I am currently writing my ’90s rock memoir, centered on the decade that defined me and my generation: 1991-2001.This winter has been a deep dive into music, which I’ve built the majority of my life around. From my childhood music education in Montreal to playing bass in ’90s rock bands to founding Basilica Hudson on our love of music upheld within our annual music festivals, SoundScape and 24-HR DRONE. Although my writing and memories have been dancing in the ’90s, most of my listening has been in the decade leading up to it, the one that captured my musical heart.
The ’80s cornerstones of great inspiration are on constant rotation: the Smiths, the Cure, and Depeche Mode. (Important note: I had the privilege of seeing the latter two live in concert twice in 2023!) You really can’t go wrong with any of them, but my recommended albums are the Smiths Hat Full of Hollow and Strangeways Here We Come; the Cure Head on the Door and Disintegration; and Depeche Mode Music for the Masses and Catching Up with Depeche Mode. These songs bring me back to my deepest coming of age, and the melancholic, androgynous romance that overpowered me. With my phone strangely tapped into my listening algorithms, this popped into a random social media feed not long ago:
The Smiths saw the cruelty of life and found the humor in it.
The Cure saw the cruelty of life and found the beauty in it.
Depeche Mode saw the cruelty of life and found themselves strangely aroused.
The listening continues to be a remedy to the cruelty of life. Humor. Beauty. Arousal. Highly recommended.
This article appears in March 2024.
