NOT MY 1990s

A GUEST POSTING by STEVE McLEAN

JC writes…..

This particular piece arrived late on Monday evening, with the author being completely unaware that I’d scheduled an Oasis ICA for the following day. 

I’ve never been someone who turns down any offers to contribute to the blog.  And while I might not agree 100% with Steve on this occasion, he does make some highly interesting observations in his usual idiosyncratic fashion as becoming of someone who does a bit of stand-up comedy (at which point I should mention that his Edinburgh Free Fringe show on ‘Hair Metal’ was very energetic, entertaining and funny).

Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your hands together for the one and only, Mr Steve McLean………….

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Hello again Onliners! I’m back and this time I’ve got absolutely nothing to promote. A certain Mancunian band reforming have stirred me from my post-Summer slumber.

I get that Oasis mean a lot to a lot of people. Their crossover appeal did a shed load for converting those who were chart kids into guitar music, which ultimately gave so many other bands good careers…. But fucking hell, people (and I’m really addressing the current crop of British media), some of us thought they were just okay (and some of us secretly thought they were actually dull as shit but couldn’t be arsed having the conversation with the fishing-cap-wearing-bellends who had literally never heard another album and thought that the Verve were a bit leftfield because they sampled some violins).

I saw Oasis in 1994. I was with 500 other people at the King Tuts Tent at the first T in Park. They were young and vibrant and getting loads of press. I was 18, it was the first proper British music movement I’d been around for, so I should have been punching the air. The result for me was ‘Meh’

A lot of people will tell you that the King Tuts Tent was packed that afternoon and that the atmosphere was electric. What they won’t tell you is that it was absolutely pissing down outside (Strathclyde in July) and that The Crash Test fuckingDummies were on the only other stage at the same time. Frankly Yoko Ono performing songs of Sepultura would have seemed amazing in comparison to getting piss wet through and listening to “Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm” Actually I’d fucking love a Yoko Plays Sepultura gig.

DISCLAIMER: I might be allowing a low-level PTSD to cloud my judgement here. For about four weeks in 2013 I was the development producer for the Gallagher funded Supersonic documentary. I was massively miss-sold the project. I was galvanised by the promise of a film comparing the rise of Oasis / Britpop to the rise of New Labour and the political change in the country. Now this may or may not be a true comparison but it is an interesting concept. What the film ended up being was ‘Look how cool Oasis were. Isn’t Noel clever?’ I left the role after a month when it became apparent that it was just going to be a very long promo-video, I had to sit through around 30 live versions of Live Forever (although I did rob a load of Post-It notes from the Ignition Management offices…. At least someone involved in the project still understood what rock’n’roll was about).

So I’ve put together an alternative 90s playlist. Don’t worry I’ve not been a wanker (well not about the playlist, but in other aspects of life I definitely have been a wanker) I’ve not filled it with shit like Aqua or Wigfield (Although Dr Jones was a banger). Depending on who you talk to; the end of Britpop is placed at anywhere between 1996 to 2000, certainly the embers had just about gone out by the time the Strokes turned up in 2001. So from ’94 until the year 2000, here’s the 1990s that I enjoyed.

1994

Cement: Dancing from the Depths of the Fire

I’ve wanged on about Chuck Mosely on this platform before and I was right to do so as he was fucking brilliant. He’s not for those who like singing in tune or singing with timing or singing words that you can always understand but he was still fucking brilliant. Cement were formed after he’d been kicked out of Faith No More and then kicked out of Bad Brains. In defence to Chuck I imagine it was everyone else fault and not him. This song is probably the stand out track from the weaker second Cement album.

Reason why it’s better than Oasis: You can make a strong argument that Chuck Mosely was the first person to rap over hard rock music (in 1984). He probably created a whole new genre that went on to be popularised in the late 90s. People will say that the annoying bloke from the Chili Peppers did it first but if you listen to their first albums the music is weak af and sounds like a cat having a burning piss. By contrast Oasis where the first band to plagiarise a Coca-Cola advert. Nothing says rock’n’roll mega-global-teeth-rotting-business.

1995

Bjork: Army of Me

Everyone went nuts for Bjork‘s first album, Debut. It was bleepy and bloopy and lovely. High street shops played it to death, you’d always hear it in clothes retailers like Next, Gap and The United Colours of Ben Elton. So when Army of Me came out it was a real fuck you to the coffee table set. To be fair she’s warned us what was coming with Play Dead but we didn’t listen. This song is a proper back alley bundle. The Led Zep sampled drums give a platform for a tirade against wasters and stoners (I think intended to be over-privileged-poverty-tourist grunge kids but it’s easy to choose to interpret it as swipe at the Britpop lads… And I do choose to do that). For an extra slice of ‘holy shit!’ check out the Skunk Anansie duet version.

Reason why it’s better than Oasis: When Oasis acted hard they called George Harrison a nipple and swaggered around like wankers in a Spoonies. When Bjork kicked off she was like Muhammad Ali beating the shit out of Ernie Terrell

1996

Tori Amos – Professional Widow (Van Helden remix)

If you ever wonder what a producer does then check out the original version of this song and compare it to this banging dance floor classic. The song is rumoured to be about Courtney Love, not that you’d know from the 20 words actually sung in the remix version.

Now Tori (unfortunate name) was a songwriter who delved deep into world problems, drew on personal experience and produced work that was both challenging and beautiful. Also she never ever once confused the words ‘Our’ and ‘Are’ in a song title and then pretend it was intentional after everyone pointed it out.

