We’ve all had embarrassing times that we were really into something that we realize in retrospect is shitty and embarrassing, whether it’s a band, an author, or even an entire genre of something. What’s yours?
I was in the college in the mid-to-late-nineties when I got waaaaaay into Trip Hop, the short-lived musical genre that came out of the UK. Trip Hop came out of what they used to call “Acid Jazz,” but it was basically lame, “chilled out” hip hop instrumentals for white people who liked rap beats but were afraid of hearing a black person. Some of the stuff that trickled over to the U.S. was actually pretty good - Tricky and Portishead, for example - but I indiscriminately devoured all of it, from the bad (Kid Loco and DJ Cam) to the downright embarrassing (Shadow Records compilations and the “Mushroom Jazz” DJ mix series). Most embarrassing was the whole “blunted” culture that surrounded the scene, where pot was given the Opium Den treatment; it seemed like every artist’s name (Morcheeba), album title (“Mad Blunted Jazz”), or often both (DJ Puff’s “Blunted Beats”) was a Junior High-esque weed reference.
Of course I was all into it, spending an ungodly amount of money on imports and vinyl. I even had a period as a Trip Hop DJ where I spun “blunted beats” in the “chillout room” of raves.
In retrospect, I understand why I was into it (I went on to get really into real hip hop) at the time, but it’s still embarrassing as hell and I don’t like to dwell on it too much.
I wanted to be a beatnik when I was 15. Candles in wine bottles – that’s about all you need, isn’t it, maybe some Kerouac paperbacks? It would have been more fun if I could have gotten someone else to go along.
I still have a map of Middle Earth on my bedroom wall. That phase isn’t over yet.
I paid to see WCW Monday Nitro back in 1999, probably when pro wrestling was near its most recent peak. It was fun at the time, and I don’t feel terribly embarrassed about it. I was a smark – I had fun cheering for my favorite wrestlers, but I followed the backstage business and knew what was “worked” all the time.
I’ve had serious crushes on Olivia Newton-John, Melissa Manchester and Kristy McNichol. It’s duo-fold embarassing: They were all cheesy 70s crushes, and I’m friggin’ GAY!
I got over them all. Now I just crush on unattainable cheesy men instead of unattainable cheesy women…
Somewhere around '83, I tried to turn a redneck brother in law on to the Buzzcocks and Stiff Little Fingers (their first album.) That wasn’t the worst. The worst was when I thought that the Hickoids were the next Rolling Stones (Sheesh, why am I even admitting it!?)
I’m about 10 years older than Kyth, so it’s appropriate that I was madly into New Kids on the Block. Yes, I’m embarrassed. I was crazy for Jordan Knight. I still remember he is seven years older than me. All this useless information my brain holds. Anyway I wallpapered my room with him.
For about six years I was a pretty devoted furry fan. I was a little part of the fanzine community, joined one of their periodic indignant-letters-to-the-editors campaigns (though I forget which one exactly), and even went to a couple conventions (spending what was, at the time, nearly half my monthly income to go).
My embarrassing fan’s confession is that I haven’t completely abandoned or transcended any of my past obsessions, even that which had me in its grip when I was a teenager. Even the stuff I don’t dwell on, read, watch or listen to much anymore I can still enjoy or appreciate on some level.
This suggests either a serious case of arrested development, or that I’ve always had pretty good taste.
But were you a 20-something straight college boy? Who also bought their self-titled debut? (Or rather had his girlfriend at the time actually go into the store and buy it)
I saw them live. Twice. My first and second concerts, though for the most part I kind of gloss over that these days, and just admit to them being my first concert if pressed. I had all sorts of junk with their pictures on it - t-shirts, posters, slippers, you name it. My favourite was Joey (six years older than me, and no, I didn’t need to look that up).
It would have been more fun if I could have gotten someone else to go along.
