Consuming music at home, at work, on a run, or in the car, the marriage between our ears and a streaming service is stronger than ever before. For better or worse, our phones have become our record collections. Call it the advancement of technology or the necessity of convenience, we’ve pretty much mastered the art of playlists. Thus, it’s hard to believe that compilation albums were so prevalent in our music libraries, especially in a time when people also listened to terrestrial radio all the time. One of the biggest entries of all time was the NOW That’s What I Call Music! series. I took a closer look at Volume 1 back in 2023, so I wanted to continue our journey with NOW 2.
Don’t worry! This won’t be a comprehensive history of the compilation series.
That would take years because the U.S. edition is on its 90th installment (not counting special editions). Released on July 27th, 1999, NOW 2 came at a time when just about every home had a computer and file-sharing was slowly becoming more common. Thus, the average music listener could make their own compilation albums on burnable CD-Rs instead of forking over money to buy albums from each artist.
However, the folks behind the NOW series wanted to capitalize on those who weren’t technically inclined. The result was a tracklisting that felt closer to what pop radio stations were already playing at the time. With NOW and CD technology, you could listen to your favorite songs without any radio interruption and without hearing songs you didn’t like.
At 16 years old in the summer of 1999, I was becoming less and less interested in what was popular on the radio. For a few of these songs, this article represented the first time I’d actually listened to many of these songs with any depth.
Let’s go back to a time when the Y2k was looming and people felt like they were moving directly into the future. This is NOW 2!
Britney Spears – “…Baby One More Time”
If you’re reading this article, I don’t have to explain who Britney Spears is or the impact “…Baby One More Time” had on pop culture. The short time between 1998 and 2000 was like a miniature decade on its own, and the queen was Britney. The world was in love with this song. Was it the melodramatic cadence? Maybe the over-pronounced “oh bay bah bay bah.” Commercials, music videos, TRL – you couldn’t turn your TV or radio on without getting walloped upside the head with Britney Spears. This kid was everywhere.
Let’s emphasize kid here, too. Spears was 16 years old during all this. That’s right. The scandalous schoolgirl outfit, the tube top, and pigtails.The whole bit. Why was everyone complacent with hypersexualizing a child? Not to mention the lyrics. And the producers and record executives knew what they were doing, too. For what other reason was the word ‘hit’ taken out of the title but not the lyrics? Whether she was singing about fornication or domestic abuse, “…Baby One More Time” was a serious collection of red flags.
New Radicals – “Get What You Give”
Much like “Flagpole Sitta” from NOW vol.1, “Get What You Give” is a song that could only exist in 1999. It had all the sarcastic nihilism of the then-dead grunge movement but the anthemic summer jam saturation of millennial hopefulness. But man, for a song that barely broke into the Top 40, you couldn’t escape it. This song was everywhere. I don’t know if it was because it adequately represented Gen X angst AND ’90s neon, or if people mistakenly thought it was a good song.
I mean, it’s not bad per se, but it is insufferable. The know-it-all delivery is exhausting, and the entire song (also like “Flagpole Sitta”) insists it’s too cool to be pop. The New Radicals fully understood the importance of a soaring hook in a pop song, but they squandered it by never shutting up for nearly 6 minutes. God, I hate hipsters.
Robbie Williams – “Millennium”
The absolute hottest topic of 1999 was the dawning of the new millennium. Unlike these days when we’re expecting the worst, that particular summer was elevated by an air of caution and hopefulness. This song felt like the perfect theme for that mood. It’s breezy, stylish, and superficial but with a sweet cynical sarcasm that only Williams could pull off.
I loved this song back then. Despite being a mainstream pop song, it always felt closer to trip-hop. The John Barry sample on top of the hip-hop beat is the chef’s kiss. The video is great too! At 16 years old, I was nerdy enough to recognize the James Bond references, and I got a laugh at Williams emulating a hammy version of Sean Connery. It’s a lot of fun and holds up surprisingly well.
Semisonic – “Closing Time”
After dominating airways for the better part of 40 years, the late ’90s saw the death of rock music as the prominent species in pop culture. Especially if you weren’t detuning your guitars and singing about daddy issues. But the brief popularity of Semisonic felt like an anomaly. Introspective, melancholy, and ever so hopeful, “Closing Time” was everything Gen X felt as they itched closer to the next chapter of their lives. Or maybe it was about getting cross-eyed drunk enough to go home with whatever creature was left in the bar before they threw you out. Who knows.
“Closing Time” is fine-ish, I suppose. I don’t have any real nostalgic attachment to it from back then. I was too young to appreciate what the lyrics meant, and the rest was just okay for me. It’s a well-written track, though. Apparently, other industry types thought so, too. Semisonic frontman, Dan Wilson, finished his whisky or beer and went on to write songs for the likes of Adele, The Chicks, Keith Urban, Celine Dion, Mitski, and Taylor Swift, just to name a few.
U2 – “Sweetest Thing”
I honestly don’t remember hearing this song on the radio or seeing it on MTV in 1998/1999. But I hate U2 with a seething passion, so I probably had it blocked out. Listening to it now, it’s okay, I guess? I don’t know. Just a generic lovey-dovey pop song tailor-made for adult contemporary radio or romantic comedies.
