I told them why.
1997 wasn’t grunge’s anger or Britpop’s swagger. 1997 was the moment everyone realized the future was a cool glass door that might slam in your face. The internet was a rumor. Princess Diana was dead. The economy was soaring, but everyone felt hollow. best song of 1997
Chloe, our pop critic, snorted. “Oh, please. That song is seven minutes of a genius having a panic attack. The ‘best’ song of 1997 should make you feel something other than existential dread. It’s ‘Building a Mystery’ by Sarah McLachlan. That bassline alone—” I told them why
The assignment: pick the single best song of the year. The internet was a rumor
“You want feelings?” interjected Dan, the resident hip-hop head. “Try ‘Hypnotize.’ Biggie. Summer. Flow like a broken fire hydrant. You couldn’t walk three blocks in Brooklyn without hearing that beat. That’s a best song .”
Mark leaned back. “We’re not picking a song that lost a plagiarism lawsuit.”
“It’s a song about being stuck inside your own life,” I said. “You have money. You have a Walkman. You have a whole city. And you’re still just some guy trying not to get hit by a bus.”