Avidly, Avidly (2000)

Now that the Jays are quietly and methodically fading from contention in the A.L. East--fitting for a team that more or less faded into contention accidentally--Toronto fans can turn their attention to three individual stories that have been taking shape all year:

1) Tony Batista's attempt to become the first third baseman ever to hit 50 HR. (Possible but unlikely--after a year-plus of a credible Mike Schmidt imitation, Tony finally seems to be slowing down.)

2) David Wells over Pedro Martinez for the Cy Young. (A longshot at the All-Star break, now a dead issue--Pedro has two months to get the 5 or 6 wins that would make him a lock no matter what Wells does.)

3) Carlos Delgado's pursuit of the first Triple Crown since Yastrzemski's in 1967. It took 36 years for somebody to break Maris's home run record; unless there's a Triple Crown winner in the next four seasons, Yaz's milestone will have stood up longer than Maris's.

I'm surprised--compared to something like DiMaggio's streak or Williams's .400 season, a Triple Crown seems relatively manageable. I can't see anybody, under any circumstances (offensive boom year, playing in Coors Field, etc.), hitting in 57 straight games. There's just not enough margin of error--essentially there's none, which is why, 60 years later, nobody's even gotten within 80% of DiMaggio's mark. In abbreviated seasons, George Brett (extended injury) and Tony Gwynn (strike) got about 98% of the way to .400, so that does seem like something that will happen one of these years. But even there, there's not the luxury of a lot of down-time. Delgado, for instance, recently went over two weeks without a home run, but having built up a comfortable lead beforehand, he's still tied for the league lead. A serious two-week slump for somebody chasing .400 (5 for 40, say) would pretty much kill his chances. So even though winning a Triple Crown is something of a juggling act, you can drop one of the balls for a couple of weeks and still recover, especially if nobody else comes along and picks it up while you're not looking (much like nobody went on a home run tear during Delgado's slump).

In any case, Carlos is in the running. To go along with the home run lead, his .368 BA (complete through Aug. 8) leaves him second behind Garciaparra's .386, and his 101 RBI are similarly tied for second behind Edgar Martinez's 107. He should win HR: Griffey's gone, Gonzalez's year is a write-off, and the one guy I'd normally count as even-money to keep up with Carlos, Manny Ramirez, simply lost too much time on the DL. Glaus or Giambi? Maybe, but Delgado is clearly the league's premier home-run hitter right now. Taking the RBI title will be tougher, BA tougher still (where Garciaparra's DL time will work to his advantage). But absolutely, he's still very much in the picture.

By my count, there have been 16 players since '67 who made a legitimate run at a Triple Crown. (Fifteen--Barry Bonds did it twice.) It's an arbitrary call, but "legitimate" for me counts as having finished with no less than 90% of the league-leading mark in all three Triple Crown categories. That's the minimum requirement, but in actual fact, 13 of the 16 players led the league in at least one of the three categories, while seven of the 16--almost half--led in two. Having narrowed the field to 16, I then used the following formula to assign each player an overall "Triple Crown Index" (or, in the parlance of Bachman-Turner Overdrive, "TCI"):

[(BA/BA leader)-squared + (HR/HR leader)-squared + (RBI/RBI leader)-squared]/3

I squared each percentage in order to knock down stragglers in any one category. If you lead the league in something, you get a 1.00 for that category: Delgado scores (33/33) x (33/33) in home runs this year, or 1.00. Yastrzemski's '67 seasons works out like this:

[(.326/.326)(.326/.326) + (44/44)(44/44) + (121/121)(121/121)]/3 = 1.00

In other words, a Triple Crown.

The top 16 since Yaz, plus Delgado:

	BA	HR	RBI	TCI
D. Allen, '72	0.969	1.000	1.000	0.979
G. Foster, '77	0.947	1.000	1.000	0.965
J. Rice, '78	0.946	1.000	1.000	0.965
M. Schmidt, '81	0.927	1.000	1.000	0.953
D. Bichette, '95	0.924	1.000	1.000	0.951
W. McCovey, '69	0.920	1.000	1.000	0.949
L. Walker, '97	0.984	1.000	0.929	0.943
B. Bonds, '93	0.908	1.000	1.000	0.942
B. Williams, '72	1.000	0.925	0.976	0.936
C. DELGADO, '00	0.953	1.000	0.944	0.933
F. Howard, '68	0.910	1.000	0.972	0.925
G. Sheffield, '92	1.000	0.943	0.917	0.910
B. Bonds, '92	0.942	0.971	0.945	0.908
J. Bagwell, '94	0.934	0.907	1.000	0.898
D. Murphy, '83	0.935	0.900	1.000	0.895
F. Thomas, '94	0.983	0.950	0.902	0.894
A. Belle, '94	0.994	0.900	0.902	0.871

