3hree Things: A Box Full Of Cassettes And Shame

Watch out for 3hree Things every Tuesday, where Riley Breckenridge, drummer of Orange County's favorite local alt-rock band Thrice, gives his take on life in Southern California as an OC native.

I'm not gonna lie. I didn't spend my formative years as a music listener (late-80's/early-90's)  listening to Fugazi, or Black Flag, or My Bloody Valentine, or MC5, or The Melvins, or this seminal band, or that seminal band*. Nope. Instead, I'd my way over to the Peer Records that used to be in the Irvine Marketplace, and stock up on piles of new cassettes and cassette singles full of audio garbage to willingly assault my earholes with.

I remember a fair share of those regrettable purchases (many of which have appeared in my Flashback Friday posts on my blog), but through the magic of selective memory I figured I'd actually managed to purge most of those regrettable purchases from the deepest recesses of my brain. That changed when I spent some time cleaning out my mom's garage and found (no lie) three huge boxes FULL of cassettes from the early-'90s. 
Right there, plain as day. Physical evidence of my poor decision-making, financial irresponsibility and godawful taste.
“Hey, just in case you forgot how much of an idiot you were, here are three massive boxes to throw you into a mild depression jog your memory a bit.”
What follows, is a look at three of the worst from ONE box of worstness. I might save the other two boxed piles-of-disappointment-encased-in-an-obsolete-audio-medium for a day when I feel like I need to knock my middling self-worth down a few pegs.  

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1) 2 Live Crew, “Head, Booty & C*ck” (1988)

This song is NSFW, or anywhere really. Ever.

“Wait…what is he asking us?”
“I think the first thing is if we like head.”
“Ah. Yeah, man. I'm into it. Who isn't? K, what's the second thing?”
“Booty, I think. He's asking if we like booty.”
“Well, yeah. I like booty…if it's clean and doesn't look like a stuffed laundry bag. So yeah, we're two-for-two. What's the last thing?”
“Cock.”
“Uh…”

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2) The Boys, “Dial My Heart” (1988)

That's right, ladies. If you ever feel alone, schlep your destitute ass down to a payphone as call an eight-year-old.
Granted, it's been 24 years, but I can't think of a single good reason why I made this purchase. Was I a fan of pitchy singing? Bad dancing? Songs that sound like Gloria Estefan B-sides sung by Kids Bop? Maybe it was those killer synth tom rolls. Maybe I wished I had three younger brothers so we could start a pop/R&B group and sing about having women call our various body organs.

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3) Crash Test Dummies, “Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm” (1993)

More like Fffffffffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu…
There are no words. There are no excuses. There is only shame.
I wish I could explain the sound that came out of me when I found this one. It was like if you were to take “WHATTHEFUCK”, “Nooooooooo” and the world's longest sigh and chewed them up, swallowed them and promptly vomited them right back out on to your lap.
In my defense, I didn't buy the album…just the casette single. A measly dollar or so, thrown in the general vicinity of a band who wrote a song with a chorus that sounds like someone having a seizure in a vocal booth that inexplicably rose to #1 on Billboard's Modern Rock Radio chart for a week in March of '94. Still though…ugh.
Please join me in shame by posting some of your regrettable purchases in the comments.
*Please note that I did find some Eric B. & Rakim, N.W.A., Run-DMC, Stetsasonic, A Tribe Called Quest, Public Enemy, Black Sheep, Digable Planets, 2 Pac, Pantera, Metallica and Pearl Jam in this same box. It wasn't ALL bad.

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