1995: Rock On, Greater Phoenix
America is shaken by the Oklahoma City bombings, while the “worldwide web” gives us comically named startups eBay, Craigslist and Match.com. Phoenix moviegoers vibe to Woody and Buzz while getting their first taste of a bona fide homegrown rock scene.
Seattle South
The 1990s marked a golden age for the Valley music scene. Mill Avenue was lousy with legendary venues such as Long Wong’s, Edcels Attic and Gibson’s – DIY incubators where a new wave of rockers gave birth to the “Tempe Sound.” Rooted in the college town’s bar culture, this jangly, sun-drenched brand of alt-rock was just polished and poppy enough for mainstream radio – our answer to the grittier Seattle grunge-rock that had lit up airwaves earlier in the decade. By 1995, many Tempe bands were garnering national attention. It was the year Dead Hot Workshop released its first commercial album, 1001 – named for the street address of the now-defunct Sun Club in Tempe, an unpretentious live-music cave where local bands cut their teeth and trailblazing rock icons like The Flaming Lips, Nirvana and Dinosaur Jr. played before they got big. “That was a magical place. It was old, it was made of wood, there was no air-conditioning,” Dead Hot Workshop drummer Curtis Grippe says. “It was a miserable place to play in the summer, but it sounded glorious.” Meanwhile, the Gin Blossoms released its third studio album, Congratulations…I’m Sorry, and legendary promoter Charlie Levy began organizing shows at Nita’s Hideaway. Today, the Tempe Sound era is remembered as a peak period of authenticity, creativity and community that paved the way for the likes of Jimmy Eat World and Authority Zero. “It was a little moment in time that launched a thousand ships,” Grippe says. “It’s cool to see them still floating.”