery is essential. The lateness and the necessary rushing of 25 years conveys how quickly those 25 years went by and how out of sorts Linda feels, how chaotic her life is, despite her life also being still, and how delightfully unorthodox a singer Linda Perry intends to be. A tremendous amount of information is conveyed to you, the baffled and perhaps somehow repelled listener in the first seven words of what's up. That's what's up question mark. The song is named that because the song title What's Going On was taken by Marvin Gay.

So Linda is either being deferential to Marvin Gay or she's arrogantly positing what's up as the GenX answer to Marvin Gay is what's going on. Or maybe she's being both arrogant and deferential, which is a different. totally Gen X thing to do both somehow. So let's go with both. There are no mistakes. No bum notes. No mistimed syllables on what's up. Give Linda

this if nothing else. She sounds like this on purpose. And this ain't a billion views song if she doesn't sing it like this. Quote, I'm not interested in preserving the status quo. I want to overthrow it. End quote. Machiavelli said that.

I forgot how I got on Machiavelli initially, that's weird. I apologize for that. Linda's pre-choruses are usually better than her choruses. I don't know why that's true, but it's true. The melody here. Dude, resist the urge to fixate on the word sometimes. They're perhaps excess pizzazz of sometimes, and focus on the length and elegance of the melody here.

This melody requires multiple breaths. You write this melody, you can wear a giant hat everywhere. You find a memorable and peculiar way to sing this melody. You can slap some giant goggles on your giant hat. Them's the rules. Though the second verse is where we start getting extra salty. I feel like the word revolution is where the true haters are born. Yes?

The controlled demolition of a revolution. What's up is the karaoke? version of itself. Linda sings it like she's singing it at karaoke, three hours and eight beers in. The avant-garde portion of a karaoke excursion. How about a bit

more screaming for the road, eh? The barrage of ya's there. I'm not even trying to imitate those. All the ya's are for the haters, yeah? But don't sleep on the swamp thing of that last

line. Eh, what's going? know, so much 90s alternative rock prides itself on its gnarliness, right, on its righteous ugliness, the growling, the grunting, the very word grunge, the subversion, the authenticity. But there's a difference between paying lip service to the idea of gnarliness and devoting yourself body and soul to the idea of controlled gnarliness. What's up is a super punk rock delivery of a not at all punk rock song. And that is more punk rock, quote unquote, than a normal delivery of a very punk rock song. You get me? Don't make me look up a Machiavelli quote that pertains to that idea. Hey, remember when this happened? We got two tremendously improbable

occurrences colliding in midair here. First of all, this isn't Linda singing. How about that? Here we have DJ Miko, M-I-K-O, which is not a person, a DJ, but rather an Italian group that here features an initially uncredited vocal from Maria Capri. That's Maria singing. You hear this credited sometimes to another DJ Miko vocalist named Louise Garde, but I'm pretty sure this is Maria. This is a cover, not a remix. Get a load of the pipes on Maria. I was all said to tell you that part in the majesty of What's Up was that nobody could possibly sing it anywhere near the way Linda Perry

sang it, but Maria would like a word. This version was a huge hit in 1993. And the second improbable aspect here is that this version collapses the spiritual distance between the original What's Up and Barbie Girl,

like four years before Barbie Girl even exists. Remarkable. Could this song be the revolution for which Linda Perry prayed every single day. Absolutely not, but it's pretty dope. Okay, hey, remember when this happened? I wasn't up on this.

Will you think less of me if I admit that I was not aware of the 2005 He-Man meme-ass remix of What's Up? This is like the internet before the internet was horrible. The internet in 2005 was just this, those G.I. Joe PSA videos and the Yacht Rock series. Those were the only three things on the internet. A simpler time. A better time.

Did you hear the AOL instant messenger beeps in the background there? Yeah, you did. Hey, remember when this happened? Yeah, this happened like a month ago. Dolly Parton. The Dolly Parton put out an album called Rockstar in November 2020. And the single art for her cover of What's Up features Linda Perry playing guitar in a jaunty, giant hat, but for some reason

the cover art makes it look like Linda is wearing the hat and playing guitar while sitting in a trash can. And somebody please get back to me on the significance of that. But holy shit, Dolly Parton. A much newer country star named

Lainey Wilson, the reigning CMA winner for Entertainer of the Year, Lainey Wilson, covered what's up in 2022. And she did a lovely job, but seriously, Dolly Parton. And I know the question you have right now, and I had the same question. And I'm relieved to tell you that Dolly did it right, because of course she did. All of these years and my life is still, just trying to get up

that great big hill of hope. She switched it up a little bit to all of these years because Dolly is not 25 years old, but she got the cadence right. She got the rushed cadence right. Dolly knows that this song is the destination. Dolly knows that this is the revolution for which we prayed every single day. I thought the rest interested me, but apparently it doesn't. Four non-blondes flames out.

