No. 033 - Sublime's “What I Got” changed my life
No. 033 - Sublime's “What I Got” changed my life
Meghan Mae on a deep, enduring friendship and a Y2K West Coast anthem
🌸 A Grace favorite
This Song Changed My Life is an independent music publication featuring essays from people all around the world about the songs that mean the most to them. Created by Grace Lilly, supported by readers.
• 4 min read •
A few weeks ago, I received a message from my dear friend Kim, which contained a photo of a CD along with a tracklist in bubbly handwriting.
The list featured a wholly chaotic mix of genres: Tom Petty, Shakira, Oasis, Trick Daddy, a "Mystery Song" (neither of us can recall what this is, but surely it was tremendous), and Sublime's "What I Got."
My friendship with Kim began in 1996, a year when I was painfully skinny, bucktoothed, dirt poor, and with a home life that could generously be called "character-building."
Kim, in contrast, seemed to bypass any awkward stage, and though she would deny this, I stand as a reliable narrator of her inherent coolness and beauty. She never judged superficialities, and at an age when childhood cruelty reigned, she adopted my straggly self as her friend.
From the moment we met and discussed our shared desire to see Green Day, I knew she was the best person in the world.
She let me stay at her house when I couldn’t stay at mine, allowed me to mooch lunch money, and never once made fun of my limited wardrobe consisting of just two pairs of pants and three tops.
We grew up in Brentwood Bay, a tiny blip of farmland, trees, and ocean on the Saanich Peninsula at the southern tip of Vancouver Island. Looking out from our high school classroom windows, you'd see fields stretching on both sides, cows lazily grazing, occasionally lured into the school as a prank. Many students spent summers working at Butchart Gardens, a local attraction which brought in the cruise ship crowds and tourists heading towards Downtown Victoria.
1996 was also the year Sublime released their self-titled third album, posthumously after lead singer Bradley Nowell’s passing from a heroin overdose in San Francisco. "What I Got" was the first track on the album, which eventually reached 5x platinum, but more importantly to my story, touched the lives of two young girls who were friends in a small town.
I can't pinpoint the exact moment I first heard "What I Got,” but it was undoubtedly through Kim.
In those days, I only learned about anything interesting through her. It might have been on a day when we shared a Discman, each with an earbud in place, one of us holding the cumbersome square of late 90s technology horizontally to prevent the burned CD from skipping.
Walking home from school, Kim and I would wander the neighbourhood in long, aimless circles. There was a coffee shop between our homes where she would order us Italian sodas, the predecessor of our future iced coffees, and the only sustenance required for hours of chatting.
I might have heard it when we took the bus close to the entrance of Thetis Lake, carefully hiking in foamed platform flip-flops the rest of the way. We spent afternoons scanning the splashing water for a hot senior hockey player (who had mysteriously obtained two black eyes one September).
In any case, by Grade 9, we listened to Sublime on heavy rotation, especially in Kim’s boyfriend’s midnight blue lowrider truck. It was a two-seater, so I'd perch on Kim's lap as we drove around (levitating my butt to allow for gear shifts before squishing Kim again) or parked near the baseball field close to her boyfriend's house.
We rarely went indoors for these listening sessions; it was far better to enjoy from the truck's stereo, sputtering out deep, uneven bass. We were growing up, and seeing our lives move beyond the realm of childhood.
Bradley sang to us how fleeting life was, how little things like money or circumstance mattered. “What I Got” was YOLO for Y2K, a West Coast-infused call to be here now from those who no longer were. The lyrics carried the weight of hard things, but also the freedom to let those heavy things go.
Kim and I both moved away from Victoria after high school.
I heard "What I Got," in a dive bar in Brooklyn with peanuts on the floor, and I remembered how we used to sleep on her trampoline in the summertime to watch the moon move through the sky.
I lived in Los Angeles, and drove out to Malibu with my new puppy, singing along in agreement with Bradley that living with dogs was indeed the only way to stay sane.
This past October, I was the plus-one date for a wedding in Palermo. The rehearsal dinner was held at Palazzo Raffadal, a beautiful private residence in the center of the city. The guests were a veritable who’s who of the music and entertainment industry, and one of the rooms was set up for karaoke after the food had been cleared.
When I reached the mic, of course, “What I Got” was cued up.
“I’m from Victoria, and we like this song a lot out there,” I explained to the room.
I sang off-key, with great gusto, and I couldn’t wait to tell Kim. ◆
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About Meghan
Meghan Mae is a holistic facialist and the owner of Cara Cara, based in Los Angeles and Montreal with her dog Orly.
Instagram @caracarastudio
Website caracara.studio
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