1995's greatest: empire records

before their hole-in-the-wall music store gets gobbled by the franchise monster, a group of love-starved gen-x teenagers discover who they are and what they want out of life. a fairly simple story made glorious by terrific actors, tremendous one-liners, and a soundtrack to end all soundtracks. liv tyler plays a pill-popping daddy's girl who wants to lose it to a has-been pop star, renee zellweger as the charming whore who craves confidence, and rory cochrane plays a deluded fuck-up who spends the whole movie either on a couch or holding a couch cushion for spending the money that was to "save the empire." all of this plays out as nothing short of a distinctively 90's musical with the co-workers singing and dancing their issues through popular music. i mean, who doesn't wanna play an impromptu gig on top of a building? makes me wanna make slogan buttons and dye my hair. perhaps too prophetic about the decline in record shops. "say no more, mon amour," indeed. taught me everything i needed to know about d.i.y.

scientific best

i wanna be their friend.

western

i love this way too much. a mash-up of 20th century fame, 21st century shame, and bubblegum misery against a willowy background of californian freedom. a sly, beautiful commentary of modern privilege and narcissism.

the rhythm

"take a toke from the smoke."
--my jamaican guy by grace jones

class

sophistication at its height.

on track

the hippest trip in america is officially at its close. later, don. you gave unprecedented access to our brilliant culture that so many were deprived of. peace.

competition

game on.