"1979" (Smashing Pumpkins)

The 90s Grunge/alt-rock music scene (and it was a scene) never did much for me.  As time went on, the whole disaffected, angsty vibe that erupted at the beginning of the decade began to ring hollow, especially after Cobain (the only figure in 90s rock I ever really gave a crap about) decided to check out early.  I mean, it's kind of hard to take the zeitgeist seriously when the bands creating its soundtrack are jetting around the world, playing sports arenas packed with rich suburbanites in their Ab & Fitch flannel who'd paid $50 a ticket to be part of something.  From what I could tell, the only thing that united the "movement" was this sad need to somehow legitimize the 90s as being as pivotal or important as the 60s and 70s.
And as much as Gen X embraced Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness (1995) by Smashing Pumpkins as its own alt-rock "White Album" or Physical Graffiti, I hated the meandering, bloated thing.  If Billy Corgan wasn't screaming over overdriven guitar licks like Katherine Hepburn enduring a barium enema one moment, he was mewling over sentimental acoustic drivel the next.  Every time someone decided to play the album at a party in high school, I would just grit my teeth and pray that the CD would start skipping.
That said, I loved the track "1979."
The gorgeously understated guitar chords and ambient vocal accents perfectly underscore his poignant sketch of fading innocence and the restless, blissful aimlessness of adolescence.  For me, it was the only moment of honesty in the album's 120 minutes of sludge and self-indulgence—true emotion instead of screeching malaise and/or sentimentality wrapped up in pink cellophane.  
When "1979" was released as a single my senior year of high school, it truly hit home.  I wasn't ready to be tossed out into the world as an adult.  I'd spent too much of my youth having to be a pseudo-adult, dealing with my father's illness (which we weren't allowed to discuss with anyone for fear he might lose his job), my parents' disintegrating marriage, and various near-crippling expectations put on me by well-meaning teachers, advisers, and mentors.  Staring down the future, I really just wanted to freeze time and be an irresponsible kid for a second.
And damned if Corgan didn't perfectly capture that in 4:30.
Interestingly enough, "1979" almost didn't make it on the album.  It was one of the last songs that Corgan had written during the sessions for Mellon Collie, and it was only in skeletal form when it came time to pick the album's running order.  The band's producer, Mark "Flood" Ellis, rejected the song from the lineup because he felt it was weak.  But Corgan wasn't ready to let it go that easily.  So he went away and worked on it for 24 hours, shaping the melody and lyrics, and then resubmitted it for consideration the next day.  The moment Flood heard it, he decided the record would be incomplete without it.