First of all, why a book that essentially covers the ‘90s milieu NOW?
With Alice In Chains, Stone Temple Pilots, Third Eye Blind, Soundgarden, etc. all back in the news, we’re rapidly approaching ‘90s burnout already. DAVIDSON: Har! Yeah, forget all the Mummies, Rip Offs, Oblivians, Gories, Teengenerate, and New Bomb Turks reunions! (Did we mention the Pixies for the millionth time?) Well yeah, you probably need at least 15 years away from something to gauge “import.” And 1988 was 22… But “import” wasn’t what I was after so much as stories of thrown bottles, fast records, and European bands with miniskirts. And lord knows crap like Alice in Chains got nothin’ to do with the inspiring scrounginess of the We Never Learn landscape! Plus, walk through Williamsburg and you’d swear it’s still 1987 anyway; yes, people wear acid washed jeans and think Paul Simon’s Graceland is good. It’s a 1987 mom paradise… so I’m way ahead of the curve. You don’t have to sell me on the importance of documenting it. But if the proverbial Martian landed and wanted to know wh
