Let's take a moment to live the good ol' days of MTV and the life and times of the music video. It's no secret that we, here at bad neighbors. are constantly lamenting the death of MTV, (as we knew it), and the music video. It makes it so much harder to see the passing of Michael Jackson, who was, perhaps, the unparalleled King of the music video. The '80s were good for the music video, but the '90s saw the art-form really hit it's stride. Now that was a decade when everyone who was anyone, and everyone who wasn't made a contribution. The crown-jewels of MTV's programming was almost undoubtedly 120 Minutes, Headbanger's Ball, and Beavis & Butthead, (they played videos!). A while back, we had the chance to interview Viva Radio's Ryan Creed, the creator and DJ behind the 120 Minutes Forever radio program. So, without further ado, here's the piece taken word for word from Viva's blog!

Hey, Viva-philes! We've got a pressing question: who misses the '90s?...All of your hands should be up. Well, thank goodness for Ryan Creed, lead brain, young-John Norris look-a-like, and head historian behind 120 Minutes Forever, on Viva Radio. For the last year Ryan has kept our hearts and heads in check, curating the best picks from the latest bygone era, while championing bands like The Breeders, Whole, Liz Phair, and the Meatpuppets. He's saving them from the the floods of digital obscurity and reminding us that CDs once had a place in this world.

There was just something so romantic about the '90s that we just can't get over. MTV ruled the airwaves, playing these things called "music videos", and guys like Kurt Loder and John Norris were more involved and up-to-the-minute news-anchors than those guys with caste-iron hair on NBC. You guys remember that MTV NEWS intro with the ball of typewriter arms pounding "MTV NEWS" into the screen? That was awesome. Ryan Creed brings back the alternative love, salvaging the ruins of what was once the programming crown-jewel, (our opinion), of MTV—120 Minutes. So go ahead, Gen X'ers and Y'ers—take a trip down memory lane and remember why Pavement was the raddest band to walk the earth, remember how Seattle was once the center of the Universe, remember how it felt to be excited about the possibilities of rock n' roll, remember the old days of Sub-Pop—Oh, Sub-Pop!—and read on to find out why Ryan Creed still laments the social death of tiki furniture and leopard-print everything.

RYAN CREED

Viva Radio: Being a child of the '80s, and spending my more formative years in the '90s, I can't say enough about your efforts to keep the music alive. How old are you?

Ryan Creed: OK, I have something embarrassing to admit - I’m 28, which technically makes me Generation Y! I know, I know…but my Gen X older sister indoctrinated me with riot grrrl and Pavement at a very early age. That’s probably why I idealize the '90s more than an actual Gen X'er; I was too sheltered from the reality of those heady Identity Politics days. Of course if I was a Gen X'er I’d probably have AIDS by 28, which I don’t say to be funny, but just to put in perspective about how not everything in the '90s were as wonderful as I remember them.

VR: Unless I'm mistaken, MTV's 120 Minutes is the original inspiration for 120 Minutes Forever, right? We're you glued to the TV back when it aired? Who was your favorite host—I must admit that I loved Matt Pinfield and kind of wish that I could have hosted an episode of 120 Minutes with him!

RC: 120 Minutes was on so late on Sunday night that the only way I could watch it was to sneak downstairs when my parents were asleep, or just set the VCR to record and then watch it next morning. Back then you had to record things because you never knew when – or even if – MTV would re-air Hole’s “Miss World” or the Geraldine Fibbers again. And, you know, for kids who loved music but had no access to the physical products or the music communities, 120 Minutes and Alternative Nation were the only things we had.

And duh, of course Pinfield was the best. But I always liked when bands like Babes in Toyland hosted, because no one knew how to read cue cards and it was always really stilted and awkward.

VR: My family didn't get cable until I was nearly 14, and I remember being so in love with the idea of MTV. You holding out any hope that MTV might bring back the music video?

RC: I think half of my conversations today are about how awesome MTV used to be. You had Kennedy as a VJ, weird MTV spots of Jimmy the Cab Driver, Fashionably Loud featuring Vivienne Westwood and Elastica, and Courtney Love throwing compacts at Madonna. I mean, MTV News actually covered Kelley Deal getting arrested for possession! I have heard rumors that MTV is digitizing their entire archive – called “the Vault” – and planning to make it available to old-heads like me. There’s this really great documentary called, “The Target Shoots First,” about a college grad’s life working for Columbia House during the 90s. I imagine his experience at Columbia House was very similar to being at MTV. Basically, young white college kids were given carte blanche to do whatever they wanted, working for companies that were desperately trying to market to “those crazy kids.” It does make me sad that kids don’t understand the pure joy of sitting in your living room with friends watching hours upon hours of music videos…but then kids today have Youtube, and Pitchfork, and blogs, and cell phones. Pros and cons, I guess.

VR: Switching gears, how did curating a show on Viva Radio come about? Was it something that you aspired to do, or did it come about through random happenstance?

RC: I was actually recommended to Viva Radio. I was pretty well-known in NYC for being completely obsessed with the early '90s, and I had DJ'ed a bunch of '90s theme parties.

(PIC)

VR: How long have you been doing the show? You have any favorite "episodes"? What do your parents think?

RC: I’ve been doing this about a year, and my definite favorite show ever is the "Lounge Revival" show – with bands like the Combustible Edison and Stereolab. Everyone forgets that there was a brief moment in American pop culture when it was cool to be obsessed with tiki furniture and leopard print, which was then perverted into the Nu-Swing era. I’d rather not talk about that dark period.