Reason why it’s better than Oasis: Tori’s previous band were called Y Kant Tori Read? Which is a shit name but represents a bold attempt at getting noticed. Oasis previous name was Rain which is terrible name and represents the true nature of the band. Wet and miserable (I can actually enjoy rain if I’m in the right mood, unlike Oasis).

1997

Ben Folds Five – The Battle Of Who Could Care Less

The BFF were referred to as the Indie-Elton-Johns, which isn’t a bad title. Like Army of Me above, this is another swipe at MTV wasters. A brave move given the average American rock fan of the time was literally apathetic to apathy. Ben Folds Five were kicking hipsters in the dick before they were referred to a hipsters. Oasis didn’t kick anyone in the dick because it would have involved getting off the sofa and missing an episode of Hollyoaks.

Reason why it’s better than Oasis: Piano! In a world of torrid trudgy bleh guitars, the BFF said ‘no thank you, sir’ and wrote songs that only musicians could play. You might say ‘that’s elitist’ to which I’d reply ‘So you like those 2am versions of Wonderwall that some tedious fucknugget plays on an out-of-tune guitar at parties then?’ To which you’ll almost certainly answer ‘I don’t know, no one invites me to parties anymore’ and I’ll reply ‘that’s because you always bring your fucking out of tune acoustic guitar. You’re literally the problem, Simon.

1998

Air – Sexy Boy

Frenchpop vs Britpop. Sorry Britain, but I’ve always been a collaborator. Do you remember when this came out? All those guitars that were making your ears bleed suddenly gave way to this calm beauty. It must have been what it was like when electropop stole the thunder from New Wave in the early 1980s. I’d say it was Laurie Anderson meets Kraftwerk with ELO tunes but I’d sound like a tosser so I won’t (note to other tossers – being self aware allows you to continue to be a tosser without any life adjustments, Just ask Noel G). The song just breezes in and doesn’t give a fuck that you like dad-rock. The B-side (like all 1990s French pop B-sides) features Francoise Hardy.

Reason why it’s better than Oasis: Fans of Air had to learn how to read French in order to sing along with the lyric sheets. Fans of Oasis had to learn how to read.

1999

Hefner – The Hymn For the Alcohol

Personally I think 1999 might have been the real year Britpop ended. Suede released Head Music and everyone knew that the game was up (Arse Music would have been more apt). It was also the last of so many hurrahs. The last great David Bowie album came out (Hours), The Slim Shady LP took hip hop into the US suburbs, finally seeing off the Beavis and Butthead culture that didn’t realise they were the joke and Kula Shaker were about to fuck off for the best part of a decade.

Darren Hayman is a world class songwriter. This is where the anger really rises in me because by the late 90s Oasis were shitting out absolute gibberish. Even the hardiest Oasis denier can’t argue that they did have something, but where once was aggressive cock-rock was now replaced by flaccid, floppy air-wanks.

For a short while bands like Hefner and Belle and Sebastian put indie music back in the hands of actual indie music fans, but the damage had been done. Hayman is never generic, he rarely goes for the easy rhyme and all of his subjects come from a place of personal connection and unlike so many songwriters of the time he rarely indulges in tabloid sloganeering.

Reason why it’s better than Oasis: Oasis sang Cigarettes and Alcohol and said absolutely nothing about the subject. Hayman wrote separate songs (Hymn for the Cigarettes and Hymn for the Alcohol). He deep dives into both of them, covering everything for drunken sex to the self loathing of returning to addiction. When it comes to cigarettes and alcohol, Oasis are Heat magazine and Hefner are the New York Times.

2000

Grandaddy – Jed’s Other Poem (Beautiful Ground)

And then just as the Britpop fire was going out, Grandaddy came along in the late 90s and showed the world that you didn’t have to be a tedious-upper-middle-class-art-school-Caspian in order to use analogue synths (I am looking at you here, Radiohead). The Sophtware Slump is officially the seventh best album ever released (it’s my list, I’ll put it where I want). Jed the humanoid is a reoccurring robot character in Grandaddy-verse, functioning with the future-the-1970s-predicted vibe. Falsetto vocals and lush keys mean that Grandaddy offer a bit more to the music lover than that the average 90s band. They have a ‘Prepared-to-fail’ attitude and certainly some of their early releases can be hard work. It is this honesty that allows them get in you head.

Reason why it’s better than Oasis: People often say that Grandaddy songs sound like demos and wonder what could be achieved with state of the art production facilities and millionaire producers…. Jesus, you can really see where I’m going with this, make your own punchline up.

I think that’ll do. I’ve not even included anything by Mercury Rev or Cake or Natalie Merchant or Porno for Pyros who all released their finest records in this period. To be fair I was going to include Cake until I heard about what a nasty piece of work the drummer turned out to in in 2014, but even then I was toying with including them and saying ‘Well at least Cake can get arrested in America, unlike Oasis’ but I thought even more me that’s a touch too far.

If you love Oasis, I’m happy for you. If you’ve paid £500 to see them and you’re happy with that then I’m happy for you. I like it when people are happy and things that make them happy should be celebrated. But I feel we are too often dragged into a Mandela Affect when it comes to nostalgia. There were loads, actually hundreds of great bands (and Northern Uproar) that never get a look in anymore because we allow others to do our remembering for us.

Not everyone had the same 1990s and even those that did were possibly the victim of spin. Helen Love put it best ‘All you boys in Ocean Colour Scene, You’ll never sell more singles than Gina G’

STEVE