Remembering the heady days of Britpop through its four best albums
There’s a special form of gatekeeping that doesn’t get called out enough, the sort whereby you can simply do nothing to break down the gap. The fact that I was born in 1996 means I can simply do nothing about the fact that I couldn’t fully experience the heady days of ‘90s Britpop. No matter how many times Noel Gallagher tells press outlets that the ‘90s were a better, simpler, more enjoyable time than we live in now, I unfortunately can’t turn back time to find out.
See, we millennial music fans, of course, know that Britpop gave way to the country’s most seminal music moments. We, too, fill our bedrooms with the innovative sounds of its records, enjoying Jarvis Cocker’s musings on modern Britain or Richard Ashcroft’s emotional take on the human condition. We’re not going to congratulate you for having the chance to live through it; we can only be envious.
Because the ‘90s was of course, an optimistic time for British art. A lucid landscape was created whereby Kate Moss, David Beckham and the Gallagher brothers could rub shoulders at London nightclubs without traditionalists questioning how these art forms had suddenly merged. Everything and anything felt right.
It’s probably why a term like Britpop was coined with no real pushback. Fun enough to be edgy, not too corny to be too commercial, it perfectly embodied the sort of upbeat rebellion British art was leading in the face of American grunge. It had an intelligent swagger to it that the name duly denoted and gave way for a brand of icons who straddled the line between scruffy and tailored to lead it forward.
While ‘The Big Four’ Britpop bands, Oasis, Blur, Pulp and The Verve were lining their pockets handsomely through the movements success, something about it felt deeply communal. In essence, it was music by the people for the people. And while many came and went, these four titans delivered the seminal records that denote such a fruitful time in British history. So what are their best?
The four best Britpop albums:
Britpop’s deepest cut: ‘Urban Hymns’ – The Verve
Release Date: September 1997 | Producer: Chris Potter | Label: Virgin Records
Britpop had a unique ability to seamlessly cross over the brutal worlds of football and the tender communities of art. Fans went from arm in arm on the terraces to on each other’s shoulders in the mosh pits, and for some reason, Richard Ashcroft’s voice embodied that. It was equal parts aggressive and vulnerable; in fact, you could picture him with his arms aloft, complaining to a referee and telling him to “fuck off” with the same sense of melodic knowhow as he showed on his songs.
Urban Hymns was ahead of its time in many ways. It challenged masculine ideals with an intricate sense of vulnerability, musing on addiction, loss and societal disconnection with quiet confidence. While many of the Britpop acts around them were embracing this newly discovered landscape of economic and societal liberation, The Verve were doubling down on existential questioning and reminding the world of the cruel underbelly that capitalism hides.
Standout track: ‘The Rolling People’
Britpop’s flagbearer: ‘(What’s The Story) Morning Glory?’ – Oasis
Release Date: October 1995 | Producer: Owen Morris | Label: Creation Records
In the mid-1990s, it wasn’t just British artists who reserved the right to practice arrogance. Their fans were living in the midst of artistic bliss, drowning in cross-pollinated creation that thrust the entire youth of the country into the limelight and made the artistic envy of the world. (What’s The Story) Morning Glory? was the soundtrack to that.
The swagger of ‘Roll With It’, the emotion of ‘Champagne Supernova’ and the wry wit of ‘She’s Electric’ were all visceral representations of the boots-on-the-ground feel of ‘90s Britain. While their debut album set out a rebellious stall, their sophomore epic embraced the celebration of their newfound economic freedom, a liberation that mirrored the booming excitement of New Labour’s modern Britain. Britpop was arguably the last chapter in history that practised an enlightened way of living, devoid of technological trappings and this rousing epic of a record soundtracked that.
Standout track: ‘Champagne Supernova’
Britpop’s engine room: ‘Different Class’ – Pulp
Release Date: October 1995 | Producer: Chris Thomas | Label: Island Records
At its most furious, Britpop became a little bit of a shouting match. As Oasis and Blur battled for the sunlight, Pulp quietly occupied the shadows of everyday realism, keeping an important ear to the grindstone while carefully stretching one foot into this glittering new reality. In turn, they created a true album of dichotomy, drenching their soundscape in catchy and poppy sensibilities, to celebrate the remaining romance of everyday Britishness.
“It still makes me shudder a bit today,” drummer Nick Banks recently said of the Britpop label. And understandably so, sometimes coined to represent a chipper chapter of celebratory British art. It was also a term simply used to connect two warring bands, at opposite ends of the country and spectrum. But in between were Pulp with Different Class, a record that wrapped its arm round the shoulder of the remaining generation and accompanied them into this exciting new world of joyful art.
Standout track: ‘Common People’
Britpop’s essence: ‘Parklife’ – Blur
Release Date: April 1994 | Producer: Stephen Street | Label: Parlophone Records
Despite all of the genuinely critical cultural shifts Britpop generated, I can’t help but shudder at the word. It feels like a corny representation of a blissfully ignorant time, a decade just before real parody seeped in where arrogance wasn’t ridiculed but celebrated. In short, if a historian found themselves looking for the saturated essence of Britpop, I would point them towards Damon Albarn repeatedly singing “Girls who are boys who like boys to be girls.”
It was quirky and arrogant bundled into one, giving the arthouse kids a reason to be cheerful, heard and celebrated. Despite the softly spoken, southern British accent it was delivered in, there was something deeply rebellious about Parklife that flipped quintessential British traditions on their head. The album’s title track lives long in the memory of music iconography because of how it blended style, comedy and musicality in one, telling everyday stories of British mundanity with puffed-chest pride, soundtracking this celebration of modern British art.
Standout track: ‘Parklife’
