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BUY THE CD
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Every once in a
while, I’ll hear an old song on the radio, and it’ll remind me of an old album that I
once played over and over and over—and then I’ll resurrect that album and once again play
it over and over and over. Recently, that song was Blind Melon’s “No Rain”—and that
album was the band’s self-titled debut.
I remember when I bought the
CD—I’d heard “No Rain” a million times on the radio, and I still liked it. But part of
me just assumed that “No Rain” would be the only good song on the album. So I bought it
at a used CD store just to be safe—but I later realized that it would have been worth
every penny of the full price.
Blind Melon is, in my opinion, one
of the most underrated albums of the 90s. At a time when everyone (like me) was
listening to heavier albums like Pearl Jam’s Ten and Nirvana’s Nevermind
(both of which came out a year earlier, in 1991), Blind Melon was Alternative
Light. It’s the kind of stuff they probably played in grocery stores and elevators in
Seattle. Blind Melon’s music still has the occasional grunge edge to it—enough to keep
the kids in their flannel shirts and combat boots (once again...me) happy—but it’s also
got a little something different. It mixes in a groovy hippie feel—and sometimes even a
touch of bluegrassy mandolin—to make the music danceable (as opposed to mosh-able). And
while the lyrics carry the same old Gen-X disillusionment and angst (“Why am I even
here?” ... ”Nobody here really understands me.”), they still manage to have a positive
spin—and they’re still just as powerful now as they were when the album first came out.
(As an added bonus, unlike many of the songs at the time, Blind Melon’s lyrics are
usually clear enough that you can actually understand them and sing along in your best
impersonation of Shannon Hoon’s high, raspy voice.)
Blind Melon has
aged tremendously well—it was great in 1992, and it’s just as great today. If you don’t
already have a copy of this album in your collection, you should.
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