90s Song Quotes

I get sentimental over the music of the ’90s. Deplorable, really. But I love it all. As far as I’m concerned the ’90s was the best era for music ever, even the stuff that I loathed at the time, even the stuff that gave me stomach cramps.

One of Renee's friends asked her, "Does your boyfriend wear glasses?" She said, "No, he wears a Walkman.

I have a good friend in the East, who comes to my shows and says, you sing a lot about the past, you can't live in the past, you know. I say to him, I can go outside and pick up a rock that's older than the oldest song you know, and bring it back in here and drop it on your foot. Now the past didn't go anywhere, did it? It's right here, right now. I always thought that anybody who told me I couldn't live in the past was trying to get me to forget something that if I remembered it it would get them serious trouble. No, that 50s, 60s, 70s, 90s stuff, that whole idea of decade packaging, things don't happen that way. The Vietnam War heated up in 1965 and ended in 1975-- what's that got to do with decades? No, that packaging of time is a journalist convenience that they use to trivialize and to dismiss important events and important ideas. I defy that.

I get sentimental over the music of the '90s. Deplorable, really. But I love it all. As far as I'm concerned, the '90s was the best era for music ever, even the stuff that I loathed at the time, even the stuff that gave me stomach cramps. Every note from those years is charged with life for me now. For instance, I hated Pearl Jam at the time. I thought they were pompous blowhards. Now, whenever a Pearl Jam song comes on the car radio, I find myself pounding my fist on the dashboard, screaming "Pearl JAM! Pearl JAM! Now this is rock and roll!

I wrote about everything I didn’t write on The Fame. While traveling the world for two years, I’ve encountered several monsters, each represented by a different song on the new record: my ‘Fear of Sex Monster,’ my ‘Fear of Alcohol Monster,’ my ‘Fear of Love Monster,’ my ‘Fear of Death Monster,’ my ‘Fear of Loneliness Monster,’ etc. I spent a lot of nights in Eastern Europe, and this album is a pop experimentation with industrial/Goth beats, 90’s dance melodies, an obsession with the lyrical genius of 80’s melancholic pop, and the runway. I wrote while watching muted fashion shows and I am compelled to say my music was scored for them.

There is no true, clean, definitive way to separate the art from the artist. Art fully separated from the artist ceases, in a fundamental way, to be art at all. The artist gives the art meaning.

[H]e asked Renee, “What does rock and roll have today that it didn’t have in the sixties?” Renee said, “Tits,” which in retrospect strikes me as not a bad one-word off-the-dome answer at all. The nineties fad for indie rock overlapped precisely with the nineties fad for feminism. The idea of a pop culture that was pro-girl, or even just not anti-girl -- that was a 1990s mainstream dream, rather than a 1980s or 2000s one, and it was real for a while. Music was not just part of it but leading the way -- hard to believe, hard even to remember. But some of us do.

Did you ever notice that new music, now, is nowhere near as great as the music you loved as a teenager? And you know what? You’re right. Whether you were a teenager in the 60s, the 90s, or the 2010s, you’re right. The music you loved as a teenager is the sweetest music you’ll ever hear; that music will be, in all likelihood, the greatest, wildest, purest love affair of your whole life.

1. Close Friend, someone who got yo back, yo "main nigga." 2. Rooted in blackness and the Black experience. From a middle-aged social worker: "That Brotha ain like dem ol e-lights, he real, he a shonuff nigga" 3. Generic, neutral refrence to African Americans. From a 30 something college educated Sista: "The party was live, it was wall to wall niggaz there" 4. A sista's man/lover/partner. from the beauty shop. "Guess we ain gon be seein too much of girlfriend no mo since she got herself a new nigga" From Hip Hop artist Foxy brown, "Ain no nigga like the on I got." 5. Rebellious, fearless unconventional, in-yo-face Black man. From former NBA superstar Charles Barkley, "Nineties niggas... The DailyNews, The Inquirer has been on my back... They want their Black Athletes to be Uncle Tom. I told you white boys you've never heard of a 90s nigga. We do what we want to do" quoted in The Source, December 1992). 6. Vulgar, disrespectful Black Person, antisocial, conforming to negative sterotype of African Americans. From former Hip Hop group Arrested Development, in their best-selling song, "People Everyday" 1992: A black man actin like a nigga... got stomped by an African" 7. A cool, down person, rooted in Hip Hop and black culture, regardless of race, used today by non-blacks to refer to other non-Blacks. 8. Anyone engaged in inappropriate, negative behavior; in this sense, Blacks may even apply the term to White folk. According to African American scholar Clarence Major's From Juba to Jive, Queen Latifah was quoted in Newsweek as criticizing the US government with these words. "Those niggers don't know what the fuck they doing

