My weekly HMV Communique email arrived today, and here is an excerpt:
THE MUSIC: Sure, it's tempting to take the British press with less than a grain of salt - remember Menswear? Adorable? Didn't think so. But at the very least this scraggly bunch pull off a powerful, tuneful reinterpretation of the groove-based rock that turned Manchester into the hub of modern culture.
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother receiving these newsletters anymore. I guess I like keeping abreast of what's "out there". I guess it's worth it if I take pleasure in making fun of them once in a while.
I've only been reading the British music press since 1992 (read: post-grunge, for the purposes of this discussion) but in that time, anything that is hyped over there is initially met with derision and skepticism over here. In some sense, the arrival of a new record by a British artist is treated like the release of a new computer virus: it's on it's way, so let's be vigilant and hope it passes quickly so we'll never have to mention it again. Thus, post-1992 or so, North American journalists by and large feel that this continent has regained a monopoly on producing good rock bands and passing judgment on them. As if being a fan of Nickelback or Limp Bizkit is something to be proud of.
Why is this? Grunge was so ten years ago. There's no exclusivity statute that gives anyone the right to claim a decade's worth of blanket superiority due to a couple of decent bands and ideas. Besides, Scotland's Teenage Fanclub's "Bandwagonesque" is the greatest grunge album ever made. "Nevermind"'s importance cannot be overstated, but people have just got to quit looking for sprinkles of Kurt's ashes every time they need a dose of credible/commercial appeal. I really can't come up with a good explanation for this arrogance, and I'm above trotting out top-of-my-head theories about trying to take the attention away from cooler-than-cool London after the 60's by creating a smear campaign to discredit British bands once glam became huge in the early 70's by preying on the homophobic tendencies of American rock fans.
Yeah, Menswear, oops, I mean Menswe@r, were embarrassing, and are deservedly the butt of Britpop jokes just like Northside are the butt of Madchester jokes. But everybody knew they were fourth-rate Britpop, and those who didn't know clued into it after about three months. It's a ridiculous mischaracterization to point to Menswe@r and say, "see, we told you Britpop sucked". That's like pointing at Vanilla Ice and saying "see, I knew that rap sucked", or pointing at O-Town and saying, "see, I told you that all boy bands suck and are nothing but fads". OK, they do all suck and are nothing but fads, but you see the point.
Adorable jokes have been making the rounds for ten years, mainly in British music press circles. Why people continue to besmirch their good name, I don't know, I've never understood it. They were hyped to ridiculous proportions, and it can be fun to knock a band down after that. (as an aside, I'm currently reading "The Creation Records Story", by David Cavanaugh, and I'm quite curious to hear what he and Alan McGee have to say about Adorable). They were caught between two trends, the shoegazing/grunge explosion on one hand, and whimsical Britpop on the other. Being on that bubble is just the best place to be if you want to be forgotten way out of proportion with your talent (see: Carter USM). And generally, 1992-3 were crappy years for music, particularly British music. Those years aren't remembered fondly these days anyway.
But Adorable had some wicked songs, a strong debut album (albeit a Verve release, see November 2001 for the definition), a good comeback single in 1994, big mouths, and were signed to one of the best labels in Britain. Radiohead took "Sunshine Smile", pumped it full of copycat American angst, retitled it "Creep" and had a big hit. Oasis took the attitude and aloofness and became megastars.
