Robbie Williams is one of Britain’s most popular singers. He eschewed boyband stigma following his time in ’90s teenyboppers and ballad-peddlers Take That to carve out a career of his own, and has successful straddled popular success with middlebrow critical recognition since then, to greater and lesser extents. (He’s currently on a something of an upswing; 2006’s oft-derided Rudebox is probably the nadir).
Across a seventeen-year solo career, Williams has racked up eight number-one albums here (from a total of nine to date; the lone outlier made it to #2), two number-one compilations and a number-two live album. He’s garnered a mighty twenty-nine top-ten singles, seven of which made it to number one. He’s been the subject of intense, exhaustive British press coverage, sundry addictions, women and his rivalry and subsequent patch-up with Take That frontman Gary Barlow among the most popular red-top stories of the late ’90s and early ’00s. And he’s still a major draw; his most recent number one track, “Candy”, was released just last year, and garnered him saturation TV and radio play.
And yet he’s seen almost no success in the States. Wikipedia doesn’t even list a USA column in his discography, so infrequently has he troubled their Billboard charts. One of the most famous people in Britain is an also-ran in the US, vaguely remembered for “Angels” and probably not much else.
It’s not for want of trying. A 1999 deal with Capitol in the US saw Williams and co seek American success. The Ego Has Landed was the first release there, a “best-bits” compilation of his first two UK LPs; in theory, an album of ready-for-radio-play material and no also-rans should’ve been a runaway hit. Alas, it wasn’t to be. (It was a tactic also pursued by similar-era teenyboppers Steps, to similarly limited success.) While the LP eventually went RIAA Gold it didn’t produce a solitary hit single – Angels came closest, at #41 – and major radio stations and TV channels didn’t really embrace the music (beyond that funky Millennium video).
Subsequent years, and attempts, saw the same results. Robbie Williams claimed disinterest in pursuing the country further, and that’s somewhat borne out by a lack of tour dates on the continent post-’99, but his next two albums did get CD releases there, and the videos still hit MTV and sisters – albeit in very limited rotation. Sales dropped even lower, though, so for a half-decade, there were no US releases; 2009’s Reality Killed the Video Star saw Capitol give things another go-round, but it only hit #160 on the Billboard 200. Williams even resided in the US for much of the 2000s, so promo was simple and practical; it mattered not a jot.
I’ve discussed the reasons behind some artists seeing greater success in the UK than the US before. But Williams is different: a UK artist that actively tried to conquer the US, and failed. Meat Loaf and Blondie are American artists whose values and stylings happened to jibe more with UK tastes, but they’re still recognisable names at home; Williams’ situation is rather different, a man who’s seen phenomenal success at home, but to whose charms an entire, demographically-similar continent are immune.
A polemic 2003 Salon article has some ideas about why Williams never really caught on in the States. They’re not particularly pleasant towards the man, describing him as “imitation American”. The intimation, of course, is that American isn’t likely to embrace a rip-off of its own brand. They might have a point; Williams has expressed love of the US on many occasions, and that’s not really endeared him to either us or them. And his personality is a little narcissistic – but, with genuine respect, I can’t fathom that as problematic when it comes to tackling the USA, wherein so very many of the best-known celebrities care about themselves and themselves alone.
Two guesses which one features the Sinatra cover, first doesn’t count.
Elsewhere, though, they’re even wider of the mark. His “lack of great talent” is “democratic and reassuring”? Please. We like the underdog, sure – so does the States, mind – but we don’t allow people to coast on good vibes for upwards of two decades. Look to one-and-done talent show winners for evidence of our Everyman support, but not to one of the most successful chart acts of the past twenty years. Our sympathy pockets aren’t that bleeding deep.
No, I think Robbie’s failure to break the big time across the pond comes down to something simpler. Cheekiness. Cheekiness is a characteristic that has no readily-apparent US equivalent. It’s an attribute of someone who’s a little bit impudent, a little bit playful, a little bit naughty. It can be loosely sexually-charged, but it’s just as readily associated with a misbehaving child “answering back” vaguely wittily. It has the uncanny and unmatched ability to prick pomposity, and every last Briton grows up with an in-built understanding of the concept.