Was it as scary for you as it is for me? Falling for Sawyer?” “Not really, no.” She shakes her head. “I’m sure I had some of the same worries, everyone does. But I’m a leaper. You’re a thinker. We process things differently.” “You didn’t have a panic attack and run away?” I ask sarcastically. “No,” she muses. “Not even that time he refused to have sex with me.” “That was your first date, Everly. And you did have sex,” I remind her. I know, because I heard about it for a week. “Whew.” She blows out a breath. “It was a tough few hours though. How is Boyd’s POD by the way? Can we talk about that?” She leans forward on the couch, looking at me expectantly. “Um, no. I don’t think so.” She shrugs good-naturedly then changes the subject back to me. “Chloe, why didn’t you tell me you were struggling with your anxiety? You know I’m never too busy for you, no matter how many husbands or children I have.” “You have one husband, babe,” Sawyer says, walking into the room at that moment. “You’re still the one, baby.” “We’ve been married for three months, Everly. I sure as hell better still be the one.” “Sawyer,” she sighs. “I was trying to have a moment, okay? Work with me.” “Next time, try waiting more than a day after downloading Shania Twain’s greatest hits to your iPod. You do realize the receipts come to my email, don’t you?” “Um.” Everly looks away and scrunches her nose. “No?” “You’ve been on quite the 90’s love ballads kick this week. Which is weird, because you’re not old enough to have owned the CD’s those songs were originally released on.” He looks at her with amused interest. “What’s a CD?” She blinks at Sawyer dramatically. “Cute. Keep it up.” “Nineties music is all the rage with the millennials,” she tells him with a shrug. “I saw a blog post about it.” “Don’t worry, sweets. We’ll beat the odds together.” He winks and she scowls. “You’re still the only one I dream of,” he calls as he walks into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water. “See! I don’t even care that you lifted that from a song. It still gave me all the feels!

The Brain Song Reviews (2025) Official Website and Try Today (hfu) The Brain Song Reviews (2025) Official Website and Try Today (hfu) November 29, 2025 Mikaela Cougar's "The Brain Song": Deconstructing an Alt-Rock Anthem CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website In a music scene saturated with polished pop and predictable beats, Mikaela Cougar’s late 2024 release, "The Brain Song," offers something different: a raw, unfiltered sonic experience. Critics have described it as a "gritty, grungy track," reminiscent of Kurt Cobain's angst and Sheryl Crow's honest storytelling. This isn't designed for instant gratification; it's a 2-minute, 31-second journey into the messy reality of the modern mind. This review delves into the cultural, emotional, and musical layers of Cougar's track. It explores the song as a rebellious statement, a response to the pressures and expectations bombarding our psyches. Unlike other "brain songs" promising order, Cougar's embraces the beautiful chaos of genuine human thought. The Sonic Landscape: Grunge, Grit, and a Feminine Perspective Cougar describes herself as "the girl all those 90's rock boy bands were singing about, and these are my response songs." This provides a crucial framework for understanding the track. "The Brain Song" isn't just influenced by 90s alt-rock; it actively continues the themes of alienation, introspection, and resistance to oversimplification. Why Grunge? Distortion as Emotional Expression The "grungy" and "raw" production is intentional. Instead of the polished sound of modern music, this track uses distortion and a minimalist soundscape to reflect the overwhelmed, fragmented state of mind. The thick, abrasive guitar tone embodies mental friction – the anxiety, inner conflict, and constant noise that disrupts our peace. The raw production becomes the song's initial message: This isn't clean or easy. This is what honest thinking sounds like. The Vocals: Confession and Confrontation Cougar's vocal performance is a standout. Channeling the power of Alanis Morrissette and the theatricality of P!NK, she delivers a masterclass in controlled intensity. * **The Verse:** Expect a lower, conversational tone conveying brooding paranoia – the sound of quiet desperation as someone analyzes their flaws and the world's constraints. * **The Chorus:** The song likely explodes into a cathartic shout, unleashing the track's "gritty" core. This isn't a plea for help but a confrontation. It's the brain, tired of its own loops and societal pressures, finally screaming its truth. This dynamic between the quiet verse and explosive chorus mirrors the inner struggle – the sudden bursts of clarity or anger that cut through mental fog. Lyrical Themes: What the Brain Sings About Without readily available lyrics, we can infer the song's themes based on its title, genre, and Cougar's artistic vision. "The Brain Song" likely explores these alt-rock conflicts: Internal Censorship and Self-Doubt: The brain is often our harshest critic. The song likely confronts this inner voice, challenging the self-criticism or refusing to let negative thoughts win. It's the soundtrack to differentiating between your true self and the noise that tries to silence you. * **Possible Lyric:** “You built a cage with all the things you thought you knew / But the noise I hear is just the engine shaking loose.” The Overload of Modern Information: This song contrasts sharply with neuro-acousti