I initially drew up a list based on highest TCI only, but a number of players qualified who won the home run and RBI titles without really coming at all close to the batting crown: Killebrew in '69, Stargell and Jackson in '73, Canseco in '88, and a half-dozen others. In 1973, when Reggie hit .293 to Carew's .350, he fell 31 hits short of a Triple Crown; even though his TCI of 0.900 places him ahead of Bagwell, Thomas, and Belle in '94, realistically he was much farther away from the mark than the latter group.

Securing a batting title is obviously the major stumbling block to winning a Triple Crown. Ten of the 16 players on the above chart (Delgado excluded) finished first in home runs, nine of 16 won RBI, and seven of 16 took both categories. By contrast, only Williams and Sheffield won batting titles. This should not be surprising. In any given year, there are always hitters who are primarily thought of as power guys hanging around the fringes of the batting race, with one or two of them invariably right in the middle; you'll never see players who are first and foremost high-average hitters on the home-run leaderboard. When Boggs opened everybody's eyes with 24 home runs in 1987, he wasn't even halfway to leading the league.

A serious Triple Crown run does, absent any extenuating circumstances, seem to be a guarantee on winning the MVP. Eleven of the players above were MVPs, and four of the five non-winners can be easily explained: Sheffield and Belle lost to rival Triple Crown contenders (Bonds and Thomas), Howard was up against Denny McLain's 31 wins, and the voters were smart enough to realize that Bichette's big season (unlike Walker's '97) was an almost comical Coors Field illusion--.377, 31 HR, 83 RBI, .755 SA at home; .300/9/45/.473 on the road--giving the award to Barry Larkin instead. (I would have voted for Piazza.) Williams lost to Bench in '72, an arguable but reasonable pick. Bench led the league in HR and RBI; he hit .270 when .270 meant something for a catcher; he won a Gold Glove and Williams didn't; the Reds won and the Cubs didn't; and Williams did half his hitting in Wrigley Field, the Coors Field of its day. Incidentally, Williams is the only guy on the above list who technically came within three hits of winning a Triple Crown (Allen needed five), albeit three solo home runs.

So I'm confident that Delgado will be the American League MVP this year. Pedro Martinez, whose season may turn out to be as historic in its way as McLain's '68, is the most credible competition I see, but with Ivan Rodriguez out and Pedro/Nomar, A-Rod/Edgar, and Thomas/Ordonez up against vote- splitting, I think Carlos will win. A Triple Crown, I don't know. He's got a chance--maybe the best since Allen and Williams in '72.

Mailer, Christgau, and Me (1999 - 2006)

I'll put links to the 11 (or 12) pieces I did for the Village Voice here; all of them were during Chuck Eddy's tenure as editor. I thought for a few minutes that I wouldn't be able to retrieve them; if you go directly to the Voice's web page--still online, still being updated (a long, impossibly messy story that stopped making sense to me years ago)--their archives only go back to 2005 when you search. So all my name turns up is a few Pazz & Jop comments. But if you do a Google search on "phil dellio village voice," you get this:

https://www.villagevoice.com/author/phildellio/

Which in turns leads you to workable links for the 11 published pieces I did for them, plus one lengthier Pazz & Jop comment on 50 Cent & Mobb Deep's "Outta Control." At some point these will disappear too, so I made sure to save the text for everything, to be cut-and-paste here when that happens. Unless I disappear first.