Linda Perry goes solo. Her 1996 solo debut in-flight is a little clunky. It doesn't do much. She goes through a few personal struggles. And then, dot, dot, dot, suddenly Linda Perry is writing bonkers hit songs for Pink, Christina Aguilera, and Gwen Stefani. plus deep cuts from what, Adele,

Hull, early Solange, Celine Dion, et cetera. Linda Perry did not sound in 1992 like the sort of songwriter who could successfully transplant her voice into another pop star's mouth. But maybe that's how you do that by aggressively not trying to do that.

Hey, you know who hates pretty much the whole Four Non Blonde's album? Actually, Linda Perry. In 2011, in conversation with Rolling Stone, the same year Rolling Stones' readers credited her with the 10th worst song of the 90s, Linda says, quote, I'm not supposed to tell you this. And my publicist said to me, please don't say this, but I wasn't really a big fan of my band. I didn't like the record at all. Drifting was the only song I loved. I did love What's Up, but I hated the production. When I heard our record for the first time, I cried. It didn't sound like me. It made me belligerent and a real asshole. I wanted to say, we're a fucking badass cool band. We're not that fluffy, polished bullshit that you're listening to. It was really difficult. End quote, rude. Okay, so here's drifting, aka the only good song in the four non-blonnes record, according to the lady

who wrote pretty much the whole record. Well, I can't disagree with any of that, but I still prefer I'm too sexy, you know, but we are entitled to our opinions, no matter how rude and or wrong they might be. In conclusion, Linda Perry is very much not a Barbie girl in a Barbie world. Linda Perry will provide her own gruff counterpoint.

Thank you very much. You are, of course, entitled to your own personal top ten worst songs of the 90s. And Linda may not even object if what's up is one of them. But without your personal top 10 worst songs of the 90s, your personal version of the 90s wouldn't exist at all. We are so honored to be joined once again by Leslie Gray Streeter, dear friend of the show, columnist for the Baltimore Banner, author of Black Widow, and co-host of the splendid podcast, fine beats and cheeses. God bless you for coming back.

Hello, Leslie. Welcome. I am so I told you before we started recording a little bit of a clint because like this is pretty much the end, my friend. We're getting towards all the songs you can get out of the 90s basically. So I'm so honored to be here one more time. It's the end of an era. I'm not, I'm not any happier about it than you are.

But it's got to end some sometimes. The 90s have to end sometime. You know, why not 20, 24? You know what? If it has to. Right. It's we'll see. But yeah, we'll find something else to do with ourselves. But thank you so much for coming back.

Leslie, do you get offended on Linda Perry's behalf when you see what's up on somebody's list of the worst songs in the 90s? Or should Linda be honored in a perverse way? I get pretty insulted because it's a really great song. I think it's a great song. I think also you and I've had discussions that you have discussed the intricacies of 90s music criticism and who was writing it and who they were writing it for, which was dudes writing it for each other. And if they wrote about women, they wanted them to be conventionally hot.

So a woman who went out of her way to not look conventionally hot, although she is attractive, she was openly gay, she had what approximates like dreadlocks or whatever, she wore oversized clothes. she was not here for your reindeer games. And I think that also there's the, what I do, the podcast that we do is about things that people sometimes find cheesy because they're earnest or because they're, you know, anthemic or because people seem to enjoy them too much. And in the early 90s, you were not supposed to enjoy anything. If you were to be taken seriously, it was supposed to be morose and sad and disaffected and completely unantemic. So I think that those are two reasons that it looked like a novelty song to people. It looked like the macarena.

