This week In ’90s Throwback’ 06/52

1 . Ben Harper . Whipping Boy

“Love Is a Losing Game” from Amy Winehouse’s 2006 album “Back to Black” unfolds like a slow burn in dim lights—a ballad of heartbreak stripped to its raw essentials.

As the fifth and final single from an album teeming with drama, it neither clamors for attention nor insists on grandeur, which perhaps explains its subtle performance on the UK Singles Chart—peaking modestly at number 33. This four-week residency on the Top 100 feels fitting for a song more attuned to private weeping than public acclaim.

The track wields simplicity as its strongest weapon. Its structure is uncluttered, the melody aching but understated, leaving Winehouse’s voice to smolder against the sparseness. The lyrics paint love as a futile wager, but their resonance lies in their clarity—they won the 2008 Ivor Novello Award for Best Song Musically and Lyrically, a nod that speaks to their delicate craftsmanship rather than bombastic sentiment.

Yet “Love Is a Losing Game” gains much of its life through live renditions. At the 2007 Mercury Prize and 2008 BRIT Awards, Winehouse’s performances lent the song a visceral immediacy. Its echoes reached across stages, with Prince covering it during his own marathon at The O2 alongside Winehouse herself—a rare alignment of two singular artists drowned in their respective melancholies.

Though its accompanying music videos—a montage and a live rendition from her “I Told You I Was Trouble” DVD—avoid unnecessary embellishment, neither captures the ephemeral intimacy of the demo version included on the deluxe edition of “Back to Black.” Just Winehouse and her guitar: it’s the barest and quite possibly the truest distillation of the song’s intent.

Later revisited by artists like Sam Smith in 2015, “Love Is a Losing Game” finds itself occasionally transplanted but never quite displaced. Its inclusion in the 2015 documentary “Amy” only anchors it further as both eulogy and encapsulation of Winehouse’s artistry: understated but unforgettable, much like the shadows it casts.

Lifted from : Virgin publish Ben Harper’s debut album . ‘Welcome to the Cruel World’ (1994)

2 . Brandy . Baby

“Bad Girls (Verdine Version)” from Solange’s 2012 EP, “True,” operates as a sleek intersection of neo-soul and PBR&B, borrowing liberally from ’80s revivalism without getting lost in the haze of nostalgia.

The presence of Verdine White, Earth, Wind & Fire’s bassist, is instantly felt; his funk-heavy bass line strums the backbone of the track while the occasional shimmer of synths creates a retro sheen. Co-written and co-produced by Solange and Dev Hynes, the song feels like a private conversation that somehow made its way into a club setting—it’s confessional, sure, but not without an arched eyebrow.

The EP on which this track resides had a geographically restless birth, recorded over two years in locales from Santa Barbara to the German autobahn. This patchwork process is mirrored in the song’s layered textures, which feel stitched together with meticulous care. The bass grooves are immediate, almost tactile, while the background vocals from Hynes lend the track a fleeting sense of intimacy.

It’s not all triumph, though. For all its unapologetic cool, the song occasionally feels hemmed in by its influences, hovering just shy of a full emotional catharsis. Anchored by understatement, it risks drifting off into mood music territory rather than commanding a full frontal engagement.

Part of an EP that debuted at 157 on the Billboard 200 and charted modestly in countries like Denmark and Sweden, the track carries a quiet confidence. Its live promotion, including a San Francisco stop in 2013, likely spotlighted its tonal nuances better than the recording does.

Ultimately, “Bad Girls (Verdine Version)” feels more like a cerebral nod to the past than a visceral leap forward, its charms unfolding slowly but not always decisively.

Lifted from : Happy Birthday Brandy

3 . Whitney Houston . It’s Not Right But It’s Okay

Released as the lead single from Norah Jones’s 2004 album “Feels Like Home,” “Sunrise” blends quiet restraint with a vaguely pastoral charm that nods toward folk balladry without overcommitting to any particular sense of place.

The song’s modest chart performance—peaking at number four in Canada and number 30 in the UK while entirely bypassing the US Billboard Hot 100—belies its later certification as a gold single by the RIAA, a reminder that commercial visibility doesn’t always mirror actual sales or cultural reach.

Co-written and co-produced by Jones and Lee Alexander, the track leans heavily on its sparse arrangement, perhaps too heavily, as it straddles the line between meditative and sleep-inducing.

The lyrics—delicate but often indistinct—seem designed more to conjure a mood than tell a story, a choice that works better in theory than execution here.

Still, Jones’s vocals imbue the song with a warmth that justifies its Grammy win for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance in 2005, even if the performance itself never quite transcends the limitations of its concept.

With “Moon Song” tucked away on its B-side and the music video available online, “Sunrise” functions more as an artifact of Jones’s early-2000s ubiquity than as a track that demands revisitation on its own terms.

Its brief three-week stay on both the UK Official Singles Chart and the Official Physical Singles Chart in April 2004 positions it as an ephemeral success rather than a lasting statement.

Lifted from : We remember Whitney Houston. ‘Without Whitney’

4 . D’Angelo . Brown Sugar

“Strong Enough” from Sheryl Crow’s debut album, “Tuesday Night Music Club,” carries a quiet, reflective intimacy that sets it apart from the more upbeat tracks on the same record.

Released as a single on November 15, 1994, this ballad found traction with audiences, climbing to number five on the US Billboard Hot 100 chart and hanging there for three weeks—no small feat amid the pop-drenched ’90s landscape.

It fared even better internationally, reaching number three in Australia with a double-platinum certification and topping the Canadian charts.

Co-written by Crow alongside Bill Bottrell, David Baerwald, Kevin Gilbert, and Brian MacLeod, the song reflects a collaborative ethos that defines much of the album, but its somber tone feels uniquely personal.

Bill Bottrell’s production leans into a spare, stripped-back quality, lending Crow’s vocals a stark vulnerability. The accompanying black-and-white music video, directed by Martin Bell, mirrors this simplicity, placing Crow in an empty room—a visual austerity that complements the song’s emotional core.

Even as “Strong Enough” blends seamlessly within “Tuesday Night Music Club,” its chart performance suggests a broader appeal, navigating adult contemporary spaces with ease, as shown by its number three position on the Billboard Adult Contemporary chart and number eight on the Mainstream Top 40.

Its inclusion in Crow’s live album “Sheryl Crow and Friends: Live from Central Park” and the greatest hits compilation “The Very Best of Sheryl Crow” cements its enduring position within her repertoire.

If there’s a criticism to be made, it’s that the song’s confessional tone could drift into the overly earnest, especially when paired with the album’s lighter tracks.

Yet, its success—both commercially and as a certified gold single in the US—speaks to its resonance, managing to thread the needle between pain and relatability without overstaying its welcome. While the track encapsulates its original era, the 2023 release of a remastered video reaffirms its quiet staying power three decades on.

Lifted from : Happy Birthday D’Angelo

5 . Erykah Badu . Other Side Of The Game

Samantha Fish’s rendition of “I Put A Spell On You” reconstructs Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’s 1956 classic into a fiery blues-rock palette that leans heavily on intensity and texture. Released on October 6, 2024, it slides seamlessly into the darker realms of Fish’s evolving sound, capturing her penchant for theatrics without veering into parody.

The track thrives on her trademark guitar work, which drips with aggression yet retains a razor-edged precision. Her vocals, steeped in raw emotion, bring a fresh urgency to the song’s already haunted bones. It’s not an imitation of Hawkins’s gloriously unhinged original nor Nina Simone’s mournful reinterpretation—it’s closer to a recalibration of its emotional temperature, trading a frenzied desperation for a smoldering defiance.

That theatricality Fish admires in the song takes center stage here, yet what she adds in production polish she occasionally loses in unfiltered grit. While her soloing skills remain untouchable, the overall arrangement plays it a bit safe—more about showcasing her technical prowess than pushing the song into unexplored territory. It feels less like summoning a spell and more like recounting it from memory.