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Sugar Ray: https://www.villagevoice.com/sugar-ray/

Third Eye Blind: https://www.villagevoice.com/semi-charmed-second-life/

Pop Music in Movies: https://www.villagevoice.com/freeze-frame/

Matchbox 20: https://www.villagevoice.com/pushin-less-hard/

Tragically Hip: https://www.villagevoice.com/wheatfield-gnosticism/

Madonna: https://www.villagevoice.com/act-of-contrition/

Treble Charger: https://www.villagevoice.com/brand-new-record/

Blink 182: https://www.villagevoice.com/whats-my-age-again/

Alanis Morissette: https://www.villagevoice.com/thesaurus-in-my-pocket/

Nashville covers: https://www.villagevoice.com/replacement-party-tonight/

George Harrison: https://www.villagevoice.com/shiva-shiva-yall/

50 Cent/Mobb Deep: https://www.villagevoice.com/boxing-day/

Say Hey (2000)

When I sent a copy of my All-Century ballot to a friend in California last year (complete ballot below), he sent it back with a few notes scribbled down. Next to Alex Rodriguez, my one write-in vote: "Same here, gut pick." Roy Campanella: "No no no. Unless you're counting his Negro League years." (Picking another catcher besides Bench was tough. I wanted to use my only write-in spot for Rodriguez, so that ruled out Piazza or Pudge, both of whom were inexplicably left off the regular ballot. All things being equal, which they weren't when Campanella broke in at the advanced age of 26, Campanella's peak value looks a little better to me than Berra's.) Ted Williams's name was x-ed out: "Can't run, can't catch, can't throw. Not on my fucking team. Bad for morale." (I think the adjective is a reference to Williams's standard batting-cage patter as documented in Ball Four. My friend's objections, and his preference for Musial, are similar to those voiced by Bill James. I don't know: a .634 lifetime slugging average buys a lot of selfishness.) And next to Griffey, "Easy over Mays at this point." I voted for both.

So how does Ken Griffey compare to Willie Mays at this point in their careers? Griffey is about to begin his 12th season; Mays sat out half the '52 season and all of '53 for military service, so a comparable time frame for him covers 1951-1962 (with Mays's half-year cancelled out by Griffey's injury-shortened '95). Through 11 seasons, their at-bats (5,862 for Mays, 5,832 for Griffey) and AB + BB (Mays had 6,586 to Griffey's 6,579) are almost dead even.

In terms of unadjusted numbers, Mays is running ahead in most key categories:

	AB	H	2B	3B	HR	TB	BB	BA	SA	OBP	RC/27
Mays	5862	1846	302	99	368	3450	724	.315	.589	.390	8.55
Junior	5832	1742	320	30	398	3316	747	.299	.569	.378	7.82

Mays has a slight edge in batting average, slugging average, and on-base percentage, and he creates about 10% more runs per 27 outs (non-stolen base version). Griffey's leading in home runs and home runs per 100 AB by a similar margin. I haven't included their more team-influenced Runs and RBI totals, but if you add the two categories together, it's again a virtual tie (2,219 to 2,215 in favor of Mays).

Those are the raw totals and averages. Once you adjust against league-wide offensive levels, Mays starts to establish clear superiority. While the '50s was by and large a hitter's decade--"get people on base and hit home runs," as characterized by James--obviously the seven-year offensive bonanza that got underway in '93 (during which time Griffey has hit about 80% of his career home runs, mirroring league trends every step of the way) has its only parallel in the early '30s, and maybe not even there. Here are the respective league averages for Mays's and Griffey's first 11 seasons:

	HR/100 AB	BA	SA	OBP	RC/27
N.L., 1951-62*	2.67	.259	.357	.325	4.44
A.L., 1989-99	2.87	.267	.414	.335	4.84

*('53 excepted)

The differences aren't huge (slugging average is getting there), but across the board, Griffey's numbers have been put up in an era of historically inflated offense. When each player is measured against his league, Mays looks even better:

	HR/100 AB	BA	SA	OBP	RC/27
Mays	+135.3%	+21.5%	+48.2%	+20.2%	+92.6%
Junior	+138.4%	+11.7%	+37.2%	+12.8%	+61.7%

Mays almost pulls even in home run percentage, and in the other categories he widens the gap. Whatever degree of dominance you attribute to Griffey today, Mays was even more dominant.

Other considerations:

1) SPEED -- I don't use James's slightly more complicated stolen-base version when calculating runs created per 27 outs for the sole reason that I'm lazy. Mays had stolen 240 bases through 1962, with a success rate of 76%; Griffey is currently 167 for 227, a 74% rate. Call it even if you want, based on the assumption that Griffey's totals would be comparable if he felt the need to run (the DiMaggio argument), but it's hard not to go with Mays.

