One Chevy Suburban and a Rand McNally To Go, Please.

When I was a kid, they used to make those massive Rand McNally maps of the United States.

You might still get them at a local Barnes and Noble, but there’s no business in hard copy maps anymore due to the easy access of GPS on our phones and in our cars. That big book detailing all the roads and parks was entertainment for me living on our homestead in the countryside of Kentucky. We didn’t have a computer or television – in fact, we didn’t have electricity. My entertainment was either my imagination fighting dragons in the woods with wooden swords, listening to Eddie Vedder belt out “Even Flow” (1991) on the radio, or reading the many books from the shelves of our home. But most of all, I remember the maps, and I dreamed of roaming the countryside, following the highlighted curves of the road in a Chevy Suburban I’d call home.

I had a plan.

With each park or place of significance, I would play one of my favorite songs. I grew up with 90s grunge and pop. I wore flannel shirts at school and grew my hair long. I thought I was so cool as the girls in school would braid my hair and talk of boyfriends, cheap lipstick, and the latest Madonna track. All the while, I’d listen to music constantly – everything from classical, Irish, new age, to grunge. My collection of cassettes and CDs of all the bands I heard on the radio grew to a staggering amount. I’d record Casey Kasem’s Top 40 on Saturday mornings – you know the drill: get a piece of tape and place over one side of the cassette tape to record whatever was on the radio. Those were the days. Music was a large part of it, and still is. Music has the capacity to define who we are. Music gets us through tough times and can capture the joy we feel at any particular moment. It has the ability to transport us back in time to our childhood, our first love, the first day of college - music has immense power.

Of all the songs I learned by heart, one band in my 90s teenage years stuck out: U2, and their album, Joshua Tree (1987). Although released in the late 80s, it played on the charts and the radio stations in the early 90s, growing a fan base and achieving awards and their place among the stars. What a magnificent album. If I were to be stranded on a deserted island, and if I had one album to bring with me with unlimited batteries for a CD player, I’d bring that one. Driving west on I40, my goal was to arrive at the edge of the Grand Canyon, look out into the wide expanse of empty air and the blurred lines of the other side, and silently listen to “One Tree Hill”:

Of course, there were other proper 90s bands that had their place on the marked-up Rand McNally: Pearl Jam’s “Daughter” (93), Collective Soul’s “Shine” (93), Counting Crow’s “Round Here” (93), Smashing Pumpkin’s “1979” (95), and Bon Jovi’s “Bed of Roses” (92). Other honorable mentions for the road trip: Soundgarden, Guns-n-Roses (“November Rain” [91], which I’d listen to on the radio at one in the morning), and Sting’s album, Ten Summoner’s Tales, and his song, “If I Ever Lose My Faith In You” (93). I was a big Nirvana fan after Cobain passed away, Nine Inch Nails had its place, and (don’t tell anyone!) Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” (97). Yeah, those high school sweetheart days watching Titanic for the hundredth time in the back seat of the local movie theater – you can’t forget them.

As for decades go, the 90s brought about an interesting break-through in post-modern expression, following the 80s explosion of artistic freedom and electronic style.

The 90s was all about the reemergence of the gritty electric guitar and the rise of Pop. The 90s generation needed to create something of their own, and they succeeded to place their mark in the evolution of musical expression of our human condition. Hip Hop and Rap found it’s calling alongside the Seattle Grunge movement. Pop music began to fully mature, emerging as a revamped genre, with Michael Jackson’s “Bad” (87) and “Man in the Mirror” (87) solidifying a new generation of Pop that Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Savage Garden, and Madonna captured in the 90s, playing comfortably next to artists like Bruce Springsteen and his “Streets of Philadelphia” (93). We owe our gratitude to those kings and queens of Pop for the music we hear today. East and West Coast Rap (Notorious B.I.G. verses Tupac) fought musical (and physical) battles with each other, and Temple of the Dog introduced the powerful vocals of Eddie Vedder from Pearl Jam to the world:

Pearl Jam is the most iconic band that ever graced the decade of the 90s. Period.

Alongside the grunge kings Nirvana, Soundgarden, and Alice In Chains, lead singer Eddie’s unique, deep voice echoed with gritty electric guitar riffs, smooth bass, and slamming drums in one of my most favorite songs from Pearl Jam's 1991 debut album, Ten: “Alive.” I remember those teenage nights, where I’d walk outside in the cool dark, headphones on, and play Pearl Jam’s tape while lip syncing with Eddie, pretending I was him on stage in front of thousands of adoring fans and rockers. Ten was the first cassette I owned, and “Alive” the first song I loved:

We all have our generation of music. It’s all relative to our childhood and coming-of-age years. It’s relative to our love life or our moments of relaxation. For me, it was the 90s that set the artistic foundations of who I am today.

Is it tricky to name a favorite song of all time? Not really. U2’s, “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” (87), ranks #1 on my list and has always been there since I first heard the song in 1994. U2 dominated the radio in the early 90s with that album, reaching its peak in sales and awards, thereby firmly placing itself in the history of 90s music. It was the year I received my first CD player, and U2’s Joshua Tree the first CD to break it in:

When that song plays now on SiriusXM’s PopRocks or Lithium channel, I tell the boys, “That’s my favorite song!” “One Tree Hill” (with Pearl Jam and Collective Soul trailing close behind) ranked number two, and it found it’s spot on the map at the Grand Canyon. Although I never took that cross-country trip, I found myself one hot day visiting the Grand Canyon in 2005 before I headed south to Fort Huachuca, Arizona – my next duty station in the Army. When I arrived, I sat down on the ledge, relishing in the gravity and magnificence of the canyon. I pulled out my iPod, plugged in the headphones, and listened to “One Tree Hill.”

I think I cried knowing that I achieved at least one dream I had as a child.

Sting said it well in “Fields of Gold” (93): “you’ll remember me.” I will always remember and gaze upon the past, gaze out into the vast canyon, smiling fondly while reminiscing with the songs that made it somehow come “alive.”

Keep a tight hold on your childhood dreams... and keep listening.

-James