Coming off her 2023 collaborative record with Jesse Dayton, “Death Wish Blues,” (a Billboard Blues Chart-topper for three weeks), this release bookends a storied couple of years for Fish. Sharing stages with luminaries like Eric Clapton and opening for The Rolling Stones cements her stature in blues circles, yet this track seems more like a calculated statement of her competence than a groundbreaking addition to her catalog.

Make no mistake: as a single leading into a European tour heralded by stops in Birmingham, Germany, and Holland, it achieves its goal of priming her audience with familiar yet impactful material. Whether it sticks in the memory as vividly as her live shows—or her stint on the Experience Hendrix Tour with heavyweights like Kenny Wayne Shepherd and Christone “Kingfish” Ingram—is another matter entirely.

Lifted from : Erykah Badu releases her debut album . ‘Baduizm’ featuring ‘On . On’, ‘Next Lifetime’, ‘Otherside of the Game’ and ‘Appletree’ (1997)

6 . Sheryl Crow . My Favorite Mistake

“Babyfather,” the second single from Sade’s “Soldier of Love,” crafts a sonic tableau that feels both tender and calculated, released into the airwaves on April 13, 2010.

The participation of Ila Adu and Clay Matthewman for backing vocals adds a personal layer, but their contributions feel more like a footnote to the polished artistry than an integral texture.

Stuart Matthewman’s dual role on saxophone and guitar provides moments of intrigue, attempting to merge the lush soundscapes with jazzy accents, though it never fully breaks new ground.

Sade Adu’s vocal delivery—a mix of languid smoothness and understated precision—is undeniably the anchor, yet it skirts emotional immediacy, occasionally feeling more polished than poignant.

The track sits at an unremarkable number 53 on the US Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs chart but finds a more fitting home at number 10 on the US Smooth Jazz Songs chart, a telling indicator of its stylistic leanings.

Director Sophie Muller’s music video, unveiled on May 4, 2010, opts for restrained aesthetics, complementing the song’s ethos without challenging it, much like the live performances on talk shows such as “The Tonight Show with Jay Leno” and “Dancing with the Stars.”

Nominated for Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocal at the 53rd Grammy Awards, “Babyfather” flaunts its technical know-how yet struggles to leave an indelible mark.

Lifted from : Happy Birthday Sheryl Crow

7 . The Black Crowes . Hard To Handle

“Bullet Holes in the Sky” finds Mary Gauthier balancing quiet introspection with biting critique, reflective of its origins in “Rifles and Rosary Beads,” a 2018 album steeped in the lived experiences of veterans.

Co-written with Jamie Trent—a Navy veteran—under the auspices of SongwritingWith:Soldiers, the track doesn’t simply nod to the surface-level patriotism of waving flags and perfunctory salutes. Instead, it scrutinizes them, casting a long shadow over Veterans Day platitudes. Lines like “They thank me for my service and wave those little flags / They genuflect on Sundays and yes, they’d send us back” dissect the hollowness of ceremonial gratitude, pulling no punches in their appraisal of societal indifference.

The song has appeared in both recorded and live formats, including performances at McCabe’s on February 21, 2015, and the Briggs Opera House on November 8, 2018, underscoring its adaptability in different settings. Yet the live renditions, while emotionally charged, sometimes highlight the limitations of a melody that leans heavily on its stark, deliberate pacing. Musically, the understated arrangement supports the lyrical weight, but it risks monotony in repeated listens, depending entirely on the potency of Gauthier’s delivery.

There’s an official video accompanying this work, amplifying its themes. Still, the song’s strength resides in how it strips away pretense, laying bare a truth too often cloaked in sentimentality. It’s less an anthem and more an elegy, questioning not just the treatment of veterans but the conscience of a nation content with symbolic gestures over substantive change.

Lifted from : The Black Crowes play before the destruction (1993)

8 . U2 . Discotheque

“Somebody to Love” by Valerie June, nestled within her 2013 album “Pushin’ Against a Stone,” radiates both simplicity and soulful craftsmanship.