2) DEFENSE-- Gold Gloves were first awarded in 1957: Mays proceeded to win six out of six through '62, including the only one awarded to an N.L. out- fielder in '57 (the A.L. gave out the normal three that year). Griffey has won 10 of 11, missing out only in his rookie year. In Palmer and Thorn's Total Baseball, Griffey is credited with 83 "fielding runs" through 1998 (I don't have figures for '99); through Mays's first 10 seasons, he gets credit for 126. I don't have the slightest clue how to calculate fielding runs, or how significant Mays's lead is; by way of comparison, Clemente totalled 99 fielding runs through his first 10 seasons. In any case, the evidence is again on the side of Mays. And if you love the Vic Wertz clip as much as I do, so is romance.

3) MVP HISTORY -- Mays won once (and would win again in '65), so has Griffey. Calculating total votes as a percentage of votes cast (what James calls "MVP share"), Mays had received a 4.19% share through '62, while Griffey stands at 3.20% thus far. With the player pool much larger now, basically this one's a wash.

4) TEAM SUCCESS -- In an eight-team league, the Giants won the Series in '54, the pennant in '51 (with Willie in the on-deck circle when the world stood still) and '62. In a 14-team league, the Mariners won divisional titles in '95 and '97. However you weight the points, edge to Mays.

5) NICKNAME -- "Junior"'s plain but good; "The Say Hey Kid" is a work of art, and it also inspired one of my e-mail addresses.

With numbers being easy to juggle around until they say what you want them to say, I know that someone could put together a credible case for Griffey. (Just as a league-weighted case could be made for Grove over Koufax, Yount over Rodriguez, or other configurations different than my own.) Again, I voted for both of them. But I don't think you can make any kind of a case that Griffey is the clear or obvious choice. By the time he retires, maybe. Mays only had four really first-rate seasons left after '62 (including '65, one of his greatest), at which point age and the offensive free-fall of the late '60s caught up with him. Hopefully Griffey will be retired with the home-run record before he experiences anything similar to Mays's inglorious exit with the Mets at the age of 42. For now, though, I'd take Mays.

My All-Century Ballot (starters listed first):

Catcher: Bench, Campanella

First Base: Gehrig, McGwire

Second Base: Robinson, Hornsby

Third Base: Schmidt, Brett

Shortstop: Wagner, Rodriguez

Outfield: Ruth, Mays, Williams, DiMaggio, Musial, Mantle, Henderson, Bonds, Griffey

Pitcher: Maddux (RHP), Koufax (LHP), Johnson, Mathewson, Grove, Clemens

Manager: Stengel

Mascot: Joe Schultz

Okay, Fine, Never Mind (Best of the '90s) (2000)

Here's my '90s list, plus lists from a couple of friends. I haven't written any comments--many of these songs I've already written about twice, first in Radio On and then again as part of various year-end polls. Trying to think of something a little bit different the second time was hard enough.

1990 was a write-off for me, but I've voted in year-ends every year since. Twenty-eight of the songs listed below are right from my yearly Top 10s, including "Beautiful Stranger" and "We Like to Party!", which will sit 1-2 on this year's list when I draw it up sometime next week. Only half of my previous #1s made the final 40: I'm still able to hear "Fantastic Voyage," "Doo Wop (That Thing)," "People Everyday," and "Moby Octopad" almost as if for the first time, but "Let's Talk About Sex," "Man on the Moon," "Be Happy" and "Peaches" I used up. "Reality Used to Be a Friend of Mine," my #1 for the decade, I didn't discover until three or four years ago--I'm not even sure that it was released as a single anywhere. Other songs I either underrated or overlooked the first time around: "O.P.P." (I guessed in Radio On that "Let's Talk About Sex" would outlast it--as predictions go, not within the acceptable margin of error), "Come Rain Come Shine," "Even Grable." Mostly, though, whatever made an impression on me at the time still sounds better than everything that didn't. I have changed my mind about Joe Carter (won't make the Hall of Fame), Al Hunt of The Capital Gang (truly annoying), and the librarian at the New Toronto branch who used to give me a hard time. She's really OK.

