by Matt Reilly, XPN Evening/Weekend Host

Houston, Texas is a radio wasteland.  Growing up there as a rock fan, you were fed a steady diet of “Sleeping Bag” from ZZ Top, “Bad to the Bone” from George Thorogood, “Jump” from Van Halen, and lots of Whitesnake and Def Leppard. Now, those are okay in light moderation and in the right context, but you could hear one of those every day on several different stations.  These days, exchange Nickelback and Creed for Thorogood and Van Hagar for Van Halen, and there you go. Not really any better.  

There was a time, albeit a brief one, where you actually wanted to listen to the radio. This was 1991, and these strange beings were making music in the Pacific Northwest. What was so strange about these musical creatures?  Well for starters, they didn’t wear makeup or tease their hair.  There was no spandex or vinyl or ‘pleather’. These dudes dressed kinda like construction workers (real ones, not the kind that hang out with cops and Indians), and played simple riffs really loud and they seemed to care.  By that I mean the lyrics were not about fruit flavored desserts or slick roadways. Some serious emotion was happening before our very ears.  It was awesome. 

I distinctly remember hearing “Smells Like Teen Spirit” while driving home from school in my ’74 sky blue Lincoln Town Car (it had a 460 engine, it was magnificent, but that’s a story for another day). I had goose bumps.  I was completely glued to the radio waiting for the DJ to tell me who the hell that was. Needless to say, I rushed out and bought the cassette as soon as it was available and promptly wore it out. So many good songs! So simple, yet so complex! This led to the personal discovery of bands like Soundgarden, Mudhoney, Fugazi and King Missile. Now, everybody is aware of the Grunge Movement and its historical impact, but for me it changed the way I listened to bad radio.