Anchored by the light pluck of her banjolele, affectionately nicknamed “The Baby,” the track feels like a direct conversation with June’s Tennessee roots, shaped by gospel, soul, and blues traditions.

While the album reached a modest peak of number 56 on the UK Official Albums Chart, its stronger resonance is found on the UK Official Jazz & Blues Albums Chart, where it comfortably lingered for 38 weeks, claiming the number 6 spot at its highest.

This longevity speaks to its appeal within a niche audience, rather than a broad populist acclaim.

June’s vocals carry an affecting, almost fragile texture. Yet, for all the intimacy the song strives to achieve, some might find its sparseness bordering on overly delicate, leaving the listener craving a richer instrumental or vocal dynamic to underscore its emotional weight.

A notable feature of “Somebody to Love” is its connection to June’s storytelling in live performances, where she recounts the origins of her banjolele, later immortalized in her picture book of the same name.

Viewed in the context of “Pushin’ Against a Stone,” a release under Sunday Best Recordings, the song highlights June’s careful balancing act between authenticity and accessibility.

However, placed alongside other tracks on the album, which blend soul, blues, and rock with greater intensity, “Somebody to Love” can feel like an interlude rather than a centerpiece—a fleeting moment of intimacy amidst more robust offerings.

Lifted from : U2 travel to Chile (1998)

9 . Tin Machine . Go Now

“Jazzman” from Carole King’s 1974 album “Wrap Around Joy” plays less like an anthem and more like an affectionate nod to musical camaraderie.

Co-written with David Palmer, formerly of Steely Dan, its lyrical simplicity skirts close to pastiche, yet manages to stay grounded, buoyed by King’s steady vocal warmth.

The true soul of the track lies in Tom Scott’s saxophone solos, which meander with a lushness that’s equal parts homage and indulgence, elevating the song beyond its lyrical confines.

Employing Curtis Amy—the late saxophonist and Ray Charles band alum—as its muse, “Jazzman” positions itself as an ode, though the sentiment may feel more earnest than revelatory.

Chart success was no small feat, with the song reaching #2 on the Billboard Hot 100 and #4 on the easy listening chart, though it begs the question whether its climb was propelled more by King’s name than by the song’s intrinsic qualities.

New York’s WABC Musicradio 77 Survey awarded it local supremacy, topping the chart in November of that year—a nod to King’s hometown allure.

It garnered a Grammy nomination for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance, though its merit as a technical vocal standout remains arguable.

Resurrected on “The Simpsons” in “‘Round Springfield,” its duet with Yeardley Smith as Lisa Simpson lends the song a second life as animated nostalgia, an ironic twist considering its heaviness in live concert tributes, including one at the White House alongside saxophonist Crispin Cioe.

“Jazzman” exudes charm without excess, though some might find its overreliance on saxophone interludes a tradeoff for depth in its songwriting.

Lifted from : David Bowie brings Tin Machine to Tokyo (1992)

10 . Soundgarden . Spoonman

“Try” by P!nk carries the bruised defiance that often defines her work, slotting perfectly into the energy of her sixth album, “The Truth About Love,” released in 2012.

Originally crafted by Busbee and Ben West under their GoNorthToGoSouth project, the song found its dynamic reinvention under producer Greg Kurstin, balancing raw intensity with a polished sound. It’s both taut and vulnerable, pairing P!nk’s gravelly vocals with lyrics that tread the jagged terrain of resilience—a hallmark she wears well, but not without some fatigue.

Commercially, “Try” makes its mark; climbing to number one in Spain and Slovakia and elbowing its way into top-10 spots across numerous countries, including Germany and New Zealand, the track is unavoidable but not groundbreaking. In the U.S., it lands comfortably at ninth on the Billboard Hot 100, a respectable addition to P!nk’s catalog of thirteen top-10s, though its staying power feels more like a feature of her brand than the song itself.

The Floria Sigismondi-directed video uproots subtlety altogether, plunging into a visceral depiction of a tormented relationship. P!nk and Colt Prattes enact an almost combative choreography, equal parts Cirque du Soleil and emotional blowout. This physicality secured critical applause, performing high-octane gestures that translated well onto stages like the 2012 American Music Awards, where a rain-soaked audience rose to its feet, sentimentality dripping alongside the sweat.

The song’s longevity creeps forward—it resurfaced in P!nk’s 2019 Brit Awards medley, where another drenched stage moment reiterated “Try”’s penchant for theatrical melodrama. By July 2013, its 2 million U.S. sales reflected its resonance, even if the song itself feels content to tread familiar ground rather than advance it. It’s a performance piece as much as it is a song, thriving on spectacle but losing nuance in the process.

Lifted from : Japanese TV tapes Soundgarden (1994)

11 . Red Hot Chili Peppers . My Friends

Rhiannon Giddens’ take on “She’s Got You” is as much a homage as it is a statement of her own artistry.

Originally penned by Hank Cochran and immortalized by Patsy Cline in 1962, the song carries the weight of its chart-topping legacy, with Cline’s version soaring to number 1 on the Hot C&W Sides country chart and making respectable dents on the Billboard Hot 100 and Easy Listening chart.

Giddens, performing the track live at WFUV on February 11, 2015, treats this country torch song with a deft mixture of reverence and reinvention, a balance she maintains throughout her 2015 album “Tomorrow Is My Turn,” produced by T Bone Burnett.

The live performance, which later found its way to YouTube, strips down to the essentials, allowing Giddens’ voice—a supple instrument that neither mimics nor overshadows Cline’s—to command attention.

Her vocal delivery is steeped in both the traditional and the modern, blending subtle nods to the song’s country roots with her own folk and blues sensibilities.

It’s this ability to traverse musical borders that likely propelled the album to the top of the US Billboard Folk Albums chart, alongside placements on the US Billboard 200 and UK Albums chart.

The production by Burnett on the studio version underscores this duality, offering arrangements that don’t distract from Giddens but instead amplify her quiet intensity.

Unlike the grandiose productions of the early ‘60s, Giddens’ take feels unhurried, thoughtful, and precise, though it’s hard to ignore the shadow cast by Cline’s indelible rendition.

While Giddens’ version doesn’t redefine the song, it doesn’t need to; it proves she can inhabit it with her own voice, a skillful reinterpretation that fits snugly into a project that celebrates reinterpretation itself.

Lifted from : Red Hot Chili Peppers occupy the Garden (1996)

12 . Nirvana . Rape Me

“Solitude Standing,” the title track from Suzanne Vega’s sophomore album, embodies a quiet, almost aloof presence that mirrors the very concept it seeks to personify: solitude as a woman, an intricate “third character in a relationship.”

Crafted with her backing band, including Michael Visceglia on bass, Anton Sanko on synthesizer, Marc Shulman on electric guitar, and Stephen Ferrera on drums and percussion, the song feels more like a measured conversation than a melodramatic plea. Vega’s vocals, paired with her acoustic guitar, carry an unaffected calm, an approach that sits at a deliberate distance from pop’s more overt gestures of the time.

Though its commercial performance was modest—peaking at number 94 on the US Billboard Hot 100 and slightly better in New Zealand, where it reached number 45—its subtlety may well have been its undoing on the charts. Songs that demand patience rarely thrive in the immediacy of pop culture; here, Vega places ambiance over urgency.

The track’s subdued arrangement leans heavily on textures rather than hooks, with Sanko’s synthesizer serving more as an atmospheric layer than a melodic centerpiece. Shulman’s electric guitar adds faint traces of tension, though it often teeters on being too minimal to leave a lasting impression. One might argue that the restraint borders on restraint for its own sake, leaving certain passages feeling inert rather than evocative.

The accompanying music video and later live performances, such as her 2014 concert in Munich, help flesh out the song’s understated appeal, but these renditions can’t fully shake the track’s tendency toward introspective stasis. While Vega’s vision is undeniably cohesive, “Solitude Standing” can feel like a painting admired from afar—provocative in its subtlety but difficult to step into.

Lifted from : Nirvana go to Portugal (1994)