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COOL BRITANNIA REVISITED
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W
hen Britpop was going off in
the ’90s, we had some cynical
distance from the hype. Life had
taught us the British press would build ‘em
up and knock ‘em down. Maybe this time
round with different clothes (shell suits?),
some anti-American jingoism (who needs
Nirvana when you’ve got Menswear?) as
well referencing the great heroes of the
’60s, Britpop looked as manufactured as
Tony Blair’s New Labour (which embraced
it.)But up close, it was exciting.
In the mid ’90s I interviewed Shed Seven
singer Rick Witter before a London show
and he was witty and sharp, and later they
played a great gig to a capacity crowd
which knew every lyric of their two albums.
One of the most memorable gigs I’ve
ever seen was Ocean Colour Scene at the
800-capacity Irish Centre on Digbeth Street
in Manchester. Singer Simon Fowler told
me they were filming it because they might
never play a venue that small again.
Then there was Oasis in a basketball
stadium in Leicester a week after their
triumphant Earl Court shows in London,
and while the joke was true about their ‘act’
– you might as well hold a postcard of them
at arms length and jiggle it about a bit –
they delivered a thrilling set. It was so good
I went for a curry and lager afterwards, just
to complete the experience.
And Pulp and Blur (Damon Albarn telling
me about the symbolism of Fred Perry
shirts) and . . .So many bands, but so few
making the leap beyond Britain.
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Above:
Oasis
Right:
Blur