Pop Culture history has a habit of being re-written thru the lens of rose tinted, John Lennon glasses.
If we were to believe the music press, the 90’s would’ve segued directly from the heady days of Nirvana directly to the Britpop wars with Oasis & Blur dominating the charts single handedly supported by Richard Ashcroft.
The truth is rather sobering. There’s no real need to go into great detail about the horrors visited upon the charts by Whigfield and 3 months of Wet Wet Wet at number 1. I’d rather not be blamed for opening up old psychological scars or landed with numerous bills for therapy.
Under the white-wash hide a number of bands responsible for some great music throughout the 90’s who barely get a look in.
These are, in our humble opinion and in no particular order, the un-sung heroes of the 90’s.
1: The World Of Twist.
Although formed in the mid-80’s, Sheffield’s “The World Of Twist” didn’t get around to releasing their album Quality Street until 91 at the arse end of Madchester when novelty goons like Northside and CandyFlip were all that was left of the fight and attention began to turn to the US.
The album complete doesn’t quite do justice to the World Of Twist vision of Tony Ogden and Gordon King. The 3 singles approved by the band are value enough in themselves though, combining loping grooves and a canny pop sensibility with proggy undertones and willful weirdness. Their cover of The Stone’s “She’s A Rainbow” was one of the last pieces of music to have been produced by the legendary Martin Hannett.
2: Jellyfish
Another band out of step with the time Jellyfish went for big and sunny when the world was turning introspective & grimy.
Released in 1990, Bellybutton is 10 big slabs of summery guitar pop gorgeously rendered with such confidence it sounds like a ready made greatest hits compilation you can never quite play loud enough.
I can’t imagine their penchant for dressing like Dr Zeuss characters can have done Jellyfish any favours on the popularity front but it’s a bona fide tragedy they don’t get more props in the history of pop.
3: Lush
Their first EP released in ’89 Lush really came into their own spearheading the indie wall of sound movement sarcastically dubbed Shoegaze in the early 90’s.
It’s a simple equation: Loud, jangly guitars and dubby bass lay down a carpet of noise while the vocals of Emma Anderson & Miki Berenyi veer between Elizabeth Frazer graveyard floatiness and spiky, punky sarcasm.
Partly a victim of the rampant misogyny present in rock music, Lush are pretty much ignored when bands like Ride are revered. Nothing wrong with Ride, I like them but where as that band had a habit of descending into self indulgence, Lush continued to hone their perfect capsules of pop right up until Lovelife which saw them embrace a punkier sound perfect for cleansing the palette of the cloying 60’s aping Dad-rock excesses of the time.
4: The Sabres Of Paradise
Andrew Weatherall (or as I like to call him, God) has appeared in many mysterious ways over the years. His defining guise was The Sabres Of Paradise. 2nd album proper Haunted Dancehall couldn’t have been more aptly titled, reminiscent of a collection of supernatural EVP recordings from a club owned by Aleistair Crowley and Anton LaVey.
From 92 to 96 no self-respecting artist could release a single without a remix by Sabres Of Paradise. Everyone from New Order to Therapy was flung, mercilessly into Lord Weatherall’s spooky dub pit.
5: One Dove
With Sabres at their peak, Andrew Weatherall began working with Glaswegian trio One Dove on an album that would fuse his dub and techno sounds with expansive, melancholy pop tunes.
Dot Alison’s voice & lyrics held a romantic sadness normally associated with the beleaguered heroines of Country & Western (Final single Why Don’t You Take Me features a glorious cover of Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” as the b-side)
With origins firmly in the layered, dubby sounds favoured by Leftfield, Underworld & William Orbit’s “Guerilla” label One Dove’s “Morning Dove White” and accompanying remixes by the great and the good of the early 90’s is still a forgotten gem whose influences can be heard echoing throughout the decade in bands like Olive, Kosheen and some of all conquering All Saints’ better songs.
6: Moloko
Roisin Murphy & Mark Brydon met in a club in the early 90’s where Murphy’s chat up line was “Do You Like My Tight Sweater”.