Is it good? Absolutely not, but it’s not as obnoxious, whiny, or preachy as it could’ve been coming from this trash band. At least Bono wasn’t trying to guilt me into donating my paycheck to charity as he flew around on his private jet.
Sheryl Crow – “Favorite Mistake”
I remember when this song was all over radio and MTV, and it would bore me to tears. It felt like it was 15 minutes or at least long enough to have commercials. It’s weird too because back then it seemed like Sheryl Crow had a hit song every month.
Listening to NOW 2 for this article is the first time I’ve heard this song since the ’90s. And you know what? It kinda slaps! That slap-echo guitar riff (by the legendary Wendy Melvoin) and blues groove is cool. I also love how it’s based around this pentatonic vibe but breaks into major chords in the chorus. That’s some solid composition, if you ask me. The dark nature of infidelity and a jilted lover makes for some interesting lyric play, too. Maybe I’m just old now?
Fatboy Slim – “Praise You”
It might be hard to believe, but there was a brief time when electronica music (or techno, or big beat, whatever you want to call it) went mainstream. Well, obviously, it’s on the NOW 2 comp. But that will always be funny to me.
To be fair, Fatboy Slim’s approach to the genre has always been easy to consume. “Praise You” is made up entirely of samples. There’s some Hoyt Axton, the Fat Albert theme, and even a second of It’s A Small World from Disneyland! Pretty creative stuff! It’s pretty dated by today’s standards, but still a nice little bop.
Garbage – “I Think I’m Paranoid”
Can’t dunk on this one too much. I like Garbage (the band). Not the most inspired single, by any means. It’s basically a glossier variation on “Stupid Girl,” but it’ll do in a pinch.
It’s still pretty funny that a song by Garbage shares the same tracklisting with The Spice Girls, Britney Spears, and The Backstreet Boys. At the time, Garbage had nothing in common with those acts. But these days, “I Think I’m Paranoid” fits in far better than anyone in 1998 would admit.
Cake – “Never There”
In the late ’90s, bands weaponized quirkiness. On one hand, it was fun to see all the creative ways geeks made themselves endearing. But on the other hand, it could be extremely annoying. Cake sat perfectly in the middle.
“Never There” is one of those songs that shouldn’t be a hit based on its deadpan delivery and unabashedly square demeanor. Yet, there’s something about it that’s almost infectious. I don’t really understand it either, but the band owned it. This song ends just as you start to like it or rip your stereo out of the dash.
98 Degrees – “Because Of You”
Obviously, I’m not the target audience here, but this is the first time I’ve ever heard this song. I don’t really know what to say about it either. “Because Of You” is your run-of-the-mill boy band fluff. Toothless, sparkly clean, and nauseatingly harmless.
The whole bit feels inconsequential to the point of embarrassment. Did anyone like this back then? Just look at the music video! Outside of the main singer looking like Corey Haim with healthier eating habits and an Old Navy credit card, absolutely nothing stands out.
Spice Girls – “Goodbye”
I like how this song starts off with “no no no no.” Trust me, the feeling is reciprocal. When I think of the Spice Girls, I think of cookie-cutter caricatures, bubble gum pop, and campy fun. Not this somber sad girl nonsense.
I guess it’s cool how they tried to do a mature ballad, but these junior high diary lyrics just ain’t it. Not to mention how bad their voices sound with this setup. Wait… Wasn’t there a redhead? Where’s the redhead? She bounced? No no no no!
Blackstreet/Mya/Mase/Blinky Blink – “Take Me There”
If you thought the Rug Rats theme was annoying (sorry Mark Mothersbaugh), imagine hearing it in a constant loop for 5 minutes. That’s pretty much the basis for “Take Me There”. A pop hip-hop song should never be this long. Ever. Recorded as a tie-in for the Rug Rats movie (obviously), “Take Me There” is a product of that time when every song had to feature multitudes of other artists for no real reason.
Mya is a good singer, and Blackstreet is fine (“No Diggity” is still a banger), but this song is beyond grating. It makes me hate them all. By the time Mase and… checks notes… Blinky Blink show up to rap about Tommy, Chucky, Phil & Lil, and Reptar (yes, you read that correctly), your brain has already peaced out from hearing the line “Take Me There” no less than 1,246 times. Please God in heaven, make it stop!
R Kelly – “When A Woman’s Fed Up”
I’m not giving this artist any attention.
Everclear – “Father Of Mine”
Musically speaking, “Father Of Mine” is pretty much interchangeable with any other Everclear song. Same chord progression, same beat, and same ‘dun dun dun du-du-dun dun’ riff. Depending on how you feel about that will decide if this is your jam or another skippable track in this compilation. I know went easy on these guys on the last go-around, but man, Everclear are too derivative to be endearing.
