By Chad Miller - Summit FM Music Director

What's everyone been listening to out there? So much new music coming at us, so little time... However, these songs that might fly under the radar to most are what I've been diggin' these past few weeks!

Like what you hear? Please email me at chad@thesummit.fm and let me know what you think!

By Dave Swanson - Summit FM Contributor

Once again, it's that time of year. Crazy people get all dressed up, make their presence known, babble some nonsense, and show off in front of their peers. No, not Halloween; I'm talking about the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame induction Ceremony.

Every year around this time, the powers that be sweep in the latest class of inductees for inclusion into those hallowed halls of rockdom. Then there's a day off; then the arguing about who should or shouldn't be in gets back on track the day after. It's as cyclical as the seasons. The nominees are announced in the spring. People argue. Those nominees are whittled down to the 'select few' for induction. People argue. Managers and band members organize themselves, and a big television special is created! Well, something like that, anyway.

Like any awards ceremony, it's all about the pomp, the circumstance, the fashion, and the sincerity worn proudly by many artists as they are inducted. Many acts are truly honored by the event, while others take a more deserved stance. They get up there and tell their tale, say thank you, smile, and wave, and they're gone. It always seems the elder statesmen accepting are often the most genuine in that it really does mean a lot to them to be acknowledged. Wonderful, I say! On the flip side, there are those who take this moment to air dirty laundry and complain.

There are other speeches and select moments, however, that rise above the occasion to make a truly entertaining moment that adds to their legacy. Or, in the case of Mike Love's infamous speech upon the Beach Boys induction, subtracts from that legacy as Love repeatedly called out members of the Beatles, Billy Joel, Springsteen, and others, daring them to get on stage with him and the Beach Boys. The other members were left a bit confused by all this, and Elton John (who had inducted them) took the mic and said, "Thank f--k he didn't mention me!" We love you, Elton!

John Fogerty was so dead set on his stance as the only significant member of Creedence Clearwater Revival that he not only refused to let the band play with him but tried to stop them from being able to take the mic to say their round of thank yous. In the end, they didn't play, but they did speak, something that was known as the "Forgerty clause," where all are allowed to have their moment. The performances are still an issue for former and current band members and band leaders. When Blondie was inducted, former members Frank Infante, Gary Valentine, and Nigel Harrison complained on stage about not being allowed to play. This led Debbie Harry to inform them her band was about to play, to which Infante said, "I thought Blondie was being inducted." Oh, kids.

Two of the classier moments in this realm came when Elvis Costello and the Attractions were inducted. Bassist Bruce Thomas had long been out of Costello's circle after writing an autobiography that spoke some unkind words about the man. Water under the bridge, Costello acknowledged that though he and Bruce hadn't always gotten along, he was a crucial part of the Attractions and welcomed him, though he didn't play with Elvis and the Imposters (essentially the Attractions without Thomas). Are you keeping track at home?!

Another adult moment came when Cheap Trick were inducted. Though drummer Bun E. Carlos hadn't been a member of the band for several years (long story) they not only let him accept the honor alongside them, but let him play as well, allowing fans to see the original band one more time! That speaks volumes of the pettiness so often fueling this nonsense.

Like I said, many acceptance speeches are essentially cut-and-paste sentiments with a slightly different angle, which is fine, but it's the other ones, good or bad, that make the light shine brighter.

Here then, is a list of the best Rock Hall acceptance speeches.

1988 - Beach Boys
Dennis Wilson was long gone, but Carl and Brian were still on board, each giving a sincere tip of the hat to family, fellow musicians, friends, industry people, and so on. Then Mike Love took the stage. Mike, or as some call him, Satan, had a big chip on his shoulder and just started calling out seemingly anyone he could think of. He complained that Dianna Ross couldn't make time to be there or that Paul McCartney refused to take part due to some lawsuit with Yoko at the time, challenging "the mop tops" to battle it out with the Beach Boys on stage. Huh? Also, wondering if Billy Joel could still "tickle those ivories" good enough to be onstage with Love and Co. He found time to give a shout-out to Muhammed Ali (?) and was gone.

2011 - Neil Diamond
Yes, Neil Diamond deserves to be in the Rock Hall! Following an induction by longtime friend Paul Simon, Diamond took the stage, seemingly a bit disoriented as he explained he had just flown in from Australia to be there. He had no rehearsed speech or crib notes; he just spoke from the heart, regularly addressing the fans in the 'cheap seats,' referring to them as "these are my people" and then criticizing the amount of money the Rock Hall charges the inductees for seats at the tables, thousands of dollars by the way. At one point, he recalled the criticism he received for recording a duet with Barbara Streisand, saying, "I don't give a shit, and you know what, "She doesn't give a shit either." His attitude was genuinely more 'rock and roll' than most, and though he truly seemed happy to be inducted, he seemingly would have been just as happy to stay home.

