Grunge. Wu-Tang Clan. Radiohead. “Wonderwall.” The music of the ’90s was as exciting as it was diverse. But what does it say about the era—and why does it still matter? On our new show, 60 Songs That Explain the ’90s, Ringer music writer and ’90s survivor Rob Harvilla embarks on a quest to answer those questions, one track at a time. Follow and listen for free exclusively on Spotify. Below is an excerpt from Episode 11, which explores the history of Kim Deal, the Breeders, and their biggest hit with help from Open Mike Eagle.
The Pixies formed in Boston in ’86. The frontman was Charles Thompson, then known as Black Francis. Joey Santiago played guitar. David Lovering played drums. And Kim Deal had never played bass before when in her mid-20s she answered a Boston Phoenix ad seeking somebody who was into both Hüsker Dü and Peter, Paul, and Mary. The ad also stipulated, “No chops.” This is maybe common knowledge. The Pixies’ sound is most definitely common knowledge. Abrasion. Surrealism. Unease. Disgust. But also, hooks. But also, arena-sized bombast.
The Pixies’ classic lineup put out four full-length albums. (Is Come on Pilgrim from 1987 an album, or an EP, or a demo, or what? Let’s not discuss this on the internet.) Doolittle is the best, Bossanova is the worst, and Trompe le Monde gets 10 times better every time I hear it. They broke up in ’93, by which time they had defined quote-unquote alternative rock, if only by inspiring young Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain to write an abrasive and ecstatic little quiet-verse-loud-chorus tune called “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” This, too, is common knowledge. By then Kim Deal had already formed her own band. And in ’93, thanks to the alt-rock gold rush Kurt Cobain triggered, that band, the Breeders, got an alt-rock hit of their very own.
This is 60 Songs That Explain the ’90s. Today: “Cannonball,” by the Breeders. Kim Deal’s voice—her physical singing and speaking voice—is one of my favorite musical instruments on this planet. She is from Dayton, Ohio—as are the Breeders, by extension—and I’m from Cleveland, so maybe partly this is Midwestern bias. But not entirely. There is a dark allure, there is a giddy and sinister sort of children’s-librarian warmth to Kim Deal’s voice even at its coldest. The first Breeders album, Pod, came out in 1990, back when the band was still perceived as the Pixies bassist’s side project. The album was produced by Steve Albini, prince of harshness, who handled Surfer Rosa as well despite not liking the Pixies very much; he seemed to like Kim Deal by herself a little more. Pod is harsh and murky and eerie and fairly terrifying. Kim sounds like Little Red Riding Hood describing everything in the forest that wants to eat her. She sounds like there’s blood on her own teeth, too.
The band’s early lineup included Tanya Donelly, herself then a second fiddle in the college-rock band Throwing Muses; Tanya would soon leave the Breeders to form her own group, Belly. Belly’s big hit was “Feed the Tree,” off 1993’s Star, which pound for pound was the scariest album I listened to constantly in high school. You know that Scarlett Johansson movie Under the Skin where she’s an alien murderer bumming around Scotland and, like, liquifying random dudes?
The Pixies finally break up in ’93. The previous year they’d spent a grueling couple of months opening for U2 on their Zoo TV tour promoting Achtung Baby. A fax machine was reportedly involved. Black Francis changed his name to Frank Black and embarked on a strange and lengthy and impressive solo career that has its moments, including this one.
By 1993, pretty much everybody gets a big alt-rock hit, and this is largely thanks to Kurt Cobain, to Nirvana, to 1991’s epochal “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” The alt-rock gold rush is on. But the Breeders, especially, are primed for big things this year, because Kurt Cobain likes the Breeders. In interviews he praises Pod in particular. Nirvana took the Breeders out on tour in ’92. The bands that opened for Nirvana, the music Kurt Cobain liked, the artists he shouted out in various sucky corporate magazines, now comprised their own canon of bulletproof coolness. Young Marble Giants. The Shaggs. The Stooges. The Melvins. Daniel Johnston. Half Japanese. The Raincoats. The Vaselines. Shonen Knife. One of the various through lines here is a childlike but also vaguely malevolent sort of feminine energy designed to liquify anybody who would even use the term “feminine energy.” For a while pop music, or at least popular rock music, was partially remolded in this one man’s furiously warped image. The Breeders could play pop music, too: They could crank out a couple of radio-friendly unit shifters. But someone as cheerfully warped as Kim Deal could only make pop music her own way. Chaotically.
To hear the full episode, click here, and be sure to follow on Spotify and check back every Thursday for new episodes on the most important songs of the decade. This excerpt has been lightly edited for clarity and length.
