Reality Bites Soundtrack Pt. 1 of 2, Big Mountain

Few movies encapsulate an era like Ben Stiller's Reality Bites. That's not necessarily a compliment. I'd argue that only 1995's Empire Records bests it in the "middle-aged studio exec attempts to cash in on the humor and angst of the grunge generation using sub-John Hughes script, indie actors and eclectic soundtrack" department.

Released in 1994 and starring Gen X superstars Ethan Hawke and Winona Ryder, the film tells the story of four twenty-somethings living in Houston, TX in the mid-90s. Though Stiller and producers would later deny it, the initial idea was to make a film about the Generation X crowd and everything that went along with that lifestyle:

• shitty 9-5 jobs - Ryder is a morning show PA, Hawke is unemployed for the 13th time in two years while roommate/friend Janeane Garofalo works as a manager at the ultimate '90s microcosm, The Gap.
  
• relationships - Ryder's stuck in a love triangle between the wannabe philosopher, grunge rocker and all around loser Hawke, and the educated, successful yuppie-ish sell-out Stiller).
  
• pop culture-centric conversations - endless references to '70s kitsch--half of Hawke's lines are either quoting a commercial jingle ("I'm a Pepper", "This girl is cukoo for Cocoa Puffs!") or throwing down some trivial tidbit about Good Times or Diff'rnt Strokes.
  
• modern, sexually-based fears - at one point Garofalo takes an HIV test and fourth roommate Steve Zahn struggles with his sexuality.
• living off fast food - Ryder at one point works at a burger place and, while on a date with Stiller, pontificates on the joys of 7-11's Big Gulp.
• the fear of selling out and becoming like their parents, i.e. doing something not in the arts - Hawke repeatedly fails to live up to his potential due to the fear of selling out to "the man," Ryder sabotages her own job and later breaks up with Stiller when he dares to allow the MTV-like network he works for to edit a boring yet artistically sound documentary she made about her friends' lives into something commercial and entertaining.
• Janeane Garofalo - does anything scream "'90s!" more than the grungy, sloppy, deadpan, cynical, "I'm studying for an M.A. in gender studies so fuck 90210" humor of Ms. Garofalo? MTV even made a cartoon based on her persona with Daria--and to make her even angrier, didn't give her any credit.
  

Of course, all of this was done better two years earlier in Cameron Crowe's Altman-esque survey of Seattle singles in the grunge era, titled, er, Singles. Audiences' initial reaction to Reality Bites was markedly less than Stiller and co. had hoped. Despite the indie-cred the film gained by playing at Sundance Film Festival, Reality Bites failed to connect with the ever-cynical Gen X crowd, and didn't really connect with anyone else either, grossing a reasonable-but-not-impressive $20 million at the box office. In recent years it has become something of a hit on video and DVD, buoyed by the meteoric rise of '90s nostalgia in the latter half of this decade. If nothing else, the film is extremely entertaining as a time capsule of the brief time period when Doc Martens with Guess Jeans shorts was considered the height of fashion, Kurt Cobain was the new Jim Morrison and the worst thing post-adolescent white people had to worry about was how bad it would look if they worked at The Gap.

The soundtrack, however, was a different story. A mish-mash of '80s new wave and indie, '70s hits, new covers and contemporary alternative rock, the album played like your average '90s college student's mixtape, and somewhat inexplicably birthed two left-field hits: Lisa Loeb's "Stay" and Big Mountain's cover of Peter Frampton's "Baby I Love Your Way."

This week we'll focus on the latter--next week, Loeb will get her own entry.

So, Big Mountain was a reggae band formed in the early 1990s and hailing from the decidedly un-Jamaican land of San Diego. For some reason, early '90s audiences welcomed non-Jamacian white dudes playing reggae (see also: UB40) and believe it or not, Big Mountain had hit the Hot 100 a year or so prior to Reality Bites. "Touch My Light," from the album Wake Up, had reached #51 on the Hot 100. The minor hit spurred Bites producer Ron Fair to approach the band about recording a cover of Frampton's song for the soundtrack.

Why didn't they just include Frampton's original recording? I honestly don't know. The original Frampton recording (which reached #12 on the Billboards) is featured in the actual movie during a scene where Stiller playfully berates Ryder for not knowing Frampton Comes Alive! (the metaphorical overtones of Stiller's yuppie-ish love for corporate rock are not lost on this viewer). My guess is that licensing Frampton's original recording would have cost the producers too much money, and reggae bands--as anyone who has ever eaten at a restaurant in the islands can attest to--are dirt cheap. It's also probable that the producers were looking for a hit single for the soundtrack and took a page from the 1993's Sliver soundtrack, which featured a UB40 cover of Elvis' "Can't Help Falling In Love With You."

I'm convinced the black guys were hired for the picture and are not actually members of Big Mountain

Turning Frampton's song into a reggae jam wasn't much of a stretch--the original was clearly influenced by reggae with Frampton doing a sad white man's imitation of an island singer. Still, Big Mountain's version turns into a full-on soft rock reggae jam, with lightly plucked acoustic guitars, a prominent saxophone and three-part harmony. And if there was any doubt in your mind that this wasn't a group of non-Jamaican white (and Mexican) dudes with dreads from So. Cal, the video--which looks to have been shot at a lame resort in Sandles--quickly changed that.

Big Mountain - Baby I Love Your Way
by POMSNESTABOB

If reggae didn't die after this video, then it must have already been long dead, and this was merely another long, cheesy nail in the coffin. Any lingering memory of reggae that had concerns about injustice, poverty, religion (or basically that it had anything do with anything other than act as a soundtrack to your rockin' the gange and making love to your second wife on a beach in Sandles while a guy with dreads brings you a margarita) were washed away by this video. Dashikis, Steinberger guitars, unwieldy headset microphones, shots of Winona Ryder's ass in jeans...doesn't get much better than this, folks.

But as awesome as this version may be, it has nothing on the Spanish version, "Baby Te Quiero A Ti." Oh yeah, this actually happened.


Full disclosure: I recall loving the shit out of this song when I was all of 10 years old. As cheesy as it may be, it's infectious. That key change used to blow my mind. It made me want to play sax for about five minutes, and it very well could have been the first reggae song I ever really listened to (This could explain why I have no real use for reggae these days).

The song was a smash crossover, hitting #6 on the Hot 100, #1 on the Top 40, #10 on Adult Contemporary, #19 on Hot Latin Tracks (huh?) and #8 on Rhythmic Top 40 (double huh?). And thanks in part to that amazing Spanish version, the song was a worldwide hit. To make matters stranger--this wasn't the first time a cover of Frampton's song charted: in 1988, Will to Power had a #1 hit with their cloying medley of "Baby" and Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Free Bird."

The Reality Bites soundtrack sold 1.2 million units and reached #13 on the Billboard charts. The track was also included on their album Unity, which reached #174 on the album charts.

So where did Big Mountain go from there? They released two more singles. The first, an original called "Sweet Sensual Love" was very much in line with the sound of their hit; that is, safe, soft-rock reggae with all the edges smoothed out. The problem? It wasn't a cover! It stalled at #80 on the Billboard charts. Lead singer Quino and co. must have had their dreads tied too tied if they thought folks wanted to hear their original music. Luckily, the group smoked some of that Jamaican Gold and decided the public wanted a smooth-reggae version of another classic feel-good favorite.

They chose The Youngbloods' "Get Together," which in 1995 was somewhat popular again, having been featured on the monster-selling Forrest Gump soundtrack. Featured on their 1995 album, the vaguely political sounding Resistance, "Get Together" featured production that would have sounded dated in 1988, but brought the goods on the "feel-good smooth reggae" front, so I guess for that reason it could be called a success. As far as I can tell, there's not much to separate it from any of those Reggae Tribute to Paul Anka album. Listening to this song makes me feel like I'm in a shitty bar in inland Florida, watching some sunburned middle-aged fat guy in a sales rack Tommy Bahama shirt order up yet another Pina Colada with one hand while he gropes the frizzy haired 35-year-old divorcee in the bikini top and belly jewelry with the other hand. If that's not a ringing endorsement, I don't know what is.

The cover trick worked a second time and "Get Together" did surprisingly well, reaching #44 on the Billboard charts, and #28 on the Adult Contemporary charts.