2013 - Rush
For die-hard Rush fans, it was no surprise our heroes had not been praised by Rock Hall. The most terminally unhip of all rock bands, critics hated them. Many listeners never made it past stage one (the vocals of Geddy Lee), let alone stage two (the lyrics) but Rush was a band truly on their own path, and by their induction in 2013, they had finally started to become accepted, which seems strange to say seeing as how they had sold millions of records. Bassist Lee, a most mellow character, gave his two cents, followed by drummer/lyricist Neil Peart, who, no surprise, took a bit more structured path for his speech. Then, it was guitarist Alex Lifeson's turn. His entire thank you speech consisted of nothing but the phrase "blah blah blah" as he acted out the story of their long journey to the stage that night. It's was brilliant as everyone knew what he was getting at, so why not have some fun with it. And for as cynical as it might seem, it was equally as sincere.

2008 - Leonard Cohen
As to whether Leonard Cohen was "rock and roll" or not is a moot point. He wrote so many great songs, he was right there with Joni Mitchell, Dylan, Phil Ochs and other in the stellar songwriter brigade. More of a balladeer, obviously, his music and songs were able to transcend genre. Just ask Nick Cave, Jesus and Mary Chain, and the countless others who have recorded his songs over the years. Cohen gave one of the cleverest speeches of all by simply reciting the lyrics to his song 'Tower Of Song.' Such genius lines as "I said to Hank Williams, how lonely does it get? Hank Williams hasn't answered yet, but I hear him coughing all night long, a hundred floors above me in the Tower of Song." One of Cohen's finest works, it was a perfect way to say what needed to be said.

2017 - Rick Wakeman - Yes
Hands down, the best Rock Hall speech came from none other than Yes keyboardist Rick Wakeman. For those who think of 'prog rock' as being humorless, stiff, and pretentious, you've never met Mr. Wakeman, have you? Wakeman stepped up to the mic after the other members had their moment and immediately became a standup comedian. Now, the truth is, he has done this as a sidebar gig for many years and is quite adept at it, old-school style. So, when it came time for a speech, he told a fellow band member what he wanted to do. They egged him on, which was perfect and caused more puzzled looks in the crowd than one could count. His timing as a musician is spot on, and that matched his comic timing to the last note while, at the same time, deflating the self-aggrandizing tendencies that so often can be involved. Bravo, Mr. Wakeman.

By Matt Anthony - Summit FM Contributor
 
 
But, hell, I chose it, yeah, I own it 
And it brings me to my knees 
I got lucky. 
“Lucky” -  Elle King 
 
 
It was one-thousand, six-hundred and seventy cubic centimeters of torque-laden mechanical ingenuity.  It was a rare black-and-gold color scheme that prompted instant commentary from onlookers. And it was a machine that commanded respect from the person who climbed onto its saddle. 
 
Donna and I traveled from Akron to Crofton, Maryland, to retrieve it from a dealer. It was a gently-used 2007 Victory Kingpin. I spotted her online and it was lust at first-sight. On that chilly evening, while drooling over photos, I knew instantly that the Honda Shadow Aero in my garage would be relegated to trade-bait status. 
 
But on that March afternoon in 2012, I wasn’t contemplating ‘gratitude’ or ‘thanksgiving’, or ‘luck’. I was sitting on top of that butter-smooth engine and pondering a busy calendar. A small break in the action allowed me to take advantage of a warm day and drop off the ‘Pin for a much-needed oil change. Crossing over Tallmadge Avenue on Brittain Road, I twisted the throttle, marveling at the Victory’s sheer girth and power.  
 
Accelerating towards the light, I suddenly noticed an Akron police cruiser inching past me. And the time that it took me to steal a glance in its direction prohibited me from seeing that green light at the top of the hill flicker to ‘yellow’. 
 
In motorcycle training class, we’re taught to accelerate through a yellow light if possible. ‘Better to get a ticket than to risk a crash,’ they would say. 
 
But on that warm, windy day, I couldn’t get that Akron police cruiser out of my head. What if they start to slow down as the light turns to red, and I soar through it? I couldn’t respond directly because my right hand had already begun squeezing the front brake, and my right boot had already pounded down on the rear brake. 
 