1. "Reality Used to Be a Friend of Mine," P.M. Dawn (1991)

2. "Jump Around," House of Pain (1992)

3. "Summertime," D.J. Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince (1991)

4. "Let's Get Down," Tony! Toni! Toné! (1996)

5. "Right Here (Human Nature)," SWV (1993)

6. "O.P.P.," Naughty by Nature (1991)

7. "Self Esteem," Offspring (1994)

8. "Freak Like Me," Adina Howard (1995)

9. "Walking Contradiction," Green Day (1996)

10. "Fantastic Voyage," Coolio (1994)

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"Beautiful Stranger," Madonna (1999)

"Come Rain Come Shine," Clubland (1992)

"Cut Your Hair," Pavement (1994)

"Divorce Song," Liz Phair (1993)

"Deeply Dippy," Right Said Fred (1992)

"Doo Wop (That Thing)," Lauryn Hill (1998)

"Do You Wanna Get Funky," C & C Music Factory (1994)

"The Emperor's New Clothes," Sinead O'Connor (1990)

"Even Grable," Treble Charger (1995)

"Fireworks," Tragically Hip (1998)

"Flagpole Sitta," Harvey Danger (1998)

"Gin and Juice," Snoop Doggy Dogg (1994)

"Got You (Where I Want You)," Flys (1998)

"Graduate," Third Eye Blind (1997)

"I Can't Make You Love Me," Bonnie Raitt (1991)

"Insane in the Brain," Cypress Hill (1993)

"Jump," Kris Kross (1991)

"Moby Octopad," Yo La Tengo (1997)

"No Deeper Meaning," Culture Beat (1991)

"No Rain," Blind Melon (1993)

"Nothing Has Been Proved," the Strings of Love (1990)

"Nuthin' But a 'G' Thang," Dr. Dre (1993)

"Only Love Can Break Your Heart," St. Etienne (1992)

"Pay No Mind," Beck (1994)

"People Everyday," Arrested Development (1992)

"Pretty Noose," Soundgarden (1996)

"Two Steps Behind," Def Leppard (1993)

"Violet," Hole (1995)

"We Like to Party!" Vengaboys (1999)

"Wonderwall," Oasis (1996)

-------------------

Chris Buck:  Favourites of the '90s

Neutral Milk Hotel: In the Aeorplane over the Sea (1998)

Smog: Red Apple Falls (1997)

American Music Club: San Francisco (1994)

Guided By Voices: Bee Thousand (1994)

Rollerskate Skinny: Horsedrawn Wishes (1996)

Ben Folds Five: Whatever & Ever Amen (1997)

Hole: Live Through This (1994)

My Bloody Valentine: Loveless (1991)

They Might Be Giants: Flood (1990)

Guns N' Roses: Use Your Illusion (1991)

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Scott Woods:  Top 100 Singles of the '90s

This list reflects nothing so much as it reflects my employment situation in the '90s: first as a Top 40/alternative/dance DJ (1990-95), second as an employee in a very large record store (1993-present). I spent very little time in the '90s a) seeking out music (it all just seemed to find me at work), and b) listening to music at home (there wasn’t a lot of need to do so--I heard enough of it every day anyway).

The only rule I followed in compiling this list was the one-song-per-artist rule, which I didn’t actually follow: Daft Punk = Stardust, surely. That one glitch aside, a perfectly honest Top 100 might have included one (in some cases two) more by Madonna ("Ray of Light"), Oasis ("Supersonic," "What’s the Story Morning Glory"), Beck ("Loser," "Jackass"), Sonic Youth ("Kool Thing"), Hole ("Awful," "Rock Star"), the Cranberries ("Dreams," "Salvation"), Nirvana ("Heart-Shaped Box"), the Pet Shop Boys ("Being Boring," "Where the Streets Have No Name"), Stone Temple Pilots (“Vasoline"), and Treble Charger ("Red"). Instead, I copped out to affirmative action in order to make way for White Town, Semisonic, BKS, and Third Eye Blind.