The band was dropped from Warner Bros. after on more album, Free Up, in 1997. Since then they've been recording some originals, but have mostly fallen to recording reggae cover albums that no doubt are played in Jamaican themed restaurants throughout the midwest. So check out the lazily titled Versions Undercover for Big Mountain's take on John Lennon, James Taylor and others, or just sit near the speakers next time you go to Bahama Breeze (order the West Indies Ribs!). Hell, Big Mountain might even be playing at your location! (They live off tips, people! Have a heart!)

One love!

Next Week: the sexy librarianness of Lisa Loeb
Download: Big Mountain - Baby, I Love Your Way
Download: Big Mountain - Sweet, Sensual Love
Download: Big Mountain - Get Together

Big Mountain website

One Hit and That's It: Willi One Blood

Note: The "One Hit and That's It" will feature people who, for whatever reason, didn't have a second single--or not one to speak of--and seemed to virtually disappear from the music business. This is the first entry.

As a teenager, my friends and I wiled away our Saturdays at boarding school by taking the bus to the Hamilton Place Mall in Chattanooga, Tennessee. The suburban mall is a melting pot of every social group of teenage society: rednecks, skaters, goths, preps, sluts, indie kids, Anime/Dungeons & Dragons kids, stoners, hippies, etc. My friends and I watched from the food court, munching on warm pretzels and Chik-fil-A, wasting time until the next showing of Blade by fitting everyone who walked by into one of the above groups.

When the ultimate mall rat--the wigger--walked by, decked out in Tommy jeans and red FUBU shirt, his fitted hat turned to the side, tag still attached, with wispy hairs scattered across his upper lip and chin--a sad but earnest nod to a real goatee. We all groaned.

"Wiggers have got to be the worst ever," my friend said.

"Without a doubt," we all agreed. What could beat a wigger?

"Hippies," another friend said. I didn't agree. I had friends who could be considered hippies, they weren't bad, though I knew deep down that hippies at their worst could easily rival even Snow himself.

As if to silence our conversation, walking past the Great Wraps gyro place at that moment was a young man with light brown, shoulder length dreads tucked into a beanie, his skinny frame covered in an XXL tie-dye shirt with the sepia-toned visage of Bob Marley printed on the front, shorts so long they almost touched his Birkenstocks, and a kinky chin beard that reached his chest. He carried a bag from Camelot Music, no doubt stuffed with drug paraphernalia and black light posters.

He was a White Rastafarian. The worst of wiggers mixed with the worst of hippies to create the ultimate cultural insult.

And what goes with White Rastafarians? Reggae music. The problem is, the White Rastafrian's knowledge of reggae extends no further than Bob Marley's greatest hits album Legend.

By 1994, the white guy dreadlocks had made their way into mainstream rock music through Adam Duritz of Counting Crows, but, mercifully, the white guy reggae was still held at bay--until our hero came on the scene with the Dumb & Dumber soundtrack.

The Dumb & Dumber soundtrack is like a time capsule of flash in the pan bands from 1994-95--The Proclaimers, Green Jelly, Pete Droge, Deee-Lite, Butthole Surfers, Deadeye Dick, and, as previously covered, the Crash Test Dummies all appear, some playing hits, some playing covers or b-sides. Quite an amazing collection for anyone who was incredibly impressed with that year's modern rock output.

Then there's our hero, Willi One Blood's (aka William Harbour, Jr.) "Whiney Whiney (What Really Drives Me Crazy)". Mr. One Blood is an artist who came out of nowhere, as if his sole purpose was to have this song appear on this soundtrack and later disappear into a cloud of ganja smoke and incense. The song starts out with the sound of a door closing, some cowboy sounding guy saying "hold it stranger!" and then a cartoon sound effect leads us into Willie making proclamations about a "New dance! It's an old dance come back again!" over a vaguely Middle Eastern Indian melody, he then gives us a cliched "Lord-a-mercy!"--leading one to think he might actually be Dave Chappelle's Rasta character from Half-Baked-- before the song's beat breaks in with a saxophone goofily doubling One Blood's vocal melody. The song then begins to borrow heavily from '60s music, filling up several measures with at least two classics--"The Locomotion" and The Kinks "You Really Got Me," but screwing both up with unnecessary Willieisms. The song even credits Henry Mancini as a songwriter, although I'm admittedly not knowledgeable enough to know which parts are him ripping off that great composer.