This went on to be the title of their first album & says a lot about the band’s relationship and output. Somewhat off kilter and weirdly sexy, there’s quite a bit of Giorgio Moroder in Do You Like My Tight Sweater and the art pop influence of Laurie Anderson. Roisin is also a big fan of Grace Jones.
Moloko had a troubled relationship with critics, being mystifyingly dumped into the “Trip Hop” box which makes absolutely no sense. Their one big hit “Sing It Back” became a poisoned chalice as audience and critics alike seemed to expect Moloko to churn out variations on a theme. The fact that the album version, with it’s glitchy tango rhythm and vibrating Rhodes is far superior to the admittedly fun but empty remix that hit the charts is a prime example of how Moloko were a band who tread their own path whilst others constantly tried to turn them into something less interesting.
7: Super Furry Animals
Super Furry Animals, relentlessly experimental yet like many of the bands featured here, still retaining a glorious pop sensibility. Allow me to disappear up my own firmament briefly because my love for this band knows simply no bounds. Super Furries could be seen as the Wes Anderson of British Music. They have over 22 years created, expanded and evolved a sonic world all their own showing love for every feasible musical genre from Americana to Drum N Bass, but somehow still manage to sound like SFA. At the heart of every song, be it a Welsh language folk song or a techno wig-out, there is a harmonic sensibility that equals that of their collective hero, Brian Wilson.
Yet despite this and a fanbase as rabidly loyal as myself, Super Furry Animals have never been afforded the credit due for pushing the boundaries of experimentation in accessible pop.
8: Orbital
Orbital have come to be seen as music for Middle Aged ex-ravers and nerds. Well if the shoe fits etc. It’s too often forgotten that during the 90’s, in the midst of an invasion of novelty Beatles and Kinks pastiches, Orbital brought Acid House to Glastonbury and for the next decade gave dance music an unprecedented sense of musicality and genuine performance that stands up today.
From the relentless, apocalyptic party of The Brown Album to the hugely under-rated dance symphonics of Insides Orbital deserve to be remembered for introducing sophistication to dance, rather than being two bald blokes with torches on their heads.
9. Elastica
So this one I kind of understand. Justine Frischman never came across as the most likeable person in the world and Elastica magpied their sound so brazenly they were sued by both The Stranglers & Wire.
Where Dickishness and plagiarism appeared to be a boon for the Gallagher Brothers, it was a stick with which Elastica were mercilessly beaten in the press.
There was a knowing air to Elastica’s theft and mutilation of punk and new wave that took them closer to the YBA’s than Brit Pop which was probably ammunition enough to raise the ire of fans of Oasis who saw the mulit-millionaires as Working Class Heroes and Elastica as the enemy.
But if you can disconnect yourself from the ludicrous, school yard V-flicking for a minute it’s not just Elastica’s debut album that’s worth a revisit, give 2000’s “The Menace” a spin and you’ll hear where Yeah Yeah Yeah’s took their own schtick from.
10. Lamb
When you’ve created and defined an entire sound with the style and accomplishment achieved by dual Bristol Sound Juggernauts Massive Attack & Portishead, any artist working within the same soundscape is likely to come on as a bit of an also ran.
Where-as some bit the bullet and went full winsome, aiming directly at the Cold Feet / Ikea market (Zero7 we’re looking at you) Lamb stuck to their melancholy, off-kilter, guns turning out a succession of uncompromising albums.
Even at their most discordant, Lou Rhodes naïve vocals lend Lamb a beauty and emotion that out strips even Beth Gibbons at times.
20 years on Lamb continue to be sonic world builders. Re-forming to release Backspace Rewind last year, they’re still a band worth your time.
This is by no means an exhaustive list and it’s not to say that Britpop produced nothing of note, plenty of good came (much of it via Jarvis Cocker) before it descended into Dad Rock drudgery. If you feel we’ve been unjust or wholeheartedly agree let’s pick up the subject on Facebook. Hit the big F up-top.
Before wrap up the 90’s, honorable mentions go to:
Mecury Rev
Cornelius
Belly
Sugar
Spiritualized
