All that glitters is gold: “All Star”and the fading glory of 1990s America.
artwork by Wyatt Warren.
1999 was an interesting time for the United States of America, in that it was kind of uneventful. The nation was enjoying a prolonged stint as the world’s great economic and military superpower, with very little visible political tension. It also saw the release of a hit single by Californian pop rock band Smash Mouth, “All Star.” At first glance, these may seem like unrelated facts. But look closer and it becomes clear that “All Star” actually represents the final peak of American hegemonic power.
In the 1990s, following the fall of the Soviet Union and the conclusion of the First Gulf War, America reigned supreme as the globe’s primary superpower. Japan, the world’s second largest economy, fell into an economic crisis known as the “lost decade.” Yes, it was a moment for the United States, geopolitically and culturally. More specifically, it was a moment for California. The so-called “Sun Belt,” making up the South and West United States, saw consistent population growth throughout the second half of the 20th century, as air-conditioning made hotter areas pleasant to live in year-round.
As a result of this growth, a wave of suburban Southern California culture swept the nation and the world. In music, SoCal bands like The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots, and Smash Mouth replaced the synthesizers and futuristic sound of 1980s pop with loud guitars. All of these bands secured top 10 albums in the late ‘90s, displaying the significant weight that West Coast rock held in the American cultural marketplace. Californian rock distinguished itself from past movements by fusing a hedonistic attitude with a chorus-focused, overdriven guitar sound. When it features a guitar solo, it’s over the top, but it sometimes doesn’t. The production on “All Star” is representative of the “loudness war” that became endemic to pop music in the 1990s. The loudness war exploited people’s subconscious preference toward louder music by compressing sound to make it as loud as possible. Southern Californian rock was music for a time when the car radio and the CD were still the most common platforms for listening to music.
In the summer of 1999, following the release of “All Star,” the Woodstock 99 festival was held, and within hours, the poorly organized festival devolved into a lawless, chaotic zone that quickly had to be abandoned. The riots in the festival, during which a mostly young, male group set fires, stole property, and committed several sexual assaults, had no broader purpose. While the young people at the original Woodstock had grand ideals of ending the Vietnam War, the Woodstock 99 attendees didn’t know why they were angry, they just wanted to break rules.
“All Star” is one of the most ubiquitous songs in American culture. It has ridden multiple waves, from its initial status as a hit upon release, to greater popularity after its inclusion in Shrek, to a new status as a meme song in the last 5 years. It now sits with over half a billion plays on Spotify, and nearly that many views on YouTube. I can remember hearing the song practically every day on the bus going to day camp in the late 2000s and getting irritated by Steve Harwell’s brash voice, as the song’s chorus wound its way into my brain. Yet, every aspect of this song feels tethered to the waning years of the 20th century, before 9/11, the Iraq War, and the Great Recession. Its lyrics portray an optimistic, superficial character with a brazen indifference to the state of the world that could only have come from a time when (white) suburban America felt comfortable. Even the music video gets in on the flashy, hedonistic optimism of the 1990s. Harwell spends the entire video wearing sunglasses as he jumps on cars, takes a couple of girls for a ride on his motorcycle, saves a dog from a fire, single handedly lifts a school bus, and impresses Ben Stiller on the sunniest Southern California day imaginable. At face value, there is nothing political, threatening, or uncomfortable about “All Star.”
It should be noted that this optimism is satirical - the song references real-world problems with lines like “My world's on fire. How about yours?” and indicates that hedonism in the face of turmoil is, well, “dumb.” The main character in the song is not actually Harwell, it’s the American mindset. This also may explain why Smash Mouth did not attend the Woodstock ‘99 festival, despite having a hit single that summer; while seemingly just as crude as their contemporaries, they were not interested in posturing (or maybe they just weren’t invited). The line “All that glitters is gold” best shows the satirical nature of the lyrics - America is easily fooled by appearances. Politically, this could refer to overlooked increases in carbon emissions or income inequality.
Musically, “All Star” is a fairly straight-forward rock song, based on a simple four chord riff that is modified slightly (but brilliantly) for the chorus. It very much feels as if it was made by a band of white Californians, with basic rhythms and a sun-bleached feel. The chorus adds extra acoustic guitar to create a predictable change in intensity from the verse. The safe nature of the music was intentional - “All Star” was the last song written for the Astro Lounge album, after their record label asked them to write a suitable hit single. The band took explicit influence from the pop charts at the time, which contained such luminaries as Sugar Ray, Third Eye Blind, and Chumbawamba. Within days, “All Star” was written and, sure enough, it reached number 4 on the pop charts over the summer.
But just two years after its release came one of the most transformational events to the American psyche, with the 9/11 attacks and the subsequent War on Terror. While in the decade before, America could afford to be carefree and refrain from self-examination, suddenly the tone of public discourse shifted to a more paranoid, fragile, vindictive state that revealed the conflict that was brewing nationally.
Musically, electronic-based pop music began its rise toward the top of the charts, with rock albums appearing less and less. The earnest and aggressive, yet unpolitical, nature of 90s SoCal rock made it quickly lose relevance in the world of the Internet and the War on Terror. Being laid-back and goofy wasn’t an asset in a time of increased paranoia. The small amount of rock music that does reach the top of the charts today is more informed by pop-punk or British indie than the sound we now associate with American rock of the 1990s. Pop music is less white and less male, following the trends of the nation as a whole. Despite being twenty years old and still popular, “All Star” sounds (and looks) like a bygone era. For these reasons, it’s possible to draw a line at 9/11 that marks the end of the dominance of rock. This makes “All Star” the last major rock anthem released before the genre’s commercial downfall.
Since then, America has undergone great political and cultural turmoil. The world, and the musical world, looks very different than it did in 1999, and right now a true popular rock song without a self-conscious or intense air seems too foreign. “All Star” couldn’t come out in 2021 - and this explains why its role today is that of a meme. We can only engage with this kind of music through a lens of irony, because the de-contextualized hedonism of the 1990s is unrelatable in our current political climate. So we laugh at Steve Harwell’s voice and quote the first line or the chorus, and ignore the fact that it’s a cultural artifact... and a great song.
Edited by Maia Driggers, editor of Music History
Cover art by Wyatt Warren