Mr. One-Blood might defend his choice of using other songs as sampling, but really, it sounds closer to a reggae version of one of "Weird Al"'s famous polka medleys in which he runs together ten or so popular songs, all played as traditional polka. That's actually the best comparison I can come up with for Mr. One Blood. He's like a reggae White Rasta version of "Weird Al"--and yes, that's as good as it sounds.

But here's the problem--I don't think he's joking. Sure, he means for the song to be fun, but not quite for it to be the joke that it came out sounding like. The song's lyrics (and video) really seem to be calling for people to start doing this new "Whiney Whiney" dance that he's proposing. He desperately wants this thing to catch on, although, strangely, he never gives instructions, except for explaning that a) It's a new dance, and b) it really drives him crazy.

Here, in all its glory, is the video featuring Mr. One Blood, many stereotypical looking Indian people, some scantily clad women doing what I assume is the "Whiney Whiney" dance, and some random clips from Dumb & Dumber (by far the best part):

The song went to #34 on the Top 40 charts, #62 on the Top 100 and #34 on the "Rhythmic Top 40" which is something new to me, but which apparently leans towards rhythmic (key word) R&B, hip-hop and dance based music. The Dumb & Dumber soundtrack peaked at #62.

But that's not quite the end of Willi One Blood--first he appeared as "1st Stansfield Man" in Leon aka The Professional opposite Gary Oldman, Jean Reno and Natalie Portman. Um...I think you'll be able to pick him out.
Caution: ultra violence in this clip

"The fuck you know about music?" -- Willi One Blood, The Professional.

And did you see the way he shot that gun at that little kid? That deserves at least an Independent Spirit Award. One Blood continued his acting career in the box-office smash that turned Jerry O'Connell into a mega-star, MTV Films' Joe's Apartment.

Also, somewhat surprisingly, he did release a second single in 1996 called "It's True," but I'll be damned if I could find any evidence that it actually existed beyond an entry on AllMusic.com. That's right, no second single this week, I have failed you, dear readers! Regardless, the song--if it was even released (and I do have my doubts)--failed to do anything and saw Willie drop off the planet for a good, oh, 14 years.

What was One Blood doing all those years? Did he take the cash from his one hit, skip down to Kingston and blow it all on weed and Wailers bootlegs? Probably. Did he travel to different countries, with nothing but a turntable and microphone (perhaps two turntables?) singing his one song, and trying in earnest to teach his "Whiney Whiney" dance to hundreds of people in war torn, third world countries? Man, I hope so.

However, the picture to the left suggests a Hook-like scenario wherein Willi got amnesia, forgot he was ever a white rasta/hip-hop/reggae singer, and instead married, had children, settled down in Coral Gables and became an accountant or PR rep. Whatever he's been doing, Captain Hook must have captured his kids 'cause he's back in action, crowing his ass off and reggae-rapping like nobody's business.

Like all other has-beens or never-weres, One Blood has a MySpace page that reveals him to be, among other things, 104 years old, female, currently residing in Miami and a self-described "true original." It would also seem from the pictures that he's decided to spit in the face of all women by going and cutting off his lovely dreads--so as to just look like a normal white guy singing reggae.

The songs range from the sub-Sean Paul to sub-Wyclef Jean. Try not to roll your eyes at the sample heavy awfulness of "Best of One Blood" or "Life is Like a Road" (paging Tom Cochrane), both of which sound like they were made using Windows 98 versions of Audacity and Acid Music. Maybe this just isn't my type of music, but the vocals sound more like a parody of reggae than respectful. According to the page, these songs all come from the aforementioned forthcoming album, Blazing, a title which I can only assume is a social commentary on the devastating forest fires California has experienced over the past few ye--what? Oh. He's talking about weed again, isn't he? Damn these White Rastafarians!

I will leave you with a question for today, followed by a quote from Mr. One Blood:

Dumb & Dumber's soundtrack CD was only the second CD I ever owned. I'd also count reggae as one of the two or three genres of music I've never managed to get into. Coincidence? Is Willi One Blood to blame for my reticence to experience Lee "Scratch" Perry or Burning Spear?

"One thing I've learned in my travels is that people have more in common than they want to admit. So we might as well learn to live together. One world, one love, one blood."
--W. One Blood, MySpace page

Download: Willi One Blood - Whiney Whiney (What Really Drives Me Crazy)