And it was not. It was a song about what was happening and how you feel at that age. And yeah, I'm fisticuffs on Linda's behalf. There you go. Linda really appreciates that. The sincerity of it then, you know, the lack of irony. Like just meaning what you said in 1992 was just not cool. Not at all. Not at all. And I think that it's one of the things

I was 23 when the song, 22 when the song came out, and now I'm 52, so it's like almost literally 30 years later. And I always like big booming, whatever. I remember like standing outside or train stations singing, I'll never get over you, getting over me loud on my disc man, you know, when I moved to Miami in my, you know, granny dress and my fake Doc Martins, you know, living the dream. And I was so on point. It was tragic. That's beautiful.

I didn't care then. And I don't care then. I wish I could still wear that dress. Sure. What do you make of the hats? You know, when I think of Linda in that video, I think of the giant hat with the goggles. Like, just from a fashion perspective, what is your, what's your take? There was a whole weird, fake 60s weird hat thing happening.

Blossom was a thing. Oh, that's right. That's a really good comparison. Wow. Big hats were like, I feel like there was like a black crow situation like on the take your money maker thing. Like hats were big. You look kind of like 60s cat in the hat. I don't know why.

You just did. But it was a thing that people did. And it did invoke like a, you know, freewheeling, you know, hippies. We kind of do what we want to. We dress how we want. It doesn't have to match. It's just what we feel on our heart sort of a thing. And I don't know why it reminds me a little of the No Rain video,

because I don't think they're any hats. It was people just like bees. But it was other big party of wacky misfit people outside doing their musical situation. And I was like, okay, I like that too. I like that song too. No, no rain is absolutely a wacky giant hat song, even if there are no wacky giant hats, like physically. present. You can just tell. It has that aura about it. I agree completely with you. Absolutely.

You mentioned to me like the early 90s hippie thing. You said like the Black Crow's De La Sol you mentioned and Fondon. I wouldn't have put those three together, but that does make a lot of sense to me. Like what was that about really? Was it about getting back to the 60s or updating the 60s or what do you think the vibe? Why did we do that? You know, it's so funny. It's the way that like kids are looking back at the 90s and going, oh, what a great thing. We're like, what? And I think that some of the, even in the 90s fashion was like the, the round the John Linen glasses and that kind of thing and the dresses or whatever.

I think that there's always a nostalgia for things that not only look like they're cool because they're older and you can kind of make it with you one, but also at that time we were at war, as we seem to always be now. the 60s seemed like a, for those of us who's, you know, I was born in the early 70s, the 60s were my parents' generation. So I knew a lot about like civil rights and, you know, the anti-war movement and that kind of thing. So evoking during wartime a allegedly more peaceful time, even if you had to simplify it to make it that way seemed like a good idea, you know. I literally like, and this is people who don't already know that I'm very cheesy, we'll go, oh, that's it, she's done it.

Like, the Wilson Phillips existing in the 90s is because of 60s nostalgia. And then they did a song called The Dream is Still Alive that was about recapturing the peaceful togetherness vibe of the 60s, which was a hit. So that doesn't happen without a specific marketing. Once again, Wilson Phillips, Nelson doesn't happen without the 60s. Oh, Nelson. Hell yes, to Nelson. After the rain, you know, the Indian and the video, it's probably, that video probably does not hold up.

We can't do that. Yeah. You can't do that now. No, you can't. I covered them once. I covered like 2002 or 2003 in Stewart, Florida, and Gutter Nelson hit on my friend that I brought with me. It was really funny. Yeah, it was a fun time. Yeah, it was fun time. I bet it was. You described what's up to me as a Generation X anthem. You know, what do you mean by that?

And what does it say about Gen X, you know, that this is one of our anthems? Well, I will say also to just a disclaimer that every generation blames the one before. No, not Mike in the mechanics. That's good, good poll there. That's a good one, too. Sure. It just happened. Every generation is focused on their youth and the things that came out when they were young. So they define, I imagine that there are people who would listen to that now, if they really listen to the song, who might embrace it.

I think what the, my friend who pointed out to me, the 25 years, I'm out here still trying to get at that great big hill of hope. I was 22 when the song came out, but it encompassed this idea that at 25 or 22 or 20, whatever, you were supposed to figure out where you were going and that you were supposed to you did all the things you graduated from college you you know got what you were supposed to do and now even if you had a job it was supposed to mean something and get on that track to being an adult and i mean i dare say that every year we every decade we go forward we are less considered adults at an early age you know like my my parents got married at 23 almost like 24 you know I got married at 38. But then again, I owned a home in my late 20s. So it's just there was a flip-flop. Now younger kids, people in their 20s can't afford to own a home.

