Sperger Ass


By Noel Oxford

Some might say (lol) that Supergrass are among the also-rans of the Britpop era. They’re no Dodgy, Gene or Ocean Colour Scene, but while ever they maintained a respectable following across their 15-year career, they’ve never really been recognised, to my mind, in line with their abilities. And, now, they’ve split up, which almost seems a novelty in this day and age.

As a band in the right place and the right time, Supergrass sizzled into the charts in like 1995 with that song nobody could escape or, to tell the truth, tolerate. They got to number one for three weeks, and then never quite struck that same swagger again. While less deserving acts like Oasis (and to a lesser extent, Blur) commanded the attention of the globe, Supergrass instead sort of toiled away in comparative obscurity, quietly getting more and more interesting. Thing is, they never really seemed to fit the Britpop mould that well, almost as if such hideously-named genre delineations are unconscionable nonsense to begin with.

I’m not going to make some sort of blubbing, saccharine hoo-hah about what Supergrass meant to me, and which of their albums I want played cover to cover at my funeral, but I will say this: if you’ve never listened to In It for the Money in an impelled car that is a car which is in motion, in the sunshine, with absolutely all of the windows down and some ugly cheap sunglasses on, then you’ve a wasted life on your hands.

And I don’t care that they’re not chuffing metal, alright? Listen to this:


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