NSFW video
The distinct Britishness of cheekiness is a matter on which the BBC wrote about just this past week. It’s a mostly-good article, and I recommend reading it, but it skims over one of the key elements of British personality: our ability to poke fun at ourselves. While we’re a quiet, reserved people (on paper, at least), our comedy is notably self-effacing and modest. We embrace those who break through the glum, detached British facade and poke fun at our foibles; we love the cheeky ones. (Fuck, we even got a novelty pop band called The Cheeky Girls to number one, though the less said about that the better.)
And Robbie Williams is the living, breathing embodiment of ‘cheeky’, his insouciant wit and sauce nonpareil. Salon derides his attitude as Americanised but I’d say it’s closer to a harmless, bantering lad in the pub – the “cheeky chappy”. The kind of guy the majority of Britons feel some degree of affinity towards, even if he does grate from time to time; he’s got the romantic, “Angels” side yet can still act like an absolute wanker on stage – what’s not to love?
It’s worked with much of mainland Europe; while Williams’ biggest market remains, comfortably, the UK, his cheeky brand has been imported into Germany, Austria, Sweden, France and Ireland. Picking up fans in those countries has been a relative breeze, as those countries have embraced “cheeky” elements of British culture much more readily in previous years. But at this stage, hope for Williams breaking it into the US mainstream is vanishingly unlikely. His personality doesn’t quite fit in with the majority of major US talents: he’s not got the altogether brash cool of most hip-hop stars, and he’s lacking the (attempted) emotional sincerity of most major US pop stars. To a US audience, he’s probably something of an odd duck; “cheeky” isn’t something America embraces, loves, or aspires to be. I suspect that has played a key role in his limited success there: a personality he can’t just turn off; a country that just can’t quite jibe with it.
But in the UK, he continues to fit right in, detractors be damned. I’m not a major Williams fan but much of his work is above-average for the sector and genre, and his singles have real lasting power; “Millennium” remains on regular rotation in the UK thirteen years into the 2000s, and I continue to rate “Come Undone” (above) and “Strong” (below) as two of the strongest pop records of recent years. He’s a bit of a tosser sometimes, but he’s our tosser; luckily we’re pretty happy with that, seeing as the USA have given us little choice in that particular matter.
More from the week that was:
- At the box office, it’s been a relatively quiet period, as weak multiplex fare debuts to sub-£1m, week after week. This past weekend’s best-grossing release was Turbo‘s previews, but they don’t “officially” count until next weekend, so Prisoners can enjoy its third week at the top. It’s been holding very well to date, looking like a genuine word-of-mouth hit amidst a sea of mediocrity. Kudos, too, to Blue Jasmine: with around £3.5m to date, it’s easily Allen’s highest-grossing and most widely-released title to date, hitting saturation levels this past weekend (its third on release).
- They’re the exceptions, not the rule, though. Cast a glance over last weekend’s releases: the UK-US co-prod The Fifth Estate was the weakest “best opener” in years, while Baggage Claim, Machete Kills and European co-prod Romeo & Juliet bombed by every account, all missing the top ten.) This weekend should see the tides turn, though, as Turbo gets its official release alongside the heavily-buzzed Captain Phillips and the admittedly-bad-looking Escape Plan. More details at Charles Gant.
- Marvel’s Agents of SHIELD has been doing good business for the UK’s Channel 4. 3.2m for ep 1, 2.5m for ep 2 – very, very solid for that channel, double what the slightly offbeat network would usually expect in that slot.
- London’s hosting three NFL games at Wembley Stadium next year, up from two this year. American football is still very much a niche product here, rarely garnering mainstream press coverage, but anecdotally, it seems the number of UK fans is rising at a decent clip, as this move would suggest.
- Miley Cyrus is number one on the UK albums and singles chart this week; yay. Eminem‘s new track had to settle for second.
