I was twelve when the 90s ended. Old enough to remember the last gasps of grunge on MTV, young enough that my strongest musical memory was the Digimon theme song. Rick, on the other hand, had been seventeen in 1990. He’d lived it: flannel from Goodwill, Doc Martens held together with safety pins, a mixtape collection that required its own shelving unit.
“So,” I said. “Did you ever make a 2000s list?” top hundred songs of the 90s
– “The song every outsider needed. Radiohead hated it. So did we, at first. Then we realized: that was the point.” I was twelve when the 90s ended