And then I heard the squeal. 
 
To this day, I’m still amazed at how many mental calculations were executed that afternoon in those milliseconds. It was almost as if the left side of my brain were trying to relay to the other side all the possible choices, consequences, and questions to consider: if the crash occurred on the ‘low side, would I slide on the pavement under the light following the same path as my voluptuous Victory beauty, both of us tangled in a heap near the curb? Would my leather jacket and riding trousers offer any protection from Brittain Road’s unforgiving surface? 
 
Or would centrifugal force launch me ‘high side’, hurling me onto the roadway with a resounding thud? How many bones would I break? Would my helmet shatter into a million pieces? (Or would it be my medulla?) How would I get to the emergency room? And what about my bike? 
 
I mean, what in the hell is this going to feel like?! 
 
“Luck is being grateful for what I have.  Gratitude attracts luck and prosperity.” 
 Dr. Martha Beck 
 
But the breezy air of that March afternoon would not be punctured by the sound of shattered plastic, twisted metal, and contorted bones. An ambulance would not have to be called. Rehabilitation and therapy would be avoided. And, I suppose, most importantly, nobody would be required to participate in a life celebration. 
 
Somehow, amidst the complex tasks being performed by the organ inside my Arai helmet, I must have squeezed just the right amount of my front brake. Somewhere within those computations, I pushed down on that rear brake with the exact required degree of pressure.  
 
Because the hideous sound of that squeal ceased. My 2007 Victory Kingpin came to a stop, my front wheel pointed towards the curb, and a red traffic light danced in the breeze directly above my helmet. 
 
I panted. Then, I slowly regained normal respiratory function. While duck-walking my Victory back into a position to start it up again, I felt the most intense stab of gratitude injected into me, initially introducing itself as a blunt-force sledgehammer of ‘luck’.   
 
Oh, and in an almost comical moment of irony, I watched that Akron police cruiser go slowly through that red light and turn left onto Independence Avenue, seemingly ambivalent towards my most fortunate delay with the Afterlife. 
 
Unfortunately, my caregiver status no longer affords me the luxury of participating in one of the most gratifying and life-altering hobbies I’ve ever experienced: motorcycling. In my short 15 years of riding, I’ve seen my share of acquaintances and riding buddies who have not been so lucky. One of my best friends, Brad, continues to suffer the effects of a decision made by a young 19-year-old woman to continue typing her text while her SUV slammed into the rear end of his (newly purchased) 2005 Yamaha FJR. 
 
While the jury may be out as to whether ‘luck’ should be included in the discussion of gratitude, I know which camp I’m in. And while I’m still, to this day, incapable of explaining the physics or the logic behind what I did correctly that day to avoid catastrophe, my ignorance still enables me to be grateful for the outcome.  

By Summit FM Contributor Marc Lee Shannon

I would arrive home, click on the Yamaha tuner that powers up the Klipsch speakers and subwoofer, and exhale—the simple joy of my favorite music station's at-home, end-of-day comfort. As I took off my jacket, put my backpack on the floor, and plopped on the couch, I would hear paw clicks on the vinyl wood floor and see the spy-like glide from the doorway into the room of my welcome ambassador, Martin the Dog. After a gentle nose nudge and a big-boy stretch, there would be a "Hey, how ya doin'? Woof," and a toothy canine breath smile.

There is just no feeling for a pet lover like walking in the door after a long day of adulting to find a furry friend to greet us and ask for a moment of attention, a salty, crispy thing 'accidentally' dropped on the kitchen floor, and a quick trip to the patch of green just outside.

Music and Pets —my Two Best Friends.

Last February, I got married, and my beautiful bride brought two loving senior dogs to Casa Shannon. Layla and Mika were very different: one skittish and scared of her own shadow, and the other a lumbering shag of orange hair and white whiskers, food-motivated and a constant, familiar presence at the squeak of the fridge opening. To say she was a foodie would not accurately describe her waggy, treat-loving long tail and never-satisfied belly waiting for an upside-down rub-a-dub.

Then it happened: my best pal Martin passed in April of 2022. I am sure my heart will never get over it. My wife Kim's pups were also senior dogs, and we loved them up, but unfortunately, we lost them recently within a month of each other. We both are still not over the loss and probably won't be for a long time.

The house has an eerie feeling of solemn quiet with no dogs. My wife and I promise to remedy this in the next few months, as we miss everything described above and have been preparing ourselves to begin the search. For sure, it will be a rescue that ultimately saves us from the loneliness we feel for our lost and loved furry friends.

