Musically speaking, in the 1990s, several things became abundantly clear. First and foremost – rock and roll was dead. At least as a popular genre, it simply no longer mattered. It’s true that upstart sub-genres like grunge and punk and whatever your understanding of “indie” entails, injected life into the wider genre. But rock’s days of being the dominant musical influence in the Western world had come and gone.
On the rare occasion that a rock and roll act climbed to the top of the charts during the 1990s, it was invariably when they stepped outside their chosen genre and released an often-sappy, sentimental ballad. That’s how Extreme got there with “More Than Words, (as opposed to, say, the more representative “Get the Funk Out”).
Blond gods Nelson went softer on “Love and Affection,” and got their number one. The rare blips of genuine alt-rock – like Lisa Loeb’s “Stay” or Barenaked Ladies’ “One Week” - lingered in some type of pop rock middle-world. They were anomalies.
Ten worst number-one songs of the 1990s
There was one rock and roll artist who had great popular success in the 1990s, and we’ll get to him by the end. He, in many ways, is the poster child for the diminution of rock as a dominant cultural trend. (How’s that for a teaser?)
There were other fascinating developments that roared to life during the ‘90s. For one thing, there were fewer number-one hits, by a wide margin, than there had been in previous decades. That’s because the 1990s were the decade of monster-long runs for popular songs at the top of the charts. Before the decade, a run of more than four weeks atop the pop chart was considered exceptional. In the ‘90s, there were more than ten songs that had weeks atop the charts that extended into double digits.
This seemed counterintuitive at first glance. Production and distribution avenues were actually becoming more accessible to all artists. As Wired Magazine’s Chris Anderson wrote in 2004, the “long tail” was supposed to open up the recording industry to everyone.
But in hindsight, all it did was flood the market with so much product that it became even more important to be affiliated with a deep pocketed label. That’s the only way artists could rise above the din. And that, at least in part, led to more power actually being concentrated in fewer hands.
Still, each week, some song had to be number one, and if rock and roll was not going to supply its fair share of product, who would? By the end of the decade, hip-hop had begun filling the gap. Rap had its first big moment in the mid-‘90s when Tupac, Biggie, and Puff Daddy (as he was known at the time) took over the charts for a while. The death of two of those artists slowed the ascendency for a little while, but hip-hop was clearly on the rise.
And so were the ladies. It’s not as if women were invisible prior to the ‘90s. Whitney Houston emerged in the mid-‘80s and was followed by Janet Jackson later in the decade. Both scored major chart-topping singles in the 1980s and continued that trend into the new decade. They were joined by two of the best-selling recording artists the pop charts have ever seen – Celine Dion and Mariah Carey.
Carey alone released fifteen songs in the 1990s that would eventually rise to the top of the charts. Those songs accounted for 73 weeks at the top, though those weeks weren’t necessarily confined to the 1990s. Even if you eliminate Carey’s ’90s recordings that made it to number one in later decades, she still accounted for more than a full year’s worth of number-one songs in the 1990s.
And it wasn’t simply a handful of big-name women scoring chart-toppers. Toni Braxton, Brandy Norwood and Monica Arnold all had multiple number ones in the ‘90s. Monica and Brandy’s duet “The Boy is Mine” was THE song of the summer of ’98, staying on top for 13 weeks.
Nor was it merely the solo females. TLC had a string of top-flight singles that made it to number one. Another female trio rose to prominence late in the decade with a couple of chart-toppers. Destiny’s Child didn’t have quite as many number ones as TLC, but they had something that proved even more important. They had Beyonce Knowles.
So, there was a lot of good, innovative popular music in the 1990s. But there also a lot of – how shall I put it? – less appealing fare. If you read my last piece on the worst number-ones of the 1980s, you know that I consider that decade to be the absolute nadir of pop music. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the lion’s share of awful ‘90s number ones comes very early in the decade. 1990-1992 were still trapped in an ‘80s hangover, where maudlin big ballads were smothered by strings and tinny, lifeless synths. And for some reason, people snapped it up.
I could easily create a ten-worst list from 1990 alone, but in the interest of diversity, I will spread things out just a bit. And by “a bit,” I mean just a couple of songs from later in the decade. The early ‘90s remain well-represented.