They don't want to get married early. They're worried about a lot of parents. Yeah. Yeah, but that we were the generation who were quote unquote slackers, but you know, we graduated directly into a recession. And it's, that's why I say kids now can really understand that. we graduated into a recession where we were supposed to still figure out. We were slackers, quote unquote, if we, because what the song is saying is it's like,

you've told me this stuff and I'm supposed to do it, but I can't figure out how that relates to my life. And so the very edgy, the very clever get up that great big hill of hope or whatever that means, it's like we've been fed these platitudes and these instructions about this is the way it's supposed to work. And if you just keep pushing, nose to the grindstone, 40 hours a week, you'll get there. Boots. Yeah. Boots. Seriously, you can't afford straps or boots. You know, and I could afford them a lot more in 1993 than people my age, who are my age now, you know, can. So it was this idea that all you have, the only thing you're solid in is that you're not solid in

anything, but you still, it's emphatic. It's this, I scream from the top of my lungs what's going on and the fact that other people can relate to it because we all felt that way. That's the anthem part. That's the, we are in a loud and buoyant way laying claim to our disaffection rather than like, you know, Nirvana or Pearl Jam who were like, it was a different thing. And I will say as a woman, I mean, a lot of women listen to Nirvana and Pearl Jam, and I like Pearl Jam a lot. But there was mostly I like Pearl Jam because Eddie Vedder and I have the same favorite songwriter, which is Neil Finn, but that's a whole other thing. Okay. I think that with a lot of Fordham Blondes, which was a female or, depending on the lineup, mostly female band, certainly a female lead band, which was doing kind of like your jangly, slightly 60s, very melodic kind of a thing.

and they were approaching this disaffection in a way that I would not say female-ish because I will say that Linda Perry would probably not like to be typed into... Pigeonhold, no. Pigeonhold, yes, into like this is what femaleness is or maleness is or whatever. But I think that certainly there was this woman hitting all these high notes who was singing the song from her perspective, and it was melodic. And it was upbeat for a slightly, if not, depressing, certainly unsettling song about not knowing what the hell you're supposed to be doing with your life.

Sure. I was going to ask you if you personally have made it up that great big hill of hope to your destination. But that question sounds a little glib to me now, but I'll ask it anyway. How's it going over there? I think I have as much as you can. You know, I feel like I'm ahead, you know, I've had losses. I've had setbacks. I've had stuff. But, you know, at this moment, you know, as democracy does whatever it's doing and I'm, you know, crossed my fingers on, dies, yeah, crossing my fingers on this thing. I, you know, I own a home and I have really great job

and I get to meet people like you and I'm about to, you know, I got a book I finished that we're going to start shopping and I got there's stuff that's hope, that's hopeful. And I think that what I know now, I think what Linda Perry, when she wrote this was beginning to understand, was that you can keep sliding up that hill,

Ryan down the hill, flying up the hill, sliding down the hill, and you will be certain places at different times in your life. But it's the forward motion. That's the most important part. What was your first exposure to this song? Just to her voice, to her singing voice, were you confused, alarmed, electrified?

Like, it gets a reaction. It gets some kind of reaction immediately. It does. I think if you come back with me to the early 90s where the bodyguard had just come out. And, you know, so the idea of what it means for a woman to be able to sing was very specific in pop culture. It was Whitney Houston. It was Maya Kerry.

It was, you know, we had not yet met pink, although she figures into this Linda Perry story as well. But there was, it was a very specific voice. And so Linda Perry's voice the first time I heard I did the, it's kind of gravely and it's kind of like she's trying make it not be pretty. But when she gets to that, you can't do that if you can't sing, you know. That was amazing. Oh, thank you.

Thank you. All right. It's a hard freaking note to hit, man. You didn't look like it was hard. You just sort of lean back slightly. The casualness of it was amazing. Ah, ah. Why, thank you.

You know what I'm saying? She does that, man, and she could do that. So when I heard this kind of like gravely, almost trying to be dissonant, you know, voice, and then she nails that course, which is once again a thing that she is so known for. Her best songs have those big anthemic courses that either you do them in open mic night or, you know, people doing karaoke and that's not always successful, but that's fine. You're not in karaoke. to be the best.