As someone who had a good father and having no kids of my own, critiquing the lyrical content of “Father Of Mine” would be me not staying in my proverbial lane. But it kinda feels like when someone performs an unsolicited trauma dump on you, and you’re not really sure how to react. Do you nod in agreement or shake your head with sympathy? I just wanted some rock n’ roll, my dude!
Sublime – “What I Got”
Why is this on here? It makes no sense. For starters, I think Sublime was one of the worst bands to reach our blessed ears as human beings. For seconds, this song was old by the time NOW 2 was released. “What I Got” came out in 1996, and stylistically speaking, 1999 was a decade later. But I guess if U2 could regurgitate an old song for this comp, so could Sublime. It’s not like I’d willingly listen to it anyway.
Has anyone ever noticed how the verses in “What I Got” are exactly the same as “Lady Madonna” by the Beatles? As one of the worst Beatles songs, I guess it’s only right. I also love how he says “I can play the guitar like a mother *****n’ riot” then proceeds to play the lamest solo in guitar history. But then that’s par for the course.
Backstreet Boys – “I’ll Never Break Your Heart”
We’ve already had Britney, the Spice Girls, and the Shasta Cola boy band, 98 Degrees. But now it’s time for the big boys, err… the Backstreet Boys! “I’ll Never Break Your Heart” is the obligatory ballad all boy bands are entitled to create. You know, the kind with a lot of pouty faces, reaching out to the camera, single finger emulating a single tear. Well, it’s all here and in top form. Speaking of ugly cry faces, why are they so upset in the video? Each of them is wincing as if someone broke their hearts.
Essentially, “I’ll Never Break Your Heart” is the white boy version of Boyz II Men’s “I’ll Make Love To You” without the silky smooth sultriness. To be fair, “I’ll Never Break Your Heart” is legit R&B. It’s corny, awkward, and about as sincere as a get-well card from the Dollar Tree, but it shows the boys were capable of a slow jam. Even if it was meant for 12-year-olds. But as someone who enjoys real R&B, this song and video make even my pasty white skin crawl.
Jay Z – “Hard Knock Life”
It’s crazy to think that, even though hip-hop is immensely important to pop culture, there aren’t many songs that truly become crossover hits that even suburban moms will sing in the car. Genre-defining singles shouldn’t be reserved for gimmicky fluff like “Can’t Touch This” or “Bust A Move.” Obviously, there were MANY essential hip-hop songs before “Hard Knock Life,” but I can’t think of any that broke into the mainstream without trivializing the struggle of life in the inner city for the pop audience. I think Jay-Z remedied that with “Hard Knock Life.”
Outside the nails on the chalkboard Annie sample, “Hard Knock Life” is basically Jay-Z talking about his upbringing and speaking his wealth into existence. Having this song break into the pop radio charts and find its way on a compilation with the biggest hits of the year is a testament to how speaking truth defies genres and appeals to all walks of life. While I’ve never cared for this song or Jay-Z as an artist, there’s no denying “Hard Knock Life” is one of the most important singles in hip-hop to become a mainstream staple. Just please quit with that Annie sample, please.
Baz Luhrmann – “Everybody’s Free To Wear Sunscreen”
When you think of Baz Luhrmann you probably think of his extremely gaudy (yet extremely entertaining) films such as Romeo + Juliet, The Great Gatsby, and Elvis. While not particularly my thing, his directorial efforts have merit. They’re all over-stylized camp where you’re not sure if the actors are winking at the audience or trying to get the glitter out of their eyes. But thinking about Luhrmann having a hit song on the pop charts either makes zero sense or all the sense in the world.
“Everybody’s Free To Wear Sunscreen” is a motivational speech written by Pulitzer prize-winning Chicago Tribune columnist Mary Schmich and spoken by Australian voice actor Lee Perry. Despite being an almost sardonic spoken-word piece, the relaxed electro-pop arrangement gives the song a cinematic quality making it feel both odd and important.
Each line of the speech offers tidbits of life advice from the mundane – “You’re not as fat as you think you are” – to the profound: “Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing out the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it’s worth.” I remember hearing this song for the first time and laughing at how weird it was. But somehow, I knew it would mean more when I grew up. And it did.
Listening to NOW 2 for the first time in 25 years, it feels like a completely different beast.
As I’ve stated many times in this publication (and this article), I’m not a big fan of nostalgia. Part of that is due to being too sentimental about it back when I was too young to fully understand what it really was. While there’s nothing wrong with being into older stuff, the real nostalgia comes from experiencing it and mourning it. At the same time, I think it’s a little too easy to look back at your young self with disdain. Admittedly, I rarely pass up the opportunity to do so. The things I hate about myself tend to stem from my youth.
Although I enjoy hating on the past, sitting down and revisiting my adolescence hasn’t proved to be as toxic as I thought it might. The 16-year-old version of me in 1999 sure was a dork. He wasted time with misdirected priorities with people and cliques. Neglecting talent and squandering privilege. He had a smart mouth and a dumb heart, but do you know what? He grew up with enough sense to fully understand self-awareness and that time is fleeting. Even if it took listening to a collection of mediocre pop songs.
Now that’s what I call therapy!
Check out my look at the first installment of NOW That’s What I Call Music.