And I will eschew any kind of honorable mentions since I’ve waxed synthetic too long already. So let’s dive right in on the ten worst songs to reach number one in the 1990s.
10. "I SWEAR" by All-4-One (1994)
All-4-One’s “I Swear” is one of those songs that stayed at number for more than ten weeks. Throughout most of the Summer of 1994, the California R&B harmonizers held onto the peak of the charts with this treacly pledge of everlasting love.
To be fair, “I Swear” has a decent chorus, which opens the song. Usually, that alone would be enough to exclude a song from this type of list. But once the verse begins and the lead singer begins to pledge his devotion, things take a most distressing turn. (I think I am borrowing that phrase from J Peterman.)
I don’t know who is singing that first verse, but his voice is too tortured and whiny to take the lead. It really shows up because the harmony on that decent chorus is significantly better. Though a different voice picks up the second verse, that whiny screech keeps returning. It’s so incongruous because these guys can sing. They just had the wrong lead voice.
The generic strings don’t help, nor does the sax which merely piles on top of the mix. The song gets busier and busier as it goes on until it is hard to identify the actual melody. Country singer John Michael Montgomery had already recorded a country-pop version earlier in ’94. It doesn’t exactly make the song good, but his slightly stripped-down version at least can pass the time until something better comes along.
9. “BECAUSE I LOVE YOU (THE POSTMAN SONG) by Stevie B (1990)
The self-proclaimed savior of freestyle scored his biggest hit at the very end of 1990. And as with the All-4-One song mentioned above, I’m going to begin with a compliment. This song would have been so much better if Stevie B had performed it a cappella. There’s an OK melody and Stevie can sing, though he borders on the overly-tortured delivery that grates after a verse or two.
But he loaded it up with the most soporific strings imaginable and with the requisite tinkling piano playing counterpoint to the vocal. I can handle the piano. But those strings? Sorry. I suspect they put people to sleep. They certainly did nothing to make them dance which was Stevie’s usual modus operandi. The same guy who did “Spring Love” and “Party Your Body” should never be doing something this sleepy. And if he does, he should do it without the benefit of strings.
8. “I DON’T HAVE THE HEART” by James Ingram (1990)
Speaking of awful arrangements… Those same swirling strings and anonymous keyboards flood an even worse song by a good singer. I mean, this guy sang “Baby, Come to Me” with Patti Austin. That’s a James Ingram song that shows off his voice to max effect. But “I Don’t Have the Heart” may be taken literally here. Ingram wrote and produced it with Thom Bell, one of the best soul producers of the ‘70s and ‘80s, but this song just lies there, and all the strings and harps and pianos in the world can’t wake it up.
In the middle of the second verse, Ingram begins pushing the vocals in an attempt to make the song come to life. He comes close. It’s not his best vocal, but in a better song, it would be just fine. But OMG, whenever there’s a sign of life, here come those incredibly heavy-handed strings to smother things.
Then, in the final minute, out of nowhere, the song turns electric with a fairly ordinary guitar solo. It’s the best part of the song, but it is so incongruous that it makes you wonder what Bell and Ingram were going for. As it fades out, you’re kind of left with a mishmash.
7. “THE FIRST TIME” by Surface (1991)
How much of a sin is it to be completely forgettable? Surface hit number one in the winter of 1991 with the most generic of songs. They were a fairly generic pop vocal trio who sang gentle, understated songs about love and devotion.
Every Surface song I have ever heard sounds the exact same. The same shimmering orchestrations. The same sweet harmonies. I actually admire the fact that with the exception of “You Are My Everything,” they tend to keep those saccharine strings and whispery vocals to a minimum. There is nothing special about most of Surface’s discography, nor is there much that is disturbing.
None of their songs were strong enough to hit the top of the charts, but I really have trouble understanding why “The First Time” was the one that did it. There is scarcely a melody. The lyrics are fairly standard stuff. The verse’s couplets don’t even rhyme.
I have never been able to identify anything special about the song. It is almost instantly forgettable. I’ll admit that when I was compiling this list, I listened to it once, and then – literally two hours later – listened to it again because I forgot I had heard it. I still could not hum a couple of bars. Maybe that’s the secret to the song’s success. For a song about the first time you fall in love, it is always as if you are listening to the song for the first time. It’s that forgettable.