Do my parents listen to the show? HA! I don’t even think they know about it. Seriously, I’m still so angsty that I immediately revert to a teenager when I’m around them. “Leave me alone, MOM. I’ll dress the way I want to dress!”

VR: What's your process for putting the show together?

RC: I work by myself. I mean, the sad reality is that I pretty much listen to this music regardless of whether or not I’m programming the show.

VR: Word on the street is that you live in Brooklyn, can you confirm or deny these accusations?

RC: Well, I’m from Ohio, but I went to college in New York about 10 years ago, and live in Brooklyn now. I guess Brooklyn is cool and it’s good for work, but I’ve learned that whether you’re in Ohio or NY, 98% of the people you meet totally suck. I think if I was a native New Yorker I’d be better adjusted, but I remember thinking how bizarre it was to meet native New Yorkers who couldn’t relate to my teen life sitting at the mall waiting to be picked up by my parents or hanging out in a school parking lot after-hours because there was nothing better to do. In fact, my favorite people in New York are the high school outcasts who were so alienated by the suburbs that they had no other choice but to move to the "Big City". Of course, with the internet, I guess that doesn’t happen as often – or least the “NY or death!” mentality isn’t as extreme.

VR: Do you make any music or art yourself, do you write?

RC: I’m a writer by trade and am currently a total sell-out at a major corporation. I’ve been trying to keep up my personal blog about how I’ll be alone forever – www.yourlovehurtsme.com – but I’m too depressed for motivation.



VR: You ever dream of bringing 120 Minutes Forever to TV, or have any other big dreams or plans for the show?

RC: OK, my big dream is to start a whole line of early '90s products – Like "Bull in the Heather" perfume or “I’m with Tino” tee shirts. I think there’s a market for it!

VR: Speaking of dreams and memories, there are certain records that stick with certain experiences in my life—I remember when I was 18 driving from my parent's home in Wisconsin all the way to Vancouver, BC by myself in a Saab hatchback. During the 3-day drive I specifically remember listening to Bob Marley's "Redemption Song", Suicide Machine's entire Destruction by Definition album, Urge Overkill's "Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon", and Dinosaur Jr.'s "Feel the Pain," over and over and over and over and over again. To this day, when I think of any state west of North Dakota either Bob Marley & The Wailers or Dinosaur Jr. start playing in my head. Immediately. Any songs, records, or experiences have that effect on you?

RC: You listened to Bob Marley’s Legend?!?!?! HA!!!!

The songs that take me back to high school and are always unpredictable. It’s never albums like Last Splash or Live Through This, because I still listen to those. It’s always songs like the Meatpuppets’ “Backwater” or Live’s “Selling the Drama” that immediately timewarp me to my friend’s shag-carpeted basement when I was 13. And more pop-oriented, hearing Dionne Farris’ “I Know” totally makes me think about just driving around Ohio with my friends and listening to the radio because my car’s tape deck was broken. But the weirdest sensation is “the mix tape effect” where I hear a song that was on a mix tape that I used to listen to and immediately hear, in my head, the song that was supposed to come next.

Oh, the memories...A big thanks to Ryan Creed. Keep your eyes and ears peeled for the next installment of 120 Minutes Forever, here on Viva Radio! All of you investors out there who are still fiending for some '90s gear—get in touch with Mr. Creed. We smell a business opportunity.

Outside of "Reagan-omics" and a few hiccups and bumps in the pop-culture road, there aren't too many bad things that we can say about the '80s. We spent our youngest and most formative years fighting for the radio-dial and cassette privileges with our older brothers, arguing that the Crüe were indeed better than Depeche Mode, (boy, were we wrong...), when, in fact, they both rocked in their own separate ways. In a funny twist of fate, we now often find ourselves in the exact same battle. But this time we're on the opposite side of the argument. Today, there's very little that we can find wrong with any of Depeche Mode's voluminous catalog—they were genius and have literally created a genre, more or less. Really, what we're trying to say is that regardless of which band's catalog was bigger and more prevalent at the time, or later in the future, the '80s were a phenomenal time for music—particularly music with synthesizers.

And today, many artists are digging out those old "analog" machines to tamper with them and relearn the tricks of the trade that were lost and passed on in the age of digital sampling and backing tracks. One such group is just now breaking ground. They are Moscow's Tesla Boy, a synth-driven pop quartet. And, although you can follow their musical heritage back to the days of New Wave, et al. like you could follow the breed-stock of a prize-winning pony back to it's greatest-grandfather, there is very little one could say to take away from the sheer, dreamy sensationalism of their music.

We would argue that great music, regardless of its obvious predecessors and influences, is timeless. If Whitney Houston were to have released "How Will I Know" in the summer of 2009, instead of the summer of 1985, there is very little doubt in our minds that that song would have hit the top of the charts in record time today. Just like it did in '85. It was a product of its time, no doubt, and it owed much to its predecessors. But regardless, it was one hell of a track. In much the same way, Tesla Boy has managed to completely capture a sound so perfectly created in the dreamy cloud-pop of 1980s Southern California; complete with Malibu sunsets, rushing waves, and denim jacket-clad, Porsche-driving, awe-inspiring blondes. But they've done more than just capture the sound. They've managed to make new songs that are just as relevant today as they would have been back then. Which is that much more impressive when you think about the fact that they are from Russia and almost 20 years behind the original synth wave.

We like to think of Tesla Boy's "Runaway Man" as our own personal Way-Back Machine, letting our imaginations run, helping us to take comfort in our dreams. So go ahead press play, put it on repeat, and sit back and dream of what it was like to be a kid, feet buried in the sand, sitting on the beach at sunset with your car stereo soothing your troubled mind, and your best girl just an arm's-length away...