Some songs that might remind you of being a teenager in the 90s. And a silly memory:

I’m 14 and I’m on the phone to Ben Sandy. He’s in year 11 and I’m in year 9, so already, regardless, I’m punching. Age matters.

‘What sort of music are you into?’

Fuuuuuuuuuck. Terror. Excitement. My time to shine/connect/define myself. Or look like a complete twat.

Think. Nothing mainstream. Obviously. Alternative stuff. Stuff that shows how deep you are. Angst was particularly cool in the 90s. Inner turmoil. But not so much that it shows you had your heart broken least year by George Garby and cried every night for months. Definitely not that. Irreverent turmoil. Sex? Tricky. You could veer into the dreaded ‘slag tag’. Feminism wasn’t something I thought I had any power over or a part to play in when I was 14. Bristol! Bristol was cool. Underground. (I grew up in a tiny village in Somerset, 10 miles from Bristol.)

‘A bit of everything. Indie stuff’. I will throughout the conversation make it clear that I like the first album of everything. Their second album was always shit.

We discover we actually like a lot of the same music. Phew. Kindred spirits, definitely. Fuck George Garby. Anyway, Ben is year 11 and George is only year 10, so regardless, I’ve already won.

Ben says he’s going to lend me a Red Hot Chilli Peppers album. Glee. We’ll meet after school. Maybe we’ll snog.

We’re about to say bye, plans made, and then he offers, ‘I like Pink’.

Who they fuck are Pink? Jesus. I’m actually too cool to know who Pink is but I don’t know that yet. Honesty? As if. Way too vulnerable. I’m 14. I still want to tell everyone I’ve snogged a boy in year 11.

‘Pink. Yeah, they are cool.’

I frantically ring my best friend afterwards and discover Pink is a woman. Not a ‘they’. It was the 90’s, gender-less pronouns didn’t exist.

What a TWAT. But Ben Sandy still lent me his Red Hot Chilli Peppers album. And we snogged behind the bike sheds.

To being a teenager in the 90’s xxxx