6. “ROMANTIC” by Karyn White (1991)
Karyn White is the only female vocalist on this list. The rest is a boys club. Women were making great strides in conquering pop music during the 1990s, and I suppose the most positive way to view White is as an example of equality. She proved that women could have outsized success with boring, mundane music just like the boys could.
Late in the ‘80s, White was putting out some fairly generic dance music. It was competent, but only modestly successful. In 1991, she put out yet another dance album with some modest tracks, but one of them – the lead track – exploded. It had lyrics that barely qualified – “Ooh, baby baby – I want to get romantic – Ooh, turn the lights down – It’s time to get romantic.”
This is essentially a newer dance version of Olivia Newton John’s “Physical” with none of Olivia’s kind of dorky charm. Or Barry White without the seductive languor. This is essentially a soft-centered anthem in which a woman is giving instructions to her “baby.” It mostly comes off as bossy and redundant, which granted, may match many a listener’s experience of the “romantic.” But I can’t think of many songs that are less inherently romantic than “Romantic.”
5. THE R KELLY BODY OF WORK
We come to the first of our decade-achievement awards with the most problematic figure of ‘90’s pop. Robert Sylvester Kelly is currently serving 31 years in prison on a variety of charges centered on the sexual abuse of minors over many years when he was a hit-making machine for Jive and RCA. I admit, I have a hard time separating the musician from the felon, but I will try.
“You Are Not Alone” (1995) was Michael Jackson’s final number-one record as a solo performer. It is also the most lifeless song he ever recorded. R. Kelly wrote it. “I’m Your Angel” (1998) is the dullest number-one song that Celine Dion was ever involved with. It’s an R. Kelly original.
Neither song, by itself, may be bad enough to land on this list. They’re both just kind of boring. But when you throw in Kelly’s first chart-topper of the decade, 1994’s “Bump n’ Grind,” Kelly seals his spot.
From his opening tortured grunting – “My mind’s telling me no – But my body, my body’s telling me yes” we should realize something is off. You have to hear those “body’s.” They are wrenched from his throat in an overly dramatic wail. The prelude ends with a downward waterfall on the word “confess” – as in “there is something I must confess.” (NOTE – this was never used in court against the singer). After that opening, the shift to the smarmy chorus about seeing nothing wrong with “a little bump n’ grind” makes for a very choppy transition into the oft-repeated chorus.
The remainder of the song – almost three minutes worth is mostly that same chorus which is just designed to grind any resistance from listener or romantic conquest into the dust. Would it be as icky if we didn’t know who R Kelly was? Maybe not. But it still wouldn’t be a good song. None of the three chart-toppers with which he was involved in the ‘90s was.
4. “GOOD VIBRATIONS” by Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch (1991)
In 1980, soul singer Loleatta Holloway had a dance hit with “Love Sensation.” It’s a very solid dance staple. Holloway belts out the iconic chorus like a genuine pro. She was never really able to build on that success and toiled away through the ‘80s, scoring the occasional minor dance hit along the way. Then Mark Wahlberg, younger brother of NKOTB member Donnie, put together his own faux hip hop band called the Funky Bunch. Their first hit was a dance number that heavily sampled “Love Sensation.”
The Holloway part of the song is the only thing worth listening to. During Marky Mark’s rapping – from his opening drawn out “Yeah” to his commands to “Swing!” or “Feel the vibration,” it’s hard to tell whether Marky Mark is trying to be a serious rapper or is simply doing it all as a goof. I suspect the latter.
This song is as fake as the New Kids trying to act tough in “Hangin’ Tough.” Regardless of whether he was laughing or not, Marky Mark raked in cash and acclaim that always eluded Holloway. Wahlberg fully credited Holloway on the song – something that was not common practice at the time – and, I believe, paid her well too. His heart was in the right place, even if his voice was not.
The Funky Bunch would soon dissolve and after a few attempts at launching a solo career, Marky Mark vanished as well, replaced by the actor Mark Wahlberg. A very smart move.
3. “I’LL BE YOUR EVERYTHING” by Tommy Page (1990)
This is the fourth decade I have covered in this series and I have begun to note a pattern. For numbers 10 through five (give or take a spot or two), I have songs that I simply don’t like. I don’t think they are good songs, despite their commercial success. But when I get down to the top three or four, I arrive at songs that I simply find painful to listen to.
