But is it power pop?

Answering the question through a '90s prism.

Mar 04, 2025

An author and fellow drummer I know and enjoy

has an ongoing series of posts from guest writers that aims to answer the musical question, “Is it power pop?” Which instantly infers some debate about what songs or artists fit under a genre umbrella that is certainly less defined stylistically and otherwise than, say, hair bands or punk rock.

There is ample territory to explore here and I couldn’t help but take the bait. All my bands over the years wove in and out of power pop territory, partly because I love it in my bones and it’s so fun to play. It’s also a style that’s not hard to “get,” nor designed to be overly challenging. While many of its practitioners are absurdly talented musicians, they’re never trying to deliberately dazzle you with guitar wizardry, shifting time signatures or gratuitous solos.

Which is also what makes power pop deceptively simple. And I’ve always believed in the theory that the seemingly easiest things to do or create are actually that much harder to do really well. There’s precious few places in which to hide potential flaws. Like when making a French omelette.

Perhaps the “power” part is a little misleading. Though many a power pop song will have the amps cranked, under that crunchy exterior always lies a sweet creamy center. Even the Foo Fighters to me can live in this realm. Though deservedly staples of alternative and rock radio for now 30 freakin’ years, Dave Grohl channels Paul McCartney far more often than Lemmy. As a songwriter, the dude’s got more hooks than a tackle box.

At this point, I don’t overthink the original question. To paraphrase an old senator who shall remain nameless when asked to define pornography, “I know it when I hear it.” And in keeping with the overarching theme of my posts here and eventual book, I firmly believe the ‘90s were an unheralded golden era for power pop.

That decade was musically and culturally overshadowed by mini-waves like shoegaze, grunge, industrial, nu-metal and Britpop, but percolating under the surface and way down the charts were bands and songs of true power pop genius (1992 in particular was a graveyard of greatness, all buried under the larger weight of the period zeitgeist). I helped many of their drummers with used gear and tour support, knowing I didn’t have the legitimacy to sign them as endorsers but wanting to do at least something to keep them going.

Some were one-hit wonders, some managed to continually find their audiences, tour often and release multiple albums. Some were of the more verse-chorus-repeat catchy rock variety, some more reflective of the layered and symphonic Brian Wilson / Beatles school. There’s too many to list here, but I’ve singled out some enduring favorites below:

Jellyfish - The King Is Half-Undressed

Their debut “Bellybutton” was released in 1990 and little did they know it was soon to be a casualty of the tsunami that was Nirvana’s “Nevermind”. But sweet baby jeezus what a collection of orchestration, harmony, melody and overall gorgeous songwriting. Drummer Andy Sturmer was the lead singer who stood at his unusual cocktail kit at the front of the stage. This was the lead single that he owned in vocal and beat and when the video hit MTV I was mesmerized. I felt like I was watching psychedelics-fueled Saturday morning cartoons. It rocked in a way that reminded me of their influences, while delivering in a manner uniquely their own. The album was critically acclaimed and beloved by fellow musicians but went nowhere. The band soon released an arguably more complete follow-up and not long after the members went their own ways.

Owlsley - The Radio

I got this CD from a friend at a label in 1999. Had never heard of him. This song in particular checked all the power pop boxes. Sharp-edged guitar and bass interplay, undeniable chorus. But also a five-minute song with all kinds of layers (even a guitar solo!), not your usual sugar rush. The whole album followed suit. Later learned he tragically took his own life.

Superdrag - Sold You An Alibi

After an initial hit (“Sucked Out”) from their debut subsided, it seemed the band couldn’t catch a break. But from 1996 until their breakup in 2003, they pumped out a string of true power-pop masterpieces and the album “Head Trip In Every Key” should have been massive. The opening guitar line and staggered drumbeat that kicks it all off here sweep you away instantly. John Davis’ vocals can swing from a throaty growl to sweet pleading and were just made for this style of music. Full of dynamics and tasty quick turns, this song just punches you in the gut and then smooches you on the lips.

Teenage Fanclub - Starsign

Scottish. A full 1:20 intro of distortion and build up before the song actually kicks in (not reflected in this video). Sign me up. In 1991 Spin Magazine voted “Bandwagonesque” their album of the year, and rightfully so, but not without some predictable blowback. Whatever. This soldifies their greatness in granite, a dreamy, pulsing, head-bobbing romp.

Sugar - If I Can’t Change Your Mind

A paen to love from ex-Hüsker Dü frontman Bob Mould, on the landmark debut “Copper Blue” from this short-lived project that blew a damn hole in my head at the time in 1993. Guitar-driven, urgent, three guys plowing ahead with remarkably tuneful force. This song was a short and sweet standout for its sunshiny jangle and yearning vocal. Of it I never tire.

The Wondermints - Out Of Mind

I don’t even know where to start with this band. Beyond the crime of them being largely ignored, their small catalogue resides regally on my shelves. Like Jellyfish, they plumbed the depths of ‘60s-influenced pop and psychedelia with studio polish, seemingly effortless musicanship and a sorcerer’s hand with a tune. I listen to this and picture secretaries in shift dresses and bouffants doing the twist poolside at a mid-century house off Mulholland Drive, martinis at the ready, a golden sunset casting a shimmering glow on it all.

Fountains of Wayne - Denise

Arguably my favorite band of the last 30 years, whose bassist, co-writer and singer Adam Schlesinger was tragically claimed by Covid in 2020. Their gifts were so endless, the way they made lyrics about generic everyday existence so charming, their knack for writing songs that instantly tattooed themselves on your brain so undeniable, they were the whole damn package and could shift instantly from a stomping rocker to an acoustic love song. Even my kids loved them. I was going to reflexibly include here a standout song (among many) from their eponymous debut (“Radiation Vibe”), but for the power side of the equation opted for this more guitar-driven diamond from their sophomore effort “Utopia Parkway”. The video makes it all the better, with the Devo-esque suits, electronic drum kit and coordinated moves. The “sha-la-las”, the snare that sounds like handclaps in the chorus, holy hell, just please pour more pure maple syrup on this fluffy musical waffle.