120 Minutes – When MTV Played Music

If you were a teenager in the 90s. If you lived in a suburb, a cornfield, or your car. And if you were out past midnight, chances are you were watching “120 Minutes,” a two-hour alternative special launched by MTV to fill the dead zone of late-night television. It was there flashing on the screen in someone’s parent’s basement while you tried to hook up with the foreign exchange student. It was tucked beside a pile of coats at the house party you successfully crashed. It was connected to a rod on the wall above the counter of the pizza parlor that was the only place open at that hour, other than Perkins.

The flickering light of 120 Minutes was the bug lamp of teen angst – and it captured the full spectrum of cool.

If you were a nerd, a punk, a skater, a photographer for the yearbook, a drug addict, a self-cutter, the class clown – whatever you were, you knew exactly where 120 Minutes was coming from. Why? Because deep down you had no idea who you were. And neither did these bands.

In its heyday, 120 Minutes was where music went to experiment. It featured songs about aliens. Circus performers. Esoteric historical events. And candy. The videos were better than most movies, and were financed by an industry still burning bright on album sales.

Looking back at the programming from 1990-1994 is like coming face-to-face with the white ghost of my teenage self – now made possible by Tylerc.com and its archive of every video from every show ever. Here are a few of the highlights:

Sinead O’Connor / Mandinka
This wasn’t the sensual Sinead O’Connor singing “Nothing Compares 2 U.” This was the zany, combat-boot-wearing Sinead that you were worried your friend was trying to set you up with.

Sisters of Mercy / Dominion
Who knew this band even came out in the daylight?

The Sundays / Here’s Where the Story Ends
This is as quiet as punk rock gets.

Get the full effect. Visit Tylerc.com for the entire 120 Minutes archive. A big thanks to Peter Gaston at Spin.com for the heads up.

For more on storytelling, and angsty teen culture do-overs go to The Silver Thread.