[Brynn] Arens met Rick Nielsen when Flipp played the Minneapolis club First Avenue in the mid-90's. "Rick got up - when he was not in the best of shape, he was drinking a lot - and jammed with us," Arens says. "We did our version of 'Let It Be,' and when we got done, he came back to our dressing room and said, 'What song did we play together?'" "Well," Arens told him, "we were playing 'Let It Be,' but I think you might have been playing 'Get Back.

Personally, I will never understand the critical association between “serious” music and “quality” music. In the ‘90s, however, one thing was spectacularly clear—if you played good-time, fun, party-songs, you were a joke; if you sang about hard times and depressing topics, you were legitimate.

Laidback Luke mentioned that he had his own record label, Mixmash Records, and if Tim continued to evolve at this pace, it was not impossible that he would one day release a song by Avici. Now attention was coming from England as well. The DJ and radio host Pete Tong had played the hottest house music on his BBC radio show since the early 90s and in April 2008 he announced a competition for young producers. Tim sent his song ‘Manman’, which to his great surprise was voted the winner by the listeners.

You know that one Jessica Simpson song?” “Don’t you dare bring 90’s pop into this,” I demanded. Again, I was absolutely not smiling. “Am I irresistible to you, Sanchez?

Okay, I have unfrozen the humans and adjusted their memories.' Beezlebub pouted. 'Buzzkill--I was just giving the people what they wanted.' Thor's look-a-like rolled his eyes. 'I do not believe singing along to a '90s rap song should have been construed as an invitation to turn them to ice.

I get sentimental over the music of the ’90s. Deplorable, really. But I love it all. As far as I’m concerned, the ’90s was the best era for music ever, even the stuff that I loathed at the time, even the stuff that gave me stomach cramps. Every note from those years is charged with life for me now. For instance, I hated Pearl Jam at the time. I thought they were pompous blowhards. Now, whenever a Pearl Jam song comes on the car radio, I find myself pounding my fist on the dashboard, screaming, “Pearl JAM! Pearl JAM! Now this is rock and roll! Jeremy’s SPO-ken! But he’s still al-LIIIIIIVE!” I don’t recall making the decision to love Pearl Jam. Hating them was a lot more fun.

Wonderwall” is the only ’90s song visible from space.

Rolling Stone named “MMMBop” the sixth-worst song of the ’90s.

She hung with hoodlums. So-called ‘rappers’ who really only write barely coherent poems about violence and debauchery.”… Hypocrite hovered over my tongue. Poems about violence and debauchery? Like he didn’t grow up in the ‘80s and ‘90s singing along to rhythmic revolutionaries, proud gangsters, and player presidents. Those songs only told what people were really going through. They were journalism, not instructions.

I’m more likely to get drunk and dance in someone’s yard, singing old 90s songs. In my bikini.

Driving home, we blasted a radio station playing pop songs from the decade we'd been teenagers. There was no pleasure in the world more precisely molded to the contours of my psyche than driving on moonlit roads with a friend, listening to '90s pop and fumbling for the shape of our feelings in the dark. Kyle had given me this holiday without my daughter as an experience of presence rather than just absence. All this time, our friendship had been teaching me about ongoingness—how intimacy holds friction alongside sustenance, how pain and proximity emerge from the same honesty.

PROVERB: “Wonderwall” is the only ’90s song visible from space.