1. "Right Here (Human Nature)," SWV (1992) -- Floating on a sample of one of Michael Jackson’s prettiest riffs ever, it’s only because they weren’t British, they weren’t white, and they didn’t make lethargic stoner music that nobody thought to call them "dream pop," though that’s exactly what this is.
2. "Wonderwall," Oasis (1996)
3. "O.P.P.," Naughty By Nature (1991) -- Michael Jackson’s second finest moment of the '90s.
4. "People Everyday," Arrested Development (1992) -- Rolling on the river.
5. "The Funk Phenomenon," Armand Van Helden (1996) -- cf. "Rockafeller Skank" (#38).
6. "Miss World," Hole (1995) -- Stevie Nicks and Exene Cervenka are obvious touchstones, but it’s not a stretch to imagine Dylan in one of his incendiary mid-60s shows, eyes receding into his head, taking on the verses: "I’m...miss...world..."
7. "Beautiful Stranger," Madonna (1999)
8. "Even Grable," Treble Charger (1996)
9. "Flagpole Sitta," Harvey Danger (1998)
10. "Hyper-Ballad," Bjork (1995) -- It’s all about the hi-hats.
..............................................................................
11. "Da Funk," Daft Punk (1996) -- It’s all about the bass, which happens to be "Good Times" sawed down to a single note.
12. "Justified and Ancient," KLF (1992) -- Token country pick.
13. "Common People," Pulp (1995) -- Fop goes the world.
14. "Linger," Cranberries (1993) -- Unless my memory fails me--I saw the thing
 once, about five years ago--the video is a tribute to Kenneth Anger: a dreamy whisper of a tune on the soundtrack, a motorbike and some black leather on the screen. (Whether or not that’s the actual scenario for this video, that’s the image implanted in my head.)
15. "I Wouldn’t Normally Do This Kind of Thing," Pet Shop Boys (1993) -- Ray Davies, London '66.
16. "Impatience," Fastbacks (1991)
17. "Looking Through Patient Eyes," P.M. Dawn (1993) -- Floating on a sample of one of George Michael’s prettiest riffs ever, it’s only because they weren’t British, they weren’t white, and they didn’t make lethargic stoner music that nobody thought to call them "dream pop," though that’s exactly what this is. (Actually, they did a pretty good job at the lethargic stoner music part.)
18. "Summertime," D.J. Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince (1991)
19. "Only Love Can Break Your Heart," Saint Etienne (1992)
20. "Music Sounds Better With You," Stardust (1998)
21. "Doo Wop (That Thing)," Lauryn Hill (1998)
22. "Gin and Juice," Snoop Doggy Dogg (1993) -- Lethargic stoner music.
23. "In a Room," Dodgy (1997) -- Pop art.
24. "Song 2," Blur (1997) -- Songs mean a lot when songs are bought.
25. "Nobody’s Fault," Beck (1999)
26. "Missing," Everything But the Girl (1994)
27. "Cut Your Hair," Pavement (1994)
28. "The Emperor’s New Clothes," Sinead O’Connor (1990) -- Amazing what you can accomplish over two chords (C and F as far as I can tell).
29. "Anna," Pure (1996) -- Suede, but harder and cheaper.
30. "Life in Mono," Mono (1998)
31. "Naked Eye," Luscious Jackson (1996) -- Rarely has a band with so little done so much with what they don’t have.
32. "Something Good," Utah Saints (1992)
33. "Universal Heartbeat," Juliana Hatfield (1995) -- Dear Kurt: "Beauty can be sad/You’re the proof of that."
34. "Superstar," Sonic Youth (1994) -- If anything can sum up Wild Palms, my favourite '90s movie, in five words or less, it’s "but you’re not really there."
35. "Bittersweet Symphony," Verve (1997)
36. "Pretty Noose," Soundgarden (1996)
37. "In Bloom," Nirvana (1991)
38. "Rockafeller Skank," Fatboy Slim (1998) -- cf. "Tubthumping" (#78).
39. "Where You Are," Sleater-Kinney (1995)
40. "Mr. Vain," Culture Beat (1993)
41. "Jump Around," House of Pain (1992)
42. "You Got Me," Roots w/Erykah Badu (1999)
43. "Buddy Holly," Weezer (1994) -- Be true to your school.
44. "Too Funky," George Michael (1992)