Although... To be successful. Right, right. Then again, you and I have both been to karaoke nights where I used to say like in the 90s

there was always like four different people. One was like the group of drunk girls who would sing like a virgin. Sure. Yeah, yeah. There were like the guys

who would hold the microphone at an angle in their tight black t-shirt and sin pearl jam. Okay. The brooders. You know those guys. Got it.

Sure I do. Christina Aguilera. you know, Whitney Houston people or they were just... Yeah, the belters, yeah. Yeah, and then there were the wild cards where you would get up and you would go, I wonder what this person's going to sing.

And I'd go, oh, I did not expect that. Right. Which archetype were you? I was the wild card. I was the wild card because nobody had any idea I would get up. My sister and I went, we were on a cruise and someone said,

you guys are going to sing Whitney Houston? And we said, no. Yeah, we are. And I think we sang high enough by Dan. Yankees. Oh my God. That's beautiful. What a great song.

Oh, it's so great. I met a good friend of mine who was a karaoke guy years ago because he saw damn Yankees. He goes, oh, coming up, Len and Leslie doing Broadway,

we're like, do do do do do. He's like, oh, that damn Yankees are like. Different damn Yankees. That's a great song. It's a great. Cruz.

What a lovely image. That's like a movie scene. It is. It was like 1993, I guess, and we were like all cute and young with our, you know, a little straight bob, you know, Jada Pinkett, living single haircuts, whatever. And we just came and nailed that shit. And they were like, what? It was really funny.

It was very funny. But we done that a couple times. But yeah, so this song, What's Up, is so. It can mean a lot of things. When you first asked me about it, it's like some people don't even know what it means. It just seems like a dodgy gobbledy-gook. They're like, for non-blondes, what does that mean?

Is it a comment on, you know, beauty standards? Is it just something goofy? Like, what does it mean? Or whatever that means, you know? And I just, I feel like it's just, the cry sometimes when I'm lying in bed, that's so specific. I mean, you could cry at any time. I, you know, I don't really cry in bed at shit anymore.

but there's that situation when you're younger, thank you, when you are just overwhelmed. The song's about being overwhelmed about not only where you are, but where you think you're supposed to be, where people expect you to be, where you expected yourself to be because somebody else told you that's where you were supposed to be.

And those things are trying to get it out what's in my head. And the joyous part is the waking up in the morning because you woke up after the crime, and stepping outside and taking a breath and are you high on life? Are you high on things that make you high? It's ambiguous. It's ambiguous. And you scream because it's a barbaric yelp,

as those of us who've seen De Poet Society or read Walt Mittman have. It's just a thing from your soul that makes you go, and you don't care if it's pretty. You don't care if anybody else likes it. And you certainly don't care if it's like anybody else's Yelp, because it's barbaric, yo. from Walt Whitman, from the damn Yankees to Walt Whitman. You know, we try to keep it fresh over here. Absolutely incredible.

You mentioned earlier, like, did Fortinand Blonde's feel inherently political or radical or groundbreaking to you? Like, in all female bands, you know, as you say for a time, you know, they were all out, which was quite rare in 1992. You know, Linda wrote, I think, Dyke and Choice on her guitar when she played Letterman. Yes. Like, did they feel like loudly radical or quietly radical to you at the time? I will go back to the, without, you know, making any less friends at 90s publications

than I already have during the recording of these podcasts. Yeah, yeah. There were, those things were there if you were there to take them seriously and focus on them. But I don't think that that's what the focus was. Nowadays, you would absolutely notice that and she would be heralded for, you know, being a female-led band of queer people and who went on television, you know, on a show, you know, at that point, late night in the late 90s, in the early 90s was still him like jumping on stuff and crazy suits and like you could go to any. Elcro. Yeah.

You could go to. Yeah. You could go to any college and they would have like the fake the late night shirts, late night at University of Maryland. Whatever. It was all about drinking and whatever. So that was the aesthetic of that show. So for her to go on that show with a guitar with the word Dyke painted on it, it was inherently political, but I don't think people focused on that so much because I don't think either they got it or they weren't paying attention or it was too easy to have put them into a box they had already put them in so you didn't have to take them seriously. So yeah, I think that I consider them political, but I think that other people weren't necessarily paying attention.

those who did got it. I mean, and she did a lot of stuff. I mean, she did like a live Tommy with the who, you know, where she... That's right. That's right. She was very plugged into that. And she did, like, on Howard Stern. Was Howard Stern?

