Traces of nostalgia for the 90s is distinctly evident in my generation, ranging from the poor to the successful. By no forced admission, the past decade was truly dismal, and a break for reminiscence seems entirely understandable. The rise of terrorism and economic uncertainty has darkened our time, casting a shadow over a generation enduring the realities of adulthood. The world back then, as is always the case, didn’t seem so unoriginal, bland and dire. The innocence of adolescence truly grabs hold of the heart, and thrums the corded memories of better times where one, like the mythical Atlas, need not bear the entire weight of the world.

There is something missing nowadays that was prevalent in past generations. Pinpointing the cause in attitudinal changes can be difficult and the secret ingredient that once fulfilled the preferences and tastes for previous generations is an enigma. It seems clear enough, though, that the 90s culture was similar to the rebellious nature of the 60s. Perhaps it was a failed rebellion, or, more precisely, a squandered chance. One need only examine the culture of revolution spurred on, and epitomized, by the music of those days.

The songs of the 90s contained a powerful revolutionary fervor — even if the nature and form of the revolution had little context or purpose. The music from the 90s, at times, was catchy and uplifting, a shift from the depressing music capped off by Kurt Cobain’s death. The assumed character was one of rebellion, perhaps just for the sake of rebelling — like a teenager clawing for independence. Though, the grunginess was retained in some respects, despite our loss of Cobain.

The scope was broad, but the 90s culture expressed a distaste of all things “conformist,” much like the stereotypical hipsters of the 60s. Where the bands of the 90s had no purpose — their “rebellion” falling upon deaf ears — the turn of the century gave their fervor context.

Take for instance Sum 41’s “Fat Lip.” released in 2001, which expresses the nonconformist tone of the 90s kids:

I don’t want to waste my time

Become another casualty of society

I’ll never fall in line

Become another victim of your conformity

And back down.

The creation of songs such as “Fat Lip” shows maturity, rather than immaturity. The tone signals a change in attitude, and by their entrance into adulthood, the 90s bands had inherited the principles of the 60s bands — this time with purpose. The Flaming Lips song “The W.A.N.D” — W.A.N.D. stands for “Will Always Negates Defeat” — exemplifies this change in attitude. The song, released in 2004, is an outcry against the U.S. invasion of Iraq, which parallels the quagmire of Vietnam. The lyrics attempt to incite the same fervor of 60s, an ode possibly to the bands opposing the Vietnam War and advocating for civil rights — Credence Clearwater Revival, Bob Dylan, et cetera:

They’ve got their weapons to solve all their questions; they don’t know what it’s for

(Cause they don’t know what it’s for)

Why can’t they see it’s not power, just greed, to just want more and more?

(Just want more and more)

I got a plan and it’s here in my hand but it’s all made of rights

We’re the enforcers, the sorcerer’s orphans, and we know why we fight

(And we know why we fight)

Not only were these songs nonconformist but also politically charged — a dying freedom that has been slowly taken away from songwriters by the music industry. There were exceptions, though. Green Day’s “American Idiot” and “Know Your Enemy” certainly advanced the same narrative while still retaining the flows of success. Many of Green Day’s lyrics played off of the thematic propagandizing of the Iraq War, such as “weapons of mass destruction.” For example: “Now everybody do the propaganda. And sing along to the age of paranoia.”

Always lurking in the backdrop was the rise of feel good “mainstream music,” which is characterized by overused themes and tones, all mirrors of each other. Political artistry fell from the forefront of songwriting in exchange for the bland and numbing effect of poppy mainstream music. Perhaps the popularity of “Same Love” by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis, a song advocating for marriage rights, usurps this claim.

It isn’t that all mainstream songs are necessarily bad, but they don’t quite measure up to the higher ideals and greatness of past music artists. While it may be true that “mainstream music” has always existed, its domination of the airwaves is more prevalent now than ever. Yet, pockets of my generation resist absorption into the redundancy, and reject spoon-fed unoriginality.

What happened to singing about the fight of the common man? What about truly complex and beautiful music that emphasizes all human emotions and the struggle against mortality? Musical sublime is absent from popular music nowadays — a sublime that is not reserved strictly for orchestral music. Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd created wonderfully complex and sublime music. My generation doesn’t get to experience any of that.

Maybe “Royals” by Lorde is the best rejection of adherence to what types of music presently sells. Here is a song that I hope has punctured the musical inclinations of avid listeners and songwriters alike. Her nonconformist attitude stands in direct contrast to all those mainstream hucksters who ruined the “revolution” for us: “That kind of lux just ain’t for us, we crave a different kind of buzz”

Music, and other forms of art, defines the soul of generations. It represents disappearing and reappearing sentiments, all rising and converging on human perfection. If we have forever lost that ideal, we have forever lost ourselves. Or maybe I’ve succumbed to the disease of nostalgia after all.