Something Is Forming (TOTR 488)

 

-originally aired on WTTU 88.5 FM The Nest on Saturday, February 15, 2025

-this episode is the second of a series of shows situated in the 1990s, to coincide with this semester’s “American Mixtape” class

-listen to the audio archive here:
Stream Something Is Forming - TOTR 488 by Teacher On The Radio | Listen online for free on SoundCloud

For a long time, I have known that the 1990s contained multiple missing links in my lineage. I was there, but sometimes I feel like I missed it. I was there, but I wasn’t. Many adventures taken, many more missed.

In an alternate arc of life’s timeline, the hippypunk that was co-organizing DIY urban hardcore shows at the start of the decade & the back-to-the-land hippy who was finishing a Master degree in Literature at the end of the decade, that otherwise crunchy & scruffy one, he might have deviated on another path. 

I didn’t miss everything & was intensely traveling, settling down, studying, playing, working on two literature degrees, & creating magic & messes along the way, including the founding of a rural land experiment (aka commune) that still exists to this day (although I left the land back in 2009). 

I didn’t miss everything & might have ended up in the Mile High Stadium parking lot in Colorado, just to catch a little of the action on Shakedown Street, even if I didn’t have a ticket & didn’t stay for the Grateful Dead show. I might have walked barefoot on Rainbow Gathering trails in Minnesota & New Mexico, dodging the many potential casualties, moral & imaginary of that far-flung & freewheeling life. I tasted the edge

Even as an avid music fan, I missed a lot of music along the way. For the last couple years, I have been obsessed with the versions of the 1990s that I missed & have enjoyed traveling down many meandering tangents. What if I had gone on a permanent hippy tour, ideally as a journalist, but everyone knows back then, there were many ways to get on the bus, some legit, others illegal. I might even smell like patchouli oil, might be wearing a vest without a shirt, baggy pants, & Birkenstocks. 

With the mid-decade untimely & ultimate demise of Jerry Garcia’s visit to this reality, the jammy scene was only just getting started & blowing up, for the true neohippie 90s renaissance. HORDE tour, or “Horizons of Rock Developing Everywhere,” was the unwashed alternative to the grunge & rap on Lollapalooza. Regional scenes sprouted & popped like wonderful weeds across the continent. This playlist & a corresponding radio episode reflects only some of the work I’ve been doing to remember a version of my 1990s that never was.

Blues Traveler - Hook (1994)

This is the hook song to an expansive expression of the specifically end-of-the-century jam rock scene, mingling right close to the similar explosion of alt-rock at that time. In addition to his howling harmonica, vocalist John Popper’s aching vocals, like so many 1990s masculine rock wailings, that vibey voice is the hook that this song called “Hook” really needs. Blues Traveler were one of many that was more out-front for the 1990s jam renaissance, including taking a central role in the HORDE festival (Horizons of Rock Developing Everywhere, 1992-1998). 

Dave Matthews Band - What Would You Say (1994)

I honestly did not believe that there could be a 90s jammy revival playlist with some mention of the legendary DMB. But can I tell you that group always comes with an asterisk, as I don’t understand their appeal as much as some of the other groups from this period & genre? I have always known about DMB, but some of the songs that follow in this playlist are new discoveries (to me) that I will return to again & again. 

Spin Doctors -  Two Princes (1991)

If the neohippies were to merge with alt-rock & be something bigger than the last freaky tours of the Grateful Dead or the emerging Phish scene, they needed some standard-bearers for that torch. Maybe the Spin Doctors were that team, the infectious bite & bump are surely here, all the way down the line. Spin Doctors were one of the flagship groups for the ambitious & wondrous Wetlands Preserve, New York’s decade-defining dose of intentional beauty & utopia for shows & activism.

Ben Harper & the Innocent Criminals - Steal My Kisses (1999) 

I feel like Ben Harper’s perfect voice could bend the universe & then some, vocal iterations touching the thin line between reality & some sacred romantic illusion delusion intrusion. I love songs like this where the jammy things accept gravity & collide into gospel & soul & everything where we feel music in the most embodied way. One of my early Ryman Auditorium shows in the 2000s was a marathon Ben Harper set of over 30 songs & around 3 hours with women shouting marriage proposals & more to the singer from the pews.

