JC Gonzo recounts the importance of Shirley Manson and Garbage on the 20^th anniversary of their groundbreaking first album. Don’t miss our mix of B-sides from that period at the bottom of the article.

I call myself “queer” because it is based in atypicality; whether it be sex, philosophy, or lifestyle. Queerness is expansive in its opposition. My first listen to Garbage’s single “Queer” was a memorable one. And I devoured it whole on my portable CD player during the drive home from some corporate but now extinct music store. After the searing, sadistic “Supervixen” got my blood pumping, the cool and collected world of “Queer” switched things up. Is she really saying that? I thought, I couldn’t fucking believe it. At that ripe age of 7 I already knew it was boys I favored; having tirelessly watched, rewound, and rewatched Atreyu from The Neverending Story crawl in mud and snot, utterly fascinated. Since I was frequently called a queer and its various Spanish equivalents, I was shocked at hearing someone say it in a non-threatening fashion. And it came from a woman – of course – strengthening a developing bias toward women, shaping up to be the only gender figures I related to. I was already the target of a lot of gay bashing and hate, thanks to the machismo attitudes and rampant homophobia accustomed to the colorful El Paso, Texas, borderland. I’d caught “Stupid Girl” on MTV (when the VMAs went down more like this rather than this) and sought out the album. Garbage’s self-titled debut was one of the first CDs I owned. The gritty black “G” drowning in what looks like an Ann Hamilton installation stunned me and deeply embedded itself in my psyche at such an impressionable age, as it must have for much of my generation (#pastelpunk). Garbage gave me my first notion that empowerment can found in being an outsider.

It wasn’t just “Queer” that hit me. The entire album sparked intrigue for a life of deviance, anti-religious tirades, and enacting scorn against oppressors. It planted seeds, track by track. Receiving the news of this “20 Years of Queer” tour brought things full-circle for me. Reading Shirley discuss the upcoming tour of their first album and recording some of their early tracks reminded me of that record’s crucial impact. “I latched onto ‘Queer’ as an anthem of the LGBT community,” she claims. Hey Shirley, so did I. In the same Rolling Stone article she discusses the lyrical origins of “Stupid Girl”, a track written by her male bandmates. It seemed like “Stupid Girl” was an equalizing moment where she found it refreshing for a woman to call out another woman on being an asshole while also relating to a heterosexual male perspective. Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon titled her 2015 memoir Girl in a Band, recounting what it was like to be surrounded by intense male bonding and creative energy, and simultaneously forming her own space. I wonder if Shirley Manson encountered similar experiences, also having blazed through the 1990s as the frontwoman of one of the decade's’ most definitive bands. Throughout her career she’s always been supportive of “the boys” but has often alluded to a gap between her and her bandmates Duke Erikson, Steve Marker, and Butch Vig. Perhaps it was age difference, career status, gender, or some intersection of all those things. Ultimately, she’s stated, “I think it was really good for me because it really pushed me and you do your utmost when you're coming from a position, in your mind, of lack...”. 

Garbage’s pop sensibility held hope in saving the flame of riot grrrl or “girl power” as the Spice Girls and other manufactured pop stars co-opted the term to a more consumerist world (see The Punk Singer). Garbage maintained chart status with catchy hooks and Shirley’s impeccable fashion sense but still held one foot in the door of the taboo. If you track their discography, you’ll hear how they take what is currently trending and pervert it, dirty it up, and spit it back out. Over the course of their career, the band became more explicit in their support of the queer community. Their third album, BeautifulGarbage, and onward, saw singles like “Cherry Lips,” “Androgyny,” “Bleed Like Me,” and “Sex is Not the Enemy,” acknowledging the trans community, championing gender-bending and celebrating sexual freedom. However, the alternative reign of the 1990s was over, and Garbage ceased to fit into the mainstream.

When MTV and radio were the primary funnels of music education for the masses, bands like Garbage played an important role being shining stars in what would otherwise be a heteronormative void. The internet’s shift in how we engage with media both gave voices to those who didn’t have a place in culture’s dialogue, but also thinned the impact of what bands like Garbage (and all the music, art and literature that came before) were doing by being too easy to ignore. Listening to Shirley’s reflections and tirades on today’s world shows a drastic shift in two short decades. She carries a newfound sophistication that’s developed over the years as a rockstar provocateur, shifting her role from performer to teacher. Soon and once again, Shirley will slip into her seasoned stage persona, embarking on Garbage’s new anniversary tour. Their 2015 Record Store Day single “The Chemicals” featuring Brian Aubert and its B-side “On Fire” show an industrial-flavored return to their early days. I look forward to catching Garbage on this tour, launching in early October. Full dates here.

Dandy Dicks has compiled some early Garbage B-sides for your listening pleasure: