Robbie Williams, the iconic British entertainer, boldly declares that social media would have been his downfall in the 90s. But here's the kicker: he believes it’s the British knack for self-depreciation that’s both our greatest flaw and our charm. In a candid interview with BBC News, Williams reflects on his three-decade-long career, kicking off his Long 90s Tour with a mix of nostalgia and newfound appreciation for his success. And this is the part most people miss: while he’s celebrating, he’s also dissecting the British tendency to downplay achievements—a trait he sees as uniquely ours, for better or worse.
At 51, Williams is revisiting smaller venues, reminiscent of his early solo days, and releasing Britpop, an album he’s dreamed of creating since leaving Take That. Collaborating with legends like Gary Barlow, Gaz Coombes, and Tony Iommi, the album is a love letter to an era he views with mixed emotions. Controversially, he claims the 90s were the last truly great decade for pop culture, arguing that everything since has gone bland. But here’s where it gets controversial: while he acknowledges the era’s vibrancy, he also recalls battling severe depression during his peak success, unable to feel joy despite his triumphs. Is it possible to romanticize a decade while admitting it was personally devastating? Williams does just that, calling the 90s ‘an amazing time to have a bad time.’
His struggles with stage fright are well-documented, but fatherhood became his turning point. The birth of his daughter, Teddy, in 2012, shifted his perspective. ‘The world started to make sense,’ he says, ‘because I stopped running from responsibility and started embracing it.’ Now, he cherishes his role as a father and performer, calling it ‘the best job in the world.’
Williams also opens up about his tumultuous relationship with the British press, which hounded him relentlessly during his solo career. He argues that the media’s obsession with tearing down successful figures is a toxic cycle—but one he’s finally escaped. ‘I’m in a different place now,’ he asserts, enjoying a quieter life focused on music and family. Yet, he wonders if social media would have broken him in the 90s, admitting he’s prone to fixating on negativity online. ‘Is there something wired in us to seek out problems?’ he asks, inviting us to ponder our own digital habits.
The question on everyone’s mind: will Robbie rejoin Take That? While he’s spoken fondly of the band and their recent documentary, he remains coy. ‘I absolutely loved it,’ he says, ‘but who knows what the future holds?’ As the 30th anniversary of Take That’s first split (and his birthday) approaches, he reminisces about buying a Scalextric from Harrods in 1996—a far cry from rockstar antics.
Looking ahead, Williams has ambitious plans: building hotels with integrated venues and launching a ‘university of entertainment’ to revolutionize education. ‘It’s my revenge on a system that left me with nothing but a D,’ he quips. With Britpop out now and the Long 90s Tour underway, one thing’s clear: Robbie Williams is far from done. But here’s the real question: can he truly escape the self-depreciation he claims to embody? And do we even want him to? Let us know in the comments—this is one debate that’s sure to spark opinions.
