In 1994, Oasis offered a reset for British indie rock. While the title of their debut album, Definitely Maybe, may have hinted at uncertainty, the siblings at the heart of the record were never anything less than 100 percent cocksure.

"We were ready to wipe everybody out," the band's most natural raconteur Noel Gallagher later revealed to Mojo. "However loud they were, we were louder. However fast they were, we were faster. However good they were, we would trump it." 

It was this unbridled bravura that helped the Manchester-based brothers Noel and Liam (who were renowned just as much for their musical talents as their uncanny ability to pick a fight with each other), as well as bassist Paul "Guigsy" McGuigan, guitarist Paul "Bonehead"Arthurs, and drummer Tony McCarroll fulfil such lofty ambitions. Oasis quickly became the U.K.'s biggest guitar band of the ‘90s with a no-nonsense sound which incorporated the spirit of punk, the swagger of Madchester, and the songcraft of Beatlemania. 

The rest of the world soon started to take notice, too. The album's "Live Forever" hit No. 2 on Billboard's Alternative Airplay chart, and Definitely Maybe reached platinum status in the States, paving the way for a GRAMMY-nominated mainstream breakthrough with 1995's follow-up (What's The Story) Morning Glory.  

Read more: Looking Back In Appreciation: 25 Years Of Oasis' '(What's The Story) Morning Glory?'

Just before Oasis released a 30th anniversary edition of their debut album, they gave fans an even bigger surprise: a reunion tour announcement. The band will perform 14 shows across the UK and Ireland from July 4 through Aug. 17, 2025, including four hometown shows at Manchester's Heaton Park and four shows at London's famed Wembley Stadium.

As you dig into Definitely Maybe's latest re-release — filled with outtakes, B-sides and live performances — revisit the original release and learn why Definitely Maybe is considered such a game-changer.   

It Brought Back Showmanship

As its name suggests, the shoegaze scene that defined British indie in the early 1990s desperately struggled with eye contact. Oasis, on the other hand, burst out of the blocks determined to connect with every single member of their audience. In the bold and bolshy form of Liam, they had the most magnetic frontman around. 

The younger Gallagher brother wasn't a Mick Jagger-style showman; you'd never catch him bouncing from one end of the stage to the other. In fact, he'd often stay rooted in the same spot for the entire set. But his now-iconic pose — hands behind his back, sporting a duffle coat, sneering into the microphone seemingly placed a few inches too high — was such an ebullient display of swagger it left fans continually transfixed. Just look at their Glastonbury 1994 performance two weeks after releasing their second single for proof.  

It Reflected The Working Class

While Britpop progenitors Blur and Suede emerged from the bohemia of London's art college scene, Oasis' roots were in the deprived Manchester suburb of Burnage. Noel spent his early adulthood as a roadie for neighboring indie favorites the Inspiral Carpets, while Liam had once joined his father laboring on building sites. As a result, they were able to reflect the lives of the masses far more effectively and authentically than most of their peers.  

Hailed as “one of the greatest social statements of the past 25 years” by manager Alan McGee, "Cigarettes and Alcohol" advocates hedonism as a means of escaping the drudgery of the 9-5. And "Slide Away," written by Noel about ex-girlfriend Louise Jones, proved that Oasis could even talk about feelings in a manner relatable to those who wouldn’t normally touch love songs with a 10-foot pole.  

It Wasn't Afraid Of The Obvious 

Unlike Blur's Parklife, Pulp's Different Class, or the majority of albums that defined the Britpop era, Definitely Maybe wasn't dripping in post-modernism, irony, or knowing winks. "What you see is what you get" was essentially Oasis' default approach. And while their lyrics were often of the "moon in June" variety (see "What a life it would be/If you could come to mine for tea" on "Digsy's Dinner"), their refreshing simplicity only added to their universal appeal.  

The Mancunians also weren't afraid to wear their influences firmly on their parka jackets' sleeves. The Beatles' fingerprints are all over the record as you'd expect from such devout acolytes. But Oasis also brazenly borrow from the New Seekers' Coca-Cola anthem "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing" ("Shakermaker") and T-Rex's glam rock classic "Get It On" ("Cigarettes and Alcohol"). "Never be afraid of the obvious," Noel once reasoned. "Because it's all been done before." 

It Turned Everything Up To 11 

It took three attempts to nail Definitely Maybe's towering Wall of Sound. The band first entered Wales' Monnow Valley Studios with the Kinks producer Dave Batchelor. But he struggled to replicate the energy of their live shows and apart from "Slide Away," all of his contributions were scrapped. 

Noel then took on producing duties alongside Mark Coyle, but their overdubbed attempt proved to be unsatisfactory, too. In the end, it was left to engineer Owen Morris to salvage from the sonic wreckage in a studio owned by Johnny Marr. Drawing upon techniques he'd learned from Phil Spector, Tony Visconti, and Bernard Summer, his final mix was so "in your face" that it apparently left the Smiths guitarist appalled. 

