Clarissa Can’t Explain This Awful Album
Consider this a formal declaration: I love Clarissa Explains it All. It is the epitome of 90's pre-adolescent television, and despite its female-oriented nature, I found myself relating all too well to Melissa Joan Hart's honest yet snarky take on teen life. And of course I loved Sam, because I was Sam, and Sam and Clarissa getting together would be like Clarissa and I getting together and then we could get married on the stage of a Smash Mouth concert and...
Sorry. Clarissa brings out the worst in me. But that's ok, because now I've found the worst of Clarissa:
Seriously, press play. I'll know if you won't. Hit play. Do it. DO IT.
BEHOLD: THE MOST OBVIOUS 90'S TEENAGE GIRL CASH-IN EVER CREATED. Melissa Joan Hart struggles through the lines force fed to her to emulate the world's most annoying phone conversation. And yet, I am still incredibly attracted to her. Sigh.
The worst offense of this audio abomination is that for an album called "This is What Na-Na Means," she never explains what Na-Na means! I thought you could explain it all, Clarissa! Why would you lie to me?! WHY!
If you can listen through this entire thing (like I have... multiple times) then I'm not sure if I should applaud you for your patience or wonder why you have enough free time to listen to this masochistic music. It hits every pre-teen trope in the book: complaining about disgusting siblings, obsessing over unrequited love, and awkwardly addressing a friend's divorcing parents by spelling out "peace." And who can forget the hit "I Want a Car," in which entitled teenagers that will probably cause countless automotive fatalities demand their own wheels?
I pity the poor parents who had to suffer through this album on road trips with their offspring. Imagine a pre-teen's father trapped in the metal prison of his family-friendly vehicle with this as his accompaniment, the sweet release of asphalt death tantalizingly out of reach. He looks upon the horizon, an endless stretch of road before him, and the knowledge that repeat listenings of this saccharine soundtrack await. "Hey there Romeo, she's your Juliet," Clarissa croons, and the father wonders if crashing his car on purpose would make the evening news. He closes his eyes, takes his hands off the wheel, and lets his SUV drift as it may...
That got really dark. Point is: listen to this album if you want to nostalgia bomb so hard that you get physically ill. I know I did.