It is said that we all want the same thing, all human "beans." That one thing is less suffering, and I get great satisfaction from a warm pet hug, the soft, familiar sound of a radio playing low but still present, and the knowledge that this day will be okay because of My Two Best Friends.

Ah, that other friend?

It's a voice I recognize in between songs, telling me the weather, the big concert announcement, or a Studio C session that, as a member, I can experience—a small format, one-of-a-kind concert from a traveler through the northeast Ohio landscape. An indie band or local heavyweight that shares an hour of stories and songs. The Summit FM is my homeboy, living room pal and background for all my car travels as I make my way on whatever the day brings.

There is comfort in knowing that when I get home, with a flick of the switch, The Summit FM will fill the space with music's energy and healing power. It's a constant in my world, like a cool glass of water on a hot summer day. You know, the one you slam after a long walk in the sun or mowing the back 40. I need to be restored and reset with the perspective of "that song" that somehow knows what my heart feels today—especially when missing our pet pals.

Music, like pets, can heal and repair my mental, physical, and even spiritual well-being in a way that nothing else seems to do. Both can anchor us in the here and now, help bring us back to the moment, and be the vessel that transports us to another place—a unique private village where we can close our eyes and imagine the things that build the bridges to our real-life dreams.

For me, music and pets are the friends in the room who comfort and soothe the soul after a weary day. Both are irreplaceable, undeniable, and unequivocally the best combination.

I’m on that living room couch with the music playing softly in the background, searching for our next best friend online. I hope they like adult album alternative (AAA) programming.

By Dave Swanson - Summit FM Contributor

By the time of his third album, Tom Petty's audience, along with his bravado, had been continuously growing. Gone were any hesitations or uncertainty, Petty and his Heartbreakers were here to stay! "That was a record where life was never gonna be the same again," said Petty, in a look back at this classic essential.

Released in October 1979, 'Damn The Torpedoes' was the self-assured ‘shot heard 'round the world’ we knew Petty had in him from day one. Over the course of the first two albums, 'Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers'(1976) and 'You're Gonna Get It' (1978), Petty had shown himself a powerful new force on the music map. The janglin’ yet raw guitars, mixed with vintage harmonies, and a rock solid premise, was a perfect fit for the era. In fact, when they first emerged, the press, and public, weren't sure what to make of T.P. and band. Reviews often threw them in with the punk scene, and later the 'new wave' tag was applied. Try finding the records in a record store, and you were just as likely to find him in the 'rock' section as in the 'New Wave' bins. Though that may seem quaint now, at the time it was serious business and honestly, the confusion made sense. Tom, and his back to roots and attitude, had much more in common with the new bands arriving like Blondie, Ramones, and so on, than they did with the likes of Kansas or Boston.

Radio favorites like 'American Girl' and 'Listen To Her Heart' set them apart early on, but by the time 'Refugee', from 'Damn The Torpedoes,' hit the airwaves, it was like a bolt of lightning. Here was all of Tom's ties to The Byrds, Dylan, the Animals, and so on, rolled into one track, a track that connected with radio and fans, setting the stage for phase two of Petty's journey. Written by Petty, and guitarist Mike Campbell, 'Refugee' hit the American charts at number 15, setting the stage for the follow-up, 'Don't Do Me Like That,' which would bust into the Top 10 shortly thereafter.

"We may have recorded 'Refugee' a hundred times,” recalled producer Jimmy Iovine. "It was just relentless, and I don't know if that was everything just coming together, but I tell you what, it came out great. I'm proud of that record and it sounds great every time I hear it." The album was recorded under stress brought on by a band lawsuit. Earlier in the game, Petty's label, ABC/Shelter, had been sold to MCA Records. Petty contested that his contract couldn't be sold or adopted by another company without his go ahead and sued the label. In the process, the label countersued for breach of contract with the whole legal mess spilling out into the recording process along the way. The venom and anger brought on by the legal woes may have ultimately added fuel to the fire, found evident within the recordings of these classic songs. "I think it made the music sort of anthemic," recalled Petty.

The album plays like a greatest hits record! In addition to the aforementioned singles, we've got 'Here Comes My Girl,' 'Shadow Of A Doubt,' 'Century City, 'Even The Losers,' 'What Are You Doin’ In My Life,’ and 'Louisiana Rain,' among others. "It was a real mission," said Petty. "We were gonna make this record, and it was gonna be great!" The album went on to sell multi-platinum, as it hit number two on the Billboard charts, held status as one of the year's top sellers, and has taken on a life of its own over the 45 years that have followed. In many ways, it remains the signature Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers album. Essential doesn’t begin to cover its significance, not only in his catalog, but in the story of rock and roll.