No. Wasn't Howard Stern. Like a lesbian dating thing. She was on Howard Stern. She was Howard Stern. Yeah. So, I mean, she was out there. But then again, the Howard Stern audience of that time was looking to see lesbian kids.

I will one day run, because I don't have the whole time to tell you a story. I will tell a story that when Howard Stern came to Central Pennsylvania in 1997, they did one of those big, it was tertiary radio. So we went all down to the big radio station tower thingy. And they did one of those press conferences where he would be up in New York and like, you know, it's the greatest day of your life. You know, he was doing the whole Howard Stern and the 90s thing. And so I was the first person who had to interview him because I worked for an afternoon paper. So if I interviewed him first, I could still jump back in the car and get and make my deadline.

So he said it was one of those like crazy like stations like from the 80s or something where it's like, you know, like a girl named hot girl named Fox with two X's and like one black guy or whatever. So I'm terrified. I'm terrified. And I go because I'm like, I can't. Howard Stern, Howard Stern, Howard Stern, they'll be humiliated.

So I said, Hi, Howard, I go, I'm the black guy. And he goes, what? This is a guy? And they go, no, no, no. And they go, so then, of course, he gets disgusting. He goes, oh, she's a chick.

She's a black chick. He starts asking the guys around me if they'd screw me, if I was hot, that hot. He asks me if I've ever, like, who was better in bed, black guys or white guys or whatever. And I'm just trying to get, so I get gone. So I ask him, like, knowing that eventually,

my grandmother might hear this. And I don't know. My grandmother, who when a book came out, said, I didn't appreciate the language, but it was very good. I said, I asked for a question about private parts that was at that point, his book was being made into a movie. Yeah, yeah. And then I jumped out and left.

And I could hear from the car that he was asking the next female reporter if I was still there and if she would make out with me. And what's interesting is that that girl, that young woman, had been my manager at Burger King in Baltimore in 1987. Okay. This is a plot twist. And I didn't know until she got there. She worked at our rival paper.

And she's like, hey, aren't you that girl that left? Like, because she was too nice and she hated it there. I go, yes, that was me. So all of that is my Howard Stern story. So this is... In conclusion, yeah, tough era. This is the zeitgeist into which female professionals, artists, anybody are being released. Either you're weird or do they want to have sex with you?

If they don't, would you have sex with someone else who is not me? So I can listen. So that is why, ladies and gentlemen, it was maybe not covered as well about the importance of who they were because she wasn't going to sleep with them or maybe make out with someone else in front of them. I don't know. No, I get you. That all makes a lot of sense. She also sort of avoided, I don't remember when women in rock, quote unquote, started in earnest, but I feel like four non-blons missed it. Like, I feel like it was Alanis, right? You know, where that really starts kicking off. Cheryl Crowe and then Alanus. Yeah, right, right. And Sheryl's the same time.

Cheryl's right around the same time and Alonis the next year in 95. But once again, women in WOC was also does she look hot on the cover? Is she Liz Fair? You know is she a woman who is gleefully

filthy but in a way that guys will appreciate because whatever. And so I don't think Linda Perry was interested in that to her credit and maybe she would have had a different career. I mean there's a quote I read for her when she starts producing pink and she had

was supposed to be making an album and said to her producers, hey, listen, I'm not going to do this. I'm just going to produce and write. They were like, no, what? But she made a decision because she felt she had something to say, even if it was through other people. Right. It's hard.

I know what you're talking about it. It's hard to imagine her singing, like, get the party started, right? Like, that doesn't make any sense now. Like, that seems like such a logical, like the right decision. You know, if she's going to start writing more pop, like pure. pop songs.

Like, do you hear, I was going to ask, do you, when you listen to Pink or like, Beautiful by Christina Aguilier is always the one. Do you hear Linda Perry like clearly through those songs or is her skill that she sort of sublimates herself, you know, to the singer? I think in beautiful and in Hurt, both of those songs, A, there's a great big chorus, a great big refrain. No, I get that. And also, like what's up, those songs are about the concept of, I'm expected to be a certain thing.

