I recall reading an interview with Elastica frontwoman Justine Frischmann years ago and, having been in and around the “Britpop” scene of the 1990’s, she remarked that she had expected the breakthrough in America Britpop band to be the Stone Roses.¹

It was funny to me, then, because I had never even heard of “the Roses” or even her own previous band at that time, Suede. But who knows why certain English-speaking acts go huge in the UK but not America: The Spice Girls made the leap, but Bush remained unknown in Britain; Radiohead crossed the briny deep and remained relevant in the UK, but Catatonia did not.

As it happened, Frischmann was the front-woman for a band that had a mixed leap: they landed a single or two in America, but were largely forgotten by the time of the release of their sophomore album, The Menace. So, that was the down side.

But the upside was their freshman album, the self-titled Elastica. Sexy, androgynous, flirty, witty, and funny, Elastica landed in the summer of 1995 with it’s provocative and catchy “Connection” hitting medium rotation on MTV. Shortly after “Connection,” “2:1” appeared as part of the Trainspotting soundtrack which helped lift Elastica’s profile.

Heading off to college in the Fall of 1995, Elastica was a resident in my dorm room CD changer. My earliest memories of schoolwork (doing “Contemporary Moral Problems” essay writing) have this album as soundtrack.

Giving the album (yet-) another listen after all these years, I couldn’t resist the pop hooks, the nostalgia, and fun of the album. I also couldn’t avoid the conclusion that I had memorized much of the lyrics incorrectly as I was unable to seine out the words through Frischmann’s Kensington accent which was further accented by snarls, slang, exclamations, and semi-orgasmic squeals. As it turned out, it didn’t matter: the hooky-ness of the songs, the energy, and the beat power over the fact that you didn’t hear every fourth word and, even if you did know them, many of the lyrics in toto are verbal experiments or lyrics à clef detailing some music-business society kerfuffle that you don’t have any context on anyway.

Don’t worry. Be happy.

Let’s go back to the midpoint of the 90’s and un-forget Elastica’s Elastica.