Why weren’t Supergrass bigger? I must admit, I had only the faintest awareness of them during the heyday of Britpop in the late 90s, owing mainly to their supremely irritating megahit “Alright”, which was enough for me to write them off as pea-brained, permanently stoned, studenty 60s throwbacks who lit their own farts for fun. But I’ve continued to hear good things about them, how they were one of the most underrated, interesting, and consistent British rock bands of the mid-90s, and so, on a whim, I thought, sure, let’s give these washed-up hippies a chance.
And to my great satisfaction and surprise, In It For The Money turns out to be one of the highlights of the Britpop era, better than most Blur or Oasis albums beyond era-defining sacred texts such as Parklife or Definitely Maybe. It was Supergrass’ second record, and to my mind, it belongs to that strange interim period between Britpop proper (which culminates in 1995 with the release of Morning Glory and Great Escape), and the post-Britpop comedown ushered in by more subdued releases like Urban Hymns and This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours, which of course, ultimately gave rise to the “Bed Wetter Rock” of Travis and Coldplay. In the UK, In It For The Money was successful and reached number 2 in the charts, but Supergrass’ appeal apparently did not translate beyond the British Isles, and the album failed to crack the top 20 anywhere else, with the sole exception of New Zealand, for some reason.
Why not? Maybe In It For The Money is just too spiky, for indeed, it is remarkably and consistently hard-edged. “Richard III” is careening punk – it was celebrated as such by the Prodigy’s Liam Howlett – and its sound is wholly representative of the rest of the album. There’s a curious mixture of influences on display: the rollicking glam of “Tonight”, the psychedelic keyboards of “In It For The Money” and “Going Out”; the proggy tempo shifts of “Sun Hits the Sky.” But whatever inspirations inform specific songs, the album’s sound is uniformly ear-splitting, the guitars abrasive, the shrieky vocals almost hair metal in their hysteria. It’s easy to forget that, for a time in the mid-90s, music this confrontational routinely got on the radio – think “Cigarettes and Alcohol” or “Song 2” – before Fran Healy’s woe-is-me moping made everything sound like a post-breakup mixtape put together by a jilted English Literature undergraduate.
Admittedly, the lyrics are not exactly Morrissey, but they’re also not Liam Gallagher or, for that matter, Fran Healy. The title track is a refreshingly cynical declaration of Supergrass’ mercenary intent; the sonic belligerence of “Richard III” is matched by bitterly ironic lyrics about “wondering why I have an opinion”; “Tonight” and “Going Out” are about how perilous nights on the sauce can be from the perspective of a celebrity; while “G Song” essays some simple-minded – though not entirely uninstructive – life advice (“there may be troubles in your mind / but maybe tomorrow could be fine”). The nebulous and frequently indecipherable lyrics, combined with Gas Coombes sometimes unhinged, sometimes sarcastic, sometimes downcast vocal style, lend In It For The Money a certain opaque mystery, especially because it’s a bit of an overlooked gem.
Maybe this abstruseness also partly explains why Supergrass didn’t go on to bigger and better things. Yes, In It For The Money showcased a style that was perhaps too abrasive and shrill for radio audiences already gravitating toward the gentler string-laden fragility of “Sonnet” and “No Surprises.” But more importantly, Supergrass were merely a great band with great songs, and couldn’t be so easily reduced to money-spinning pantomime gimmickry in the same way as northern hard lads Oasis, Laandaan cheeky chappies Blur, or even misery guts auteurs Radiohead. If they really had just been in it for the money, maybe Supergrass would’ve toned down their sound and marketed themselves better.
Overall rating: * * * *
Standout track: “Richard III”