Mr. Blotto - Kiss Me in the Morning (1994)

If one song about kissing is good, two will be better. Now it’s time to get into the regional jambands that I probably never would have heard of back then & that I definitely would have never discovered had I not chosen a months-long scavenger hunt into this topic. But once I am there, I am there. Wherever the jammy scene in every city gathers, it gathers. Mr. Blotto are from Chicago, still active, & I cannot imagine them without their dedicated dancers. The way the end of this song soars, acoustic guitars over swelling organ bursts, the cinematic chorus makes me think of my sweetie: I want to kiss her in the morning. 

Jupiter Coyote - Flight of the Lorax (1993)

They had me at the title. They had me at the slinky vibe. Any reference, no matter how fleeting, to a Dr. Seuss character, for the win. Hailing from Macon, Georgia, bands like this must have such crunchy grooves in their very bones. The narrator tells the protagonist to contrast a deep breath of the way it is with the way we think that it oughtta be, before dropping such a nasty groove that the listener can get lost in the flight of the song. Take a deep breath of another southern jam brand. 

Blue Dogs - World Turns A Revolution (1996)

Heading up the highway from Georgia to the Carolinas & then Virginia, here are the Blue Dogs. Beginning as a college band, the Blue Dogs are still kicking it. Their tag-lines describes  themselves as “alt-country roots rock.” One of the joys for me in rediscovering this decade is this: as to where that “roots” niche ends & the expansive jammy space begins is not a fixed or guarded line. No gatekeepers on either side, far as I can grok. For a split-second, the intro is spare, just a maraca & a conga, & we just might be in the primal hippy sphere. Then, the lyrics kick-in with the jam-band-meets-Springsteen lament about the plight of working for “the man.” It’s a solid groove, & the invocation of “revolution” here is honest & aspirational, not naive at all, though that would be fine, too. 

Ominous Seapods - Some Days (1997) 

Another New York jamband, the Ominous Seapods describe themselves as “an americana, bluegrass, blues, country, funk, jam, rock, songwriter group.” This songs drops in the pocket of my being, to take up residence in my chest, propelled to dance by myself down the trail of life. Once I get stitched in the infectious chorus of this song, I am stuck & might be singing it forever. It’s plaintive, addictive, swelling, bursting like the hippy choir must!

Max Creek - Something is Forming (1998)

Going all the way back to 1971 & still active today, Max Creek are “jam band pioneers” & have collaborated with members of the Grateful Dead, Phish, & the Allman Brothers. They are a 90s band insofar as they passed through the 90s as with this glorious track that I can say is about being the thing that it describes, the genesis of new forms, as expansive as this genre of genres, & that includes progressive rock, country, funk, calypso, jazz, reggae, new wave, & blues. This song invokes “the edge of the universe,” & I think that kind of liminal lightning is what pulls folks into this everlasting scene. 

Strangefolk - Valhulla (1997)

The strange folks in Strangefolk hail from the same Burlington, Vermont that brought us the likes of Phish, not to mention Bernie Sanders or Ben & Jerry ice cream. This song’s title conjures a swirling mythic flight & the song itself takes us soaring on some kind of misty journey that feels both internal & eternal. Much of Jesse Jarnow’s aforementioned work functions as a kind of “psychedelic geography,” & it’s no wonder that Burlington is an outpost of grand significance in the Untitled States of Jam.  

Calobo - What Time Is It? (1997)

When I first started crawling around the archives of the 90s scene, I was struck by how many of these spicy sonic stimulants were sparked by midsize towns in the midsouth & midwest, as well as from college campuses. But one of the folkier folk sounds that I found actually heralded from the Pacific Northwest comes from Calobo. Calobo’s contagious & catchy hippy-folk sound offers such a medicinal munch & sunshine crunch that goes slinking through the forest, wildly different compared to the brooding shades of bros in flannel in the decade’s dominant grunge groove (but no shade on those shades). Calobo’s crunch tastes like it is some of the crunchiest, layered in keyboards & multiple vocalists & I love every direct hit from what feels like a decade long dance party.

The Recipe - Drink the Wine (1996)

This is some wild & weird West Virginia folk-rock that called itself “porch music,” foreshadowing how much the downhome vibes of Appalachian bluegrass would be fully integrated into the jam scene by the days of Trampled By Turtles, Greensky Bluegrass, & of course, Billy Strings. 

