I tried to school my Year 7 class in 1990s Californian punk. It did not go well.
When I was growing up in the early 1990s my taste in music was almost wholly shaped by what my big sister was listening to, most of which had been recorded on the tape deck of whatever boyfriend she was dating at the time.
I may have been a 12 year old girl with daggy dress sense and no hope of kissing any boys for at least two years (it's true), but musically speaking I was actually a 17-year-old skateboarding dude with cool hair who played drums in his friend's band. I was super awesome.
So while all my girl friends were buying "Super Hot Hits '92" at Target I was rocking mix tapes of the Beastie Boys, Public Enemy, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy, Rage Against the Machine, the Infectious Grooves, Faith No More and Living Colour.
While everyone else was singing along to Ace of Bass and Boyz II Men, I was riding on the tram wearing my cassette walkman silently mouthing "911 is a joke" and pretending my pretty western suburbs neighbourhood was actually a New York ghetto.
None of this, however, excuses me from the fact that my first ever album purchase was the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles soundtrack. I can only blame that on a temporary lapse of sanity, and also that I kind of liked MC Hammer at the time. (Hello, we ALL did.)
But it does explain why in 1992 I thought it would be an awesome idea to play the below song in my Year 7 "class karaoke" session, an activity my teacher no doubt thought would be a fun way to occupy his students for half an hour each week so he could get some marking done. He was in for a shock.
"I WILL BLOW THEIR TINY MINDS," I thought, knowing that the only RHCP song anyone at my school knew was "Under the Bridge".
Maybe I actually did, as everyone gave up on singing 10 seconds in, no one saw the funny side and my teacher banned classroom karaoke for the rest of the term.
It was worth it, though.