By Dave Swanson - Summit FM Contributor

Released in 2007, the third album from Canadian singer-songwriter Leslie Feist went a long way to solidify not only her artistry but also her fan base. Having released her debut album, Monarch, in 1999, she soon had listeners take notice of her signature, somewhat haunting vocal style, mixed with deceptively simple songs.

She was taking the pop song and twisting it into her own shape, combining a variety of elements and making them her own. Let It Die followed in 2004, launching her even higher and winning her two Canadian Juno Awards for 'Best New Artist' and 'Best Alternative Rock Album.' Somewhere in between those first two albums, she joined forces with Canadian indie rockers Broken Social Scene, with whom she played for several years, both live and in the studio.

The Reminder arrived in the spring of 2007, entering the US Billboard charts at No. 16. It brought her yet another round of Juno Awards for 'Best Pop Album of 2007' and 'Best Album of 2007,' as well as a Grammy nomination for 'Best Pop Album.' "One record really just dovetailed into the next," she said in a 2013 interview. "I recorded The Reminder while I was on tour for Let It Die, and then just sort of continued touring, but with a different record."

Unlike her previous works, The Reminder featured all songs written or co-written by Feist. The previous album included covers of songs by Ron Sexsmith, the Bee Gees, Françoise Hardy, and others, as well as Feist originals. On The Reminder,she made a conscious effort to keep it all coming from within. "I think I knew I didn't want to sing any covers," she said in an interview for the album. "I had a hard time singing other people's lyrics, more than melodies. Melodies are sort of like a waterslide; if it's someone else's melody, it can just be like you're along for the ride, and it's really fun."

As her songwriting developed, she took note and ran with it. "As I got older, the people I was playing with, we all started to get a little more proficient, and melodies became more interesting," she noted, adding that her lyrics developed in their own way as well. "I go a lot to using nature symbolism—things like storms, volcanoes, lightning, thunder, and earthquakes, the massive movements of the earth—to relate to emotions." The songs had more layers upon first listen, with even more uncovered with every spin. Songs like ‘My Moon, My Man’ and ‘1-2-3-4’ stood out as unique alongside others of the era.

Though Feist continues to make music, having released three albums in the 17 years since The Reminder, it is that album that people still talk about as her golden moment. Check it out here on The Summit FM Album Essentials.

By Summit FM Contributor Marc Lee Shannon

March 15th, 2015. It’s my first solo all-original singer-songwriter gig—sober.

Location? A downtown bar that used to be the late-night palace of promises to myself to quit my drinking, and here I was on the stage, tuning, pacing, and panicking.

Tonight, I was flying without a net.

The previous November, I finally managed to string together consecutive days, weeks, and months without booze or anything, and I was on a roll. An old friend, a kind and generous matron of the establishment, had promised a Benjamin for a one-hour set, and I needed it—the money, the lift of playing my songs, and the knowledge that it could be done by me stone-cold sober.

I won’t get into the nights of debauchery and the tales of my inebriated escapades, as I have spent many clicks on my Mac telling those stories. How I rarely drank on stage at the end of my time using alcohol; instead, always afterward, a seemingly innocent water bottle filled to the top under the front seat. Only it wasn’t water. Yeah, that was me, and I was the guy frowning when you called for "one more song" at the night’s end. I wanted to get to my car and work on the pre-buzz to get me to the real buzz at home, where the giant bottle was waiting like a lover, peering through the blinds. "Are we there yet?" my brain would plead as I turned into the driveway where I could finally drink my fill, and my spirit could rest until tomorrow.

Years later, I learned that scientific studies consistently show that when we listen to (or play, in my case) music, the brain releases a chemical that gives us a sense of pleasure. Dopamine is the same neurotransmitter that helps us savor the joy of food, the depth of intimacy with a loved one, and the euphoria from alcohol, tobacco, and, in my case, other substances that I was ingesting daily. Because of my consistent use over the years, my brain had developed a habit that would require a long period of abstinence before it could finally reset and recover. Like someone trying to quit smoking, the way to remove the urge was to get treatment and work a program.

That incredible feeling I had as a teenager strapping on a Gibson guitar, plugging in, and playing those first chords had morphed into something completely different over the years. Now, in early recovery, I desperately wanted that sense of satisfaction, that rush, to return. I was determined to get it back, and tonight, without drinking, I was on the high wire.