From Good Homes - Cool Me Down (1995)

This is such a happy hooky song from lifelong New Jersey jammers who identify as combining “rock, jazz, folk, celtic & jam-band influences under one umbrella.” Their bio suggests the group’s name comes from a judge, when they were young & in trouble, but got some leniency based on their backgrounds. Suffice to say, the mild mischief of the jam scene is a communal tangent for the relatively privileged, that always maintained a side of wholesome goofiness that clearly vibrates from this track.

God Street Wine - Don’t Tell God (1996)

“Don’t Tell God” expresses such a bold & basic sentiment of us mere mortal humans. GSW are another New York band, another “amalgam of rock, jazz, bluegrass, funk, psychedelia, pop, Americana, reggae, progressive, & more.” It strikes me into my dancing bones how many of these artists distinguish themselves with striking blends of many instruments, yet it seems keyboards, pianos, & organs are as prominent as electric guitars, fueling the catch honky-tonky grooviness needed to keep their fans outta their seats & on their feet. 

Say Zuzu - Better Days (1995)

Originally based in New Hampshire, Say Zuzu come from the roots & alt-country side of things with a needed & timeless anthem of hope. Guitars & harmonicas & relentlessly delicious vocals carry this track straight to my hungry soul, direct from an album with the wanderlust title of Highway Signs & Driving Songs. Beyond the music, bandleader Cliff Murphy completed the PhD at Brown in American Music, later serving as the state ethnomusicologist for the State of Maryland. Today, Murphy is the director for Smithsonian's Center for Folklife & Cultural Heritage.

Cravin Melon - Come A Day (1997)

Like Calobo above, Cravin Melon were one of the first bands from this period that I started listening to intently in 2023. Coming from Charleston, they seem to be a bridge between the southern jangle pop thing made famous by R.E.M. & the adjacent jammier heights. “Come A Day” & other tracks on the album Red Clay Harvest really layer some harmonies in a thick honey that sticks to you in the best way. It’s so bright & refreshing & like the track about sweet tea, it’s an album of comfort songs to return to again & again.

Donna the Buffalo - Sacred Ground (1993)

I still can’t believe how many of these lesser-known smaller-market acts built the small-town scene. Oh, what a glorious hippie-dance-party institution are these cats called Donna The Buffalo. The female vocals & reggae groove immediately set this track apart on this setlist. 

Leftover Salmon - River’s Rising (1997)

The folk & bluegrass connections with the jamband seen have followed a long & delicious trailway. “Jamgrass” doesn’t necessarily capture it, but it’s as helpful a tag as any. I don’t think the 90s pioneers could have ever foreseen the massive popularity of Billy Strings. The infectious “slamgrass” inflections of Leftover Salmon were the first slinky dance of this muse to find me around the turn-of-the-century, unlike some of the other iterations on this playlist that only found me more recently on these archival digs. 

Widespread Panic - Wondering (1993)

The southern-rock-to-jamband connection runs as deep as our muddy creeks after a downpour. I remember first learning of Widespread Panic from some of its fans whose paths crossed mine in Murfreesboro way-back-then. The Georgia rock scene was a gift that just kept giving. One time around 2008, the last summer before getting clean & sober, I might have watched the trees in Rothbury, Michigan bend to meet the sonic reverberations at a Panic show. It was as if their entire concert were one with the earth & sky & I was all about it. This playlist would be incomplete without their longevity & legacy 

Phish - Train Song (1996)

In Vermont’s “northern kingdom,” between Burlington & the Bread-&-Puppet theater space, an alternate world was blossoming at the end of the 20th century. Any 1990s jammy mix that leaves out Phish would be negligent, as this band, as this movement, as this scene have been epic torchbearers in the epic extended universe that Jerry built.

The Grapes - Drift Away (1991)

1970’s “Drift Away” is a classic song from the larger American songbook & the classic hippy soundtrack. Until hearing this version, I always loved the interpretations by Dobie Gray & John Henry Kurtz. Now, this lost version from Atlanta’s The Grapes will reside right there with the classic renditions. 

This playlist, essay, & annotations were a labor of love.