Move over, Dad Rock. The Cigarette Mom has arrived, and she’s waiting for you to get your coat and meet her on the back porch for a smoke. This one is for all my Midwest moms with chunky highlights and a voice like sandpaper. For the New Jersey moms popping their gum while having a chat at their rusty front gate. And most importantly, this is for my former boss, when I worked on a farm after college. Sandy, you hated everyone, including me most of the time, but you’ll always be the Cigarette Mom of my heart.
“I Should’ve Known” by Aimee Mann
Aimee Mann debuted in 1993 with the album Whatever, after ending her new wave band Til Tuesday in 1990. She later said that she felt like the weakest link in the band, that her “punky” vocals didn’t quite mesh with their style of 80s new wave pop. Although Whatever wasn’t really a commercial success, it introduced Mann’s evolved songwriting along with her new interest in guitar-heavy songs. The album opened with “I Should’ve Known”, which features a strong alt-rock foundation for Mann to build her evocative vocals on. It’s quirky, emotive, and just irreverent enough to appeal to 90s women who felt they didn’t quite fit in anywhere.
“F–k and Run” by Liz Phair
Liz Phair has long been the underdog of 90s women. Perpetually misunderstood since her debut 1993 album Exile In Guyville, she was often written off as just another angry woman, another Fiona Apple or Alanis Morissette. And they are similar, true. But at the same time, she has always struck me as more on par with PJ Harvey. Liz Phair’s “F–k and Run” is to PJ Harvey’s “Man-Size”, and so on and so forth.
When “F–k and Run” came out on Exile In Guyville, the response was almost overwhelmingly from men, both critics and casual listeners, who misinterpreted the lyrics. Particularly, the lines, “It’s f–k and run, f–k and run / Even when I was seventeen / F–k and run, f–k and run / Even when I was twelve.” Taken at face value, many claimed the song was pro-sex to the point of deviancy. But in reality, it served as commentary on lack of commitment, cultural loss of emotional stability, and yes, one-night stands.
“You Oughta Know” by Alanis Morissette
Alanis Morissette is the original Heartbroken It Girl. But instead of crying into her pillow about a failed relationship, she went out into the middle of nowhere and screamed about it. Yes, the most prevalent rumor might be that “You Oughtta Know” is about Dave Coulier of Full House fame. And yes, it still goes hard every time I hear it. Both things can exist.
Morissette refuses to confirm any real subjects of her songs to this day, so the Uncle Joey association can rest for now. Still, “You Oughta Know” is arguably one of Morissette’s strongest showings on Jagged Little Pill. It’s raw, emotional, and accessibly angry. It’s also just unhinged enough to resonate on a frequency that can only be heard by women who have had their hearts so thoroughly broken they’re about to crash and burn and take out the entire tri-state area while they’re at it.
“I’m The Only One” by Melissa Etheridge
“I’m the Only One” appeared on Melissa Etheridge’s 1993 album Yes I Am, also featuring the hit “Come to My Window”. The album earned overwhelming praise from fans, especially in the LGBTQ community. Notably, it was Etheridge’s first release after publicly coming out as a lesbian. Meanwhile, “I’m the Only One” gained acclaim as well for its hard-hitting composition and relatable lyrics. Opening with almost bluesy guitar and Etheridge’s sultry vocals, “I’m the Only One” paints a sensual picture of everlasting passion. The speaker is faced with a straying lover, but she makes it clear that her desire is pure and endless, no matter what.
Photo by Mick Hutson/Redferns
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