Tommy Page‘s “I’ll Be Your Everything” isn’t merely bad. It’s unlistenable. From the generic fern bar bass and synthetic chords that open things, through that whining sax riff that seemed trendy more than a decade earlier, we’re in a bad place. Then Page’s fluffy vocals kick in, and we descend into hell.
I have owned up to my love/hate with the New Kids, but this song is a distillation of all their worst impulses. Page wrote it with New Kids Jordan Knight and Donny Wood. Knight produced it and other NKOTB members sang background. Page sang high like Knight, but he didn’t possess the diamond sharpness of Knight’s falsetto. It’s a mushy tenor that tries to caress the song but never captures any actual romance.
Page was cute, and he sings kind of like a teddy bear, I suppose that very young audience members could find this song endearing. But I know six-year-olds who would roll their eyes at this pap. Page switched to the other side of the glass and worked as a successful music exec for many years. Tragically, he took his own life in 2017. He was 46.
2. THE MICHAEL BOLTON YEARS
Michael Bolton had been a professional songwriter for a long time but never had much success as a performer until, rather miraculously, he became one of the biggest recording artists in the world for a brief time in the early 1990s. Exactly why he became successful still baffles scholars, though there is some hope that recent advances in supercomputing and AI technology might begin to help us understand.
I have my own theory. 1990, when Bolton hit big, was quite possibly the worst year pop music has ever witnessed. It just felt like the kind of void a singer like Bolton was destined to fill.
He had two chart toppers in the ‘90s. The first, “How Am I Supposed to Live Without You,” is worse provided you don’t grade these things with historical perspective in mind. Bolton co-wrote it many years earlier and it was a hit for Laura Branigan in the early ‘80s.
Branigan’s version begins with a simple piano and her gentle vocals. She doesn’t do a great deal with the song at the beginning, allowing the melody and the emotion to build at an organic pace. By the time she hits the chorus, she is able to stretch a bit more.
But when Bolton did it, that piano is now synthesized and fake. As for the vocal, Bolton is chewing scenery from the first note. He is overwrought before he is anywhere near the big chorus. That in turn forces him to go beyond overwrought. All performed over the fake-sounding synth chords. Then, in what I assume is an attempt to sound cool, an electric guitar appears for a short, generic solo which also gets swallowed up by the rest of the mix.
Bolton’s other number one – a cover of Percy Sledge’s “When a Man Loves a Woman” – is arguably better simply because it’s a better song. But Bolton’s over-the-top performance may qualify as a greater crime against music if you consider what he did to Sledge’s original.
1. BRYAN ADAMS AND THE DEATH OF ROCK AND ROLL
Let’s get this out of the way. Bryan Adams was capable of doing actual rock and roll. “Summer of ‘69” and “Run to You” may not be your favorites, but they are actual rock songs. But he wasn’t conquering the world with decent rockers. So he started recording some of the most anguished “rock” ballads you will ever hear.
He had flirted with this sound in the mid-‘80s with “Heaven,” his first number one. But he doubled, tripled and quadrupled down with “(Everything I Do) I Do It For You” in 1991. His ragged vocal passed for high emotion. You know it because the piano grew more majestic when he sang the chorus. It is a totally inert song that makes you want to get Adams a throat lozenge.
I think “I Do It For You” is Adams’ worst song, but his final number one, the Latin-tinged “Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman” (1995) comes close. There’s a total disconnect between the Flamenco verse and the sing-song chorus. OK – maybe not a total disconnect, because that guitar still lingers throughout, even when the mix goes electric on the bridge. But that kind of makes it worse.
Between those two songs, he teamed up with Rod Stewart and Sting to record “All For Love.” It is not the worst Bryan Adams song, but it is quite possibly the worst song – at least a popular song – that either Stewart or Sting was ever involved with. I suppose that’s a notable achievement.
I want to stress at this point that though many of those maudlin love ballads with the lifeless arrangements fill up my list, I am not averse to romance. Give me a Boyz II Men song any day of the week and I can listen to it. Even “One Sweet Day,” which I think was the worst number one from both Boyz II Men and Mariah Carey. But I can listen to it. (So could everyone else in the ‘90s – “One Sweet Day” was number one for 16 weeks.)