Dedicated to my friend Tony: a true devotee of the ’90s, perhaps the most passionate soul of that decade I’ve ever known.

You’re Getting Old

If you’re reading this, chances are a simple funky slap lick on an electric bass can throw you straight back into the ’90s.
Those sitcom jingles that made us laugh, cry, dream, and fall in love.
They were short, irresistible, and sounded like tiny bursts of joy.
One hit of groove — and suddenly, the world felt lighter.

Colors, Cartoons, and Groove

It was the decade of bold colors — purple, neon yellow, and orange.
Of high-tech toys, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and the Game Boy.
A time when electronics exploded, and new, exaggerated musical styles took over — slap bass, wild groove, and pop that danced without asking permission.

There were the Spice Girls, Aqua, and TV shows like Boy Meets World and The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.
Everything shone with a playful, colorful energy, the child of a design language that became the visual icon of the decade: Memphis Design.
Geometric lines, bright contrasts, playful shapes — a visual jam that mixed art, irony, and everyday life.
Even sound had color back then, and the brightest of all was the sound of slap bass.

Jingles — The Pure Breath of Groove

There were the ’90s, and then there was the sound of the ’90s — the TV jingle, that tiny groove-packed bridge between scenes where the bass took the spotlight and told its own story.

Just think of Seinfeld — those quirky, syncopated bass pops by Jonathan Wolff, improvised to match every punchline and pause. It wasn’t background music; it was dialogue made groove, turning comedy into rhythm itself.

Sitcom jingles weren’t just intros or fillers.
They were narrative bridges, clearing your attention after a dialogue, wiping the screen clean to make room for a new mood.
They made you breathe — through rhythm.

Those jingles were groove in its purest form, like miniature funk jams compressed into seconds.
The bass didn’t accompany — it led.
Every slap and ghost note was a rhythmic smile, a spark of energy.

Listen to Seinfeld: that synthetic, playful bass by Jonathan Wolff was almost another character, trading lines with Jerry and Kramer.
Or The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air: that slap groove didn’t just open the show — it defined it.
Bright, bold, alive.
The sound of a TV era that dared to groove.

And then came Friends — the show that turned laughter into ritual and made a coffee shop feel like home.
Running from 1994 to 2004, it became the definitive sitcom of its era, the most quoted, most rewatched, and most expensive show in streaming history.
As noted in Friends and the Golden Age of the Sitcom (Library Journal), it marked the peak of a form that shaped American pop culture from Seinfeld to Scrubs.
Its secret? A perfect blend of rhythm, timing, and warmth — the same pulse that every great groove shares.
Because, just like a good bass line, Friends wasn’t just heard — it was felt.

The Double Bass in the Shadows

During the age of excess, electric instruments and bright rhythms ruled the stage.
New technologies and a taste for punchy tones had pushed the old classics aside.
The Fender Precision and Jazz Bass took a step back, replaced by newer models and active electronics born in the ’80s.

And the double bass — never truly mainstream outside of jazz — saw its few remaining spotlights slowly fade.
Yet, like every instrument that breathes time and soul, it didn’t take much to bring it back: a few songs, a few brave recordings.
By the late ’90s, early 2000s, the double bass was being heard again — rarer, wiser, but still full of dignity.

The King Was Called Yamaha

As the great classics — from the Fender Precision and Jazz Bass to our double bass — quietly stepped aside, a new sound was ready to claim the stage.
The ’90s loved excess, speed, and brightness, and in that electric fever, music needed an instrument that could speak the new language of groove.

Then came a generation of active basses — powerful, precise, built to push beyond mere accompaniment.
Five strings to expand the range, onboard electronics to sculpt the tone, and that deep, solid punch that shook sitcoms and commercials alike.
It was the voice of the jingle, the sound that made people laugh, dance, and feel the rhythm of the era.

In those years, the electric bass didn’t just support the music — it commanded it.
And one instrument in particular became the symbol of that revolution: the Yamaha BB Series — modern, reliable, elegant.
A design that brought the five-string to the mainstream, reaching lower frequencies where Fenders never dared, and setting a new standard for power and precision.

And then came the look — that unmistakable sea-green finish, shining like the neon logos and animated intros of the era.
A cult color, a visual icon of a time when everything — even sound itself — was filled with serenity and carefree energy, just like the beautiful ’90s that made it all possible.

Nostalgia

It was a time when the bass didn’t hide in the background — it owned the scene.
A fresh breath of rhythm flowing straight from the fingers, and still today, the moment you hear it, you’re right back there — in that colorful, ironic, endlessly groovy world.
Maybe that’s why every time a ’90s slap jingle comes on, we can’t help but smile — and feel, just for a second, like we’re home again.

If you enjoyed this piece and felt good in our company, come back for another story, another groove.
JDB