The Brain Song Reviews (2025) Official Website and Try Today (i7rz) The Brain Song Reviews (2025) Official Website and Try Today (i7rz) November 26, 2025 Mikaela Cougar's "The Brain Song": Deconstructing an Alt-Rock Anthem CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website In a music scene saturated with polished pop and predictable beats, Mikaela Cougar’s late 2024 release, "The Brain Song," offers something different: a raw, unfiltered sonic experience. Critics have described it as a "gritty, grungy track," reminiscent of Kurt Cobain's angst and Sheryl Crow's honest storytelling. This isn't designed for instant gratification; it's a 2-minute, 31-second journey into the messy reality of the modern mind. This review delves into the cultural, emotional, and musical layers of Cougar's track. It explores the song as a rebellious statement, a response to the pressures and expectations bombarding our psyches. Unlike other "brain songs" promising order, Cougar's embraces the beautiful chaos of genuine human thought. The Sonic Landscape: Grunge, Grit, and a Feminine Perspective Cougar describes herself as "the girl all those 90's rock boy bands were singing about, and these are my response songs." This provides a crucial framework for understanding the track. "The Brain Song" isn't just influenced by 90s alt-rock; it actively continues the themes of alienation, introspection, and resistance to oversimplification. Why Grunge? Distortion as Emotional Expression The "grungy" and "raw" production is intentional. Instead of the polished sound of modern music, this track uses distortion and a minimalist soundscape to reflect the overwhelmed, fragmented state of mind. The thick, abrasive guitar tone embodies mental friction – the anxiety, inner conflict, and constant noise that disrupts our peace. The raw production becomes the song's initial message: This isn't clean or easy. This is what honest thinking sounds like. The Vocals: Confession and Confrontation Cougar's vocal performance is a standout. Channeling the power of Alanis Morrissette and the theatricality of P!NK, she delivers a masterclass in controlled intensity. * **The Verse:** Expect a lower, conversational tone conveying brooding paranoia – the sound of quiet desperation as someone analyzes their flaws and the world's constraints. * **The Chorus:** The song likely explodes into a cathartic shout, unleashing the track's "gritty" core. This isn't a plea for help but a confrontation. It's the brain, tired of its own loops and societal pressures, finally screaming its truth. This dynamic between the quiet verse and explosive chorus mirrors the inner struggle – the sudden bursts of clarity or anger that cut through mental fog. Lyrical Themes: What the Brain Sings About Without readily available lyrics, we can infer the song's themes based on its title, genre, and Cougar's artistic vision. "The Brain Song" likely explores these alt-rock conflicts: Internal Censorship and Self-Doubt: The brain is often our harshest critic. The song likely confronts this inner voice, challenging the self-criticism or refusing to let negative thoughts win. It's the soundtrack to differentiating between your true self and the noise that tries to silence you. * **Possible Lyric:** “You built a cage with all the things you thought you knew / But the noise I hear is just the engine shaking loose.” The Overload of Modern Information: This song contrasts sharply with neuro-acous

Proud enough to play in the club even, so I went up to Sterling Sound to have it pressed onto my own acetate. The studio engineer hunched over a lathe—a bulky device resembling an industrial sewing machine, with a twelve-inch platter at its base. After listening once and tweaking some dials, he placed a pristine, smooth piece of vinyl on the platter and pressed play on my digital audio tape, and the machine’s head descended onto the blank vinyl. Slowly, it began carving into the surface, writing our song into the wax. Technically, the stylus was etching grooves by drawing amplitudes and frequencies. But from where I stood, this machine was sculpting music. The purpose of an acetate is to create a sonically perfect master copy, which is then electroplated and turned into a “stamp” to press the audio onto more vinyl, which gets slipped into sleeves and shipped to stores. Watching the lathe do its thing, my mind drifted to the engineer who performed this task for “Le Freak,” producing a master disc that would go on to birth millions of replicas.

Proud enough to play in the club even, so I went up to Sterling Sound to have it pressed onto my own acetate. The studio engineer hunched over a lathe—a bulky device resembling an industrial sewing machine, with a twelve-inch platter at its base. After listening once and tweaking some dials, he placed a pristine, smooth piece of vinyl on the platter and pressed play on my digital audio tape, and the machine’s head descended onto the blank vinyl. Slowly, it began carving into the surface, writing our song into the wax. Technically, the stylus was etching grooves by drawing amplitudes and frequencies. But from where I stood, this machine was sculpting music. The purpose of an acetate is to create a sonically perfect master copy, which is then electroplated and turned into a “stamp” to press the audio onto more vinyl, which gets slipped into sleeves and shipped to stores. Watching the lathe do its thing, my mind drifted to the engineer who performed this task for “Le Freak,” producing a master disc that would go on to birth millions of replicas. And how, one day in 1978, a DJ like Black Passions Inc. walked into Sounds, bought his copy, and spread its magic across nightclubs, block parties, cookouts, and roller rinks throughout the city. Then, in 1994, I bought his old copy off a street vendor on West Fourth Street and spun this disco classic across New York City a thousand more times. The sacred magic of “Le Freak” belonged to Chic, but its gospel was spread by DJs like us. The lathe was a mint, printing joy and ecstasy. The engineer printed up a label, slapped it on the disc, and sent me on my way.