I'm expected to look a certain way, react a certain way to people who hurt me or don't hurt me. I'm expected to roll with punches that society is something I'm supposed to. And I don't know how to do that. Every day it's so wonderful and suddenly it's hard to breathe. It's like you wake up going, oh, I'm this face of this positivity, but it also sucks. and it's also hard. And I think that the earnestness of what's up can be heard in those. Even like get the party started, which I absolutely used this morning.

We were walking to school, my 10-year-old and I was freezing outside. And he's like, I hate this. I look, let's drive. And I go, come on, may I keep walking? Get the party started. He says, dead pan, I don't want to go to the party. And I was like, but you're invited brother. You're invited, brother.

You're on a list. We kind of kidnapped you. Let's keep walking. You're my plus one to the party. To the party, whether you want to be, because I'm driving. You can't get home. Yeah. What are you going to do?

So how many of us have been at that party in our teens and 20s where we didn't drive and go fudge? Why didn't I drive? Because now you're stuck at this freaking party. Yes. I don't remember a lot of bad language in your book that your grandmother would object to. I used the word fuck a lot. And I used the word. the first couple pages they used like sparkly cluster fuck.

Great sparkly cluster fuck. And she was like, what? I'm like, just go with it, man. Just, it's fine. And she passed away. I have. She passed away in May. So she could,

she will not hear this. But thank you. She was awesome. And she got to understand that I was just, her mother had a favorite cursed word. I mean, wasn't like nobody around her grandmother cursed. Yeah, exactly.

Don't act like you never cursed yourself. Yes, it just, she did not, but everyone else did. Anyway, so, Yeah, I hear her in those songs and I hear, and you're right, because there are people who can write, even look at like Max Martin and stuff, like they were writing songs for like 16-year-old American girls,

you know, that seemed, you know, to make perfect sense that I never heard those guys sing. They probably would have sounded weird. Super weird. Hit me maybe one more time, but also the fact that those things were all written phonetically and they didn't understand what they actually meant in English. That's the key. It makes me laugh. it makes me laugh. I'm still thinking about if we put out what's up today,

it would be like 45 years in my life is still, right? Like the age just keeps increasing. You have no idea where you're going, especially post-COVID, I imagine. Post-COVID, I mean, look at like something, like 30-something that came out in the 80s. They were so old. Remember how old they seemed to you?

They seemed so freaking old. They all have beards and stuff. Like, why are there so many beards? Yeah, a lot of beards. They are 20 years younger than I am. But also, they were that late baby boomer age, where they were, I guess that came out in the mid-80s. So they were probably in their late-ish 20s, maybe early 30s. Yeah, their 30-something, duh.

So they were in their 30s. And so they were a little younger than my parents. So they had that very clear, raised by. greatest generation people, you were supposed to be this. By this time, you're supposed to be married and have kids. And like Michael and Hope Stedman, they were the good marriage. You know, Elliot and his ass, you know, he was cheating on his wife. That did not work.

So it's like, spoiler for a 40-year-old show. And like Peter, who was like the hot kind of Peter Pan guy. You know the names of the characters of 30-something. Of course I. That's very impressive, I guess. It came out when I was in high school. So we thought those guys were all hot at a huge crush on Timothy Busfield. It's, you know, that's just me.

And so that was aspirational. But then you're like, oh, they have a lot of problems. Like nothing's settled, right? They're in their 30s. So yeah, 35 years I'm up here still trying to get up to a great big hill of hope. You know, so yeah, 45, I think that a lot of people my age in their early 50s or people your age in their 40s still don't. we're still trying to wrap our reality against the things we want versus the things we were told we were supposed to have. And how much of each of those things it's okay to want?

Well, said, as always, we're going to have you back and you're just going to sing, if that's all right. I would like for you to just sing, I want you to sing all of what's up. I want you to sing damn Yankees, absolutely, for sure that needs to happen. We've met my sister. The Yoki episode. We're in it. That me and Lynn will, you know, we're in it to win it. And people will be like, but why?

But why not is the better question. You know, burn it all down, man. It's all ending. Burn it down. Exactly. That's like when democracy dies, it's time to sing damn Yankees, I think. Always wonderful to talk to you, Leslie. You're amazing.

Thank you, Rob. Thanks very much to our guest this week, Leslie Gray Streeter. Thanks, as always to our producers, Jonathan Kermah and Justin Sales. and thanks very much to you for listening. And now I really must insist that you go listen to What's Up by Four Non Blonds. We'll see you soon.