45. "Brimful of Asha," Cornershop (1997) -- Rolling on the river, blasting “Save It For Later."
46. "Use a Sua Caneca," Money Mark (1996)
47. "All That She Wants," Ace of Base (1993) -- For the word 'day' in "it's a day for passing time."
48. "Groove Is in the Heart," Deee-Lite (1990)
49. "Moby Octopad," Yo La Tengo (1997) -- How bizarre.
50. "Self-Esteem," Offspring (1994)
51. "Another Night," MC Sar & the Real McCoy (1994)
52. "Fireworks," Tragically Hip (1998)
53. "Right Here Right Now," Jesus Jones (1990)
54. "Oh Carolina," Shaggy (1993) -- First three seconds always fool me into thinking I’m hearing "Old Time Rock 'n Roll" again, when in fact I'm merely hearing old time rock 'n roll.
55. "Mesmerizing," Liz Phair (1994) -- She’s a sweet white angel/not a riot grrrl.
56. "Big Bang Baby," Stone Temple Pilots (1996) -- Earth, Wind, and Fire to Pearl Jam’s Funkadelic: trendier, sillier, more crass, less original, and a hell of a lot catchier.
57. "Fantastic Voyage," Coolio (1994)
58. "No Rain," Blind Melon (1993)
59. "Cannonball," Breeders (1993) -- Hip-hop: violent and scratchy.
60. "Rhythm Is a Dancer," Snap (1992)
61. "Turn Around," Phatts & Small (1999)
62. "Kelly’s Heroes," Black Grape (1995)
63. "Two Princes," Spin Doctors (1991)
64. "Dress," PJ Harvey (1992)
65. "Show Me Love," Robin S (1993)
66. "Connection," Elastica (1995)
67. "Pets," Porno For Pyros (1993)
68. "Ordinary World," Duran Duran (1993)
69. "You Get What You Give" New Radicals (1998)
70. "Lump," Presidents of the United States of America (1995)
71. "Hippychick," Soho (1990)
72. "Semi-Charmed Life," Third Eye Blind (1997)
73. "Headache," Frank Black (1994) -- Jeff Lynne nursing a hangover.
74. "Born Slippy," Underworld (1996) -- Token rave anthem.
75. "Bills, Bills, Bills," Destiny’s Child (1999) -- Fierce, skittish, machine-washable R&B.
76. "I Want You," Savage Garden (1997) -- Token pretty-boy pop.
77. "Feels So Good," Lina Santiago (1997) -- Token freestyle anthem.
78. "Tubthumping," Chumbawamba (1997) -- cf. "The Funk Phenomenon" (#5).
79. "How Bizarre," OMC (1997)
80. "Informer," Snow (1992) -- Token Canadian dancehall.
81. "Ice Ice Baby," Vanilla Ice (1990)
82. "Chorus," Erasure (1991) -- Eco-disco.
83. "Wannabe," Spice Girls (1997)
84. "Closing Time," Semisonic (1998)
85. "Even Better Than the Real Thing," U2 (1991)
86. "Can’t Let Go," Mariah Carey (1992) -- Airy and delicate.
87. "Glycerine," Bush (1994) -- "I’m never alone/I’m alone all the time" must shoot straight into the heart of every teenager who’s heard it.
88. "Return of the Mack," Mark Morrison (1997) -- In the very least the return of Larry Blackmon.
89. "My Lovin'(You’re Never Gonna Get It)," En Vogue (1992) -- Mmmbop.
90. "If It Makes You Happy," Sheryl Crow (1996)
91. "(Everything I Do) I Do It for You," Bryan Adams (1991)
92. "Too Close," Next (1998) -- Late Jack Swing.
93. "Cassius 99," Cassius (1999)
94. "Cold Feelings," Social Distortion (1992)
95. "Rendez-Vu," Basement Jaxx (1999) -- Santa Esmeralda is coming to town--or, Ricky Martin, eat your corculum out. The Latin/Rock/Bossa-Fever scorcher of '99 by two guys I’m tempted to call the Rolling Stones of disco (but don’t have the space here to explain) (nor the explanation, come to think of it).
96. "I’m in Love With You," BKS (1992)
97. "Your Woman," White Town (1997)
98. "Midnight in a Perfect World," DJ Shadow (1997) -- Moments in love.
99. "Protection," Massive Attack (1996)
100. "Roam," B52’s (1990)

Top 10 Albums of the '90s

1. Pet Shop Boys: Very (1993)

2. Oasis: (What’s the Story) Morning Glory (1995)

3. My Bloody Valentine: Loveless (1991)

4. Daft Punk: Homework (1997)

5. Dj Shadow: Endtroducing (1996)

6. P.M. Dawn: The Bliss Album...? (1993)

7. Sleater-Kinney: Call the Doctor (1996)

8. Hole: Live Through This (1994)

9. Bjork: Post (1995)

10. Destiny’s Child: The Writing’s on the Wall (1999)