Thankfully, I had sober support in the house and some good rehearsal under my belt, and I let it loose. In the first song, my voice was pitchy, and I messed up the chords in the verse, but I got through it. Somewhere in the middle of that first solo set, sober, it hit me: that feeling where one plus one equals three for a performing artist, and I was in the zone. Bruce Springsteen described it as something of a magic trick in his Broadway show, where suddenly you "got it."

The audience was with me, nodding and smiling, and my guitar playing and singing were perfectly in sync and in tune. It was like that first gig as a sophomore in the Irish Troubadour Club at St. Vincent-St. Mary’s all those years before. I was back.

In the next few months, I would join my bandmates in Michael Stanley and the Resonators on stage with a different vibe. Resilient and confident, I would experience an almost intuitive sense when playing in that ensemble with those other incredible musicians—the enchanting intoxication of playing sober with the knowledge that you have prepared your mind and spirit to be here, and no artificial inspiration is needed.

Looking back, like many in the recovery fellowship have repeatedly told me, "It just keeps getting better." Just like "the Boss" said…

It is a magic trick.

By Dave Swanson - Summit FM Contributor

Way back when, soundtracks to movies were usually a film score with the occasional vocal track for the title tune. Often created by one composer or artist, these soundtracks served as a sonic companion to the film. From the countless brilliant Henry Mancini soundtracks of the 1960s (and beyond) to the great jazz and classical scores, they captured the mood perfectly. At some point, the soundtrack became a thing unto itself. For the sake of argument, I’m going to cite the 1973 American Graffiti double album as one of the first to not only stand alone while still serving the movie but to become a significant release in its own right. The film, set in 1962, fit right in with the '50s revival happening at the time—Sha Na Na, The Lords of Flatbush, Ringo covering '50s pop hits, and eventually Happy Days. The hippie hangover had caused many to dive backward several years.

As the years went by, the soundtrack album became not only a significant companion to the film it represented but often a moneymaker in its own right, sometimes enjoying a longer life than the movie. Flash forward to the mid-1990s, and those kids wanted their own soundtrack. Call it what you want—slackers, Generation X—but they were primed for their moment in the spotlight. Two such soundtracks that come to mind are Singles and Reality Bites.

The film featured a cavalcade of hip actors of the era, such as Winona Ryder, Ethan Hawke, Ben Stiller, and Janeane Garofalo, making it a box office hit. Plus, what could be more '90s than a cameo from Soul Asylum's Dave Pirner and druggy poster boy crooner Evan Dando to seal that MTV vibe?

The soundtrack covered similar ground, with one notable exception, leading to the Reality Bites album becoming one of the best-loved soundtracks of its time, if not one of the biggest sellers. Tracks from Juliana Hatfield, the Posies, Lenny Kravitz, Dinosaur Jr., Lisa Loeb, and U2 all resonated and helped push the album into the Billboard Top 20. Reggae band Big Mountain scored a bona fide hit with their cover of the Peter Frampton classic "Baby, I Love Your Way," and the 1981 Squeeze gem "Tempted" ensured the '80s were not forgotten.

However, it was a classic song from 1979 that perhaps defines what the soundtrack—and the film—is fondly remembered for. While grabbing snacks at the mini-mart, the radio starts playing "My Sharona" by the Knack, causing the girls to get excited and start dancing. It’s charmingly cute in all its rapid vapidness, and then it’s over! This brief scene caused, if only momentarily, classic rock radio to revisit the Knack song, giving it a nostalgic boost. Thankfully, Knack leader Doug Fieger was still alive to bask in that moment of glory. The band, who had reunited a few years prior, released two killer post-Reality Bites albums. Like any good product placement, it certainly didn’t hurt! I could easily continue rambling about the Knack, but if you’re interested in more about them, please check below.

As for the film being some sort of Gen X profile, one of the actors saw it differently. "They're going to try and market it as a Generation X story, which is the stupidest thing. It’s not," Garofalo told David Letterman upon the film's release. "It’s just that the cast happened to be in their twenties and the director is in his twenties. It's just a love triangle story; it’s not Generation X. It’s not whatever the studio is deciding they're going to hook into whatever buzzword to market it. It's just a normal small story."

Regardless, Reality Bites, the album, captured the mood of the film as well as that moment in time—the 1990s, before smartphones, talent shows, reality shows, auto-tuning, AI, alternate facts, and 9/11. Yeah, I guess it was a simpler time.