That was a lone voice of dissent, however, for a dynamic record which on the likes of "Bring It On Down," "Up In The Sky," and "Columbia," proved that sometimes, you just need to turn everything up to 11.  

It Had Ambitions Of Grandeur 

Brits aren't exactly renowned for their self-aggrandizing. So the Gallagher brothers raised several eyebrows when they immediately began shouting from the rooftops about their quest for world domination. "We don't want to be an indie band from England who've had a couple of hits," Noel told the Observer shortly before Definitely Maybe's release. "We want to go on and be an important band," he added before claiming that people would still be buying the record 20 years on. 

It wasn't just in broadsheet interviews where the Gallaghers blew their own trumpets, though. After all, Definitely Maybe opens with "Rock 'n' Roll Star," a clearer statement of intent you'd be hard pressed to find. Luckily, such unwavering confidence was justified. The album sold 86,000 copies in its opening chart-topping week, making it the fastest-selling debut in UK chart history. It also spawned four Top 40 hits in their homeland, helped Oasis win the Best New Artist BRIT, and boasts a worldwide sales tally of 8.5 million.  

It Reinvigorated The B-Side 

As its various special editions have further highlighted, the Definitely Maybe campaign kickstarted arguably the greatest run of B-sides of the ‘90s. Only Oasis would have the audacity to tackle the Fab Four's psychedelic collage "I Am The Walrus" — fully aware that they'd be inviting tribute act comparisons in the process — and then somehow make it their own.  

Best-known in the UK as the theme to slice-of-life sitcom "The Royle Family," "Half The World Away" is a beautifully melancholic acoustic ditty which proved the Mancunians were just as compelling when they dropped all the male bravado. Meanwhile, "Fade Away" channeled the filth and the fury of punk icons Sex Pistols on a bittersweet ode to growing up. All would make the cut for 1998's The Masterplan, the compilation of B-sides which outclassed most of their peers' A-games.  

It Single Handedly Saved An Iconic British Label 

From Teenage Fanclub's Bandwagonesque to Primal Scream's Screamadelica, Creation Records was responsible for releasing several truly seminal guitar records in the late '80s/early '90s. But thanks to the spiraling costs for My Bloody Valentine's opus Loveless and founder Alan McGee's issues with substance abuse, the label was at the risk of going under until they somehow managed to wrestle a certain Mancunian band from under the noses of all the majors.   

Definitely Maybe's domestic sales of 2.4 million proved to be a lifeline for Creation, allowing them to release acclaimed efforts such as Super Furry Animals' Fuzzy Logic, The Boo Radleys' C'mon Kids, and Saint Etienne's Good Humour. It also issued Oasis' follow-ups (What's The Story) Morning Glory and Be Here Now before McGee decided to pull the plug at the turn of the century.  

It Converted A Whole New Audience 

For better or for worse, Oasis' remarkable ascent coincided with the rise of laddism, a British — and typically white straight male — subculture in which sex, alcohol, and soccer (not necessarily always in that order) were the ultimate priorities. And unsurprisingly, the beer-swilling, Manchester City-supporting Gallagher brothers were soon adopted as its soundtrack.  

Oasis, or rather their marketing team, were particularly canny in how they reeled in legions of new fans who previously wouldn't have dreamed of spending their hard-earned cash on an album, placing Definitely Maybe advertisements in publications more focused on sport and clubbing than indie music. Such tactics created a loyal following who, thanks to singalong anthems like "Live Forever" and "Cigarettes and Alcohol," could replicate the atmosphere of the terraces at any gig. It's unlikely that the Britpop movement would have gathered such pace had Oasis not thought outside the box first.  

It Made Indie Music Headline News 

Oasis' increasingly bitter rivalry with Blur famously graced the BBC's Six O'Clock News on the eve of their historic 1995 chart battle. But the former had already made headlines several times during the Definitely Maybe campaign, and sibling rivalry was often the cause.  

Indeed, the Gallaghers quickly became a tabloid editor's dream, particularly during a Stateside tour in which the pair mistook crystal meth for cocaine, Liam hit his brother with a tambourine, and Noel briefly quit the group. Such was the fascination with the pair's fraught relationship that a recording of an argument — "Wibbling Rivalry" — even entered the lower reaches of the UK charts. 

Definitely Maybe put indie music on the map in places that previously wouldn't have gone near it. And for the next three years, they dominated both Britain's charts and newspaper columns like no other guitar band since or before.  

This summer, All Time Low have been commemorating 20 years together by revisiting some of their favorite venues around North America. Aptly titled the Forever Tour, the celebratory trek gave frontman Alex Gaskarth a revelation: his entire adulthood has been with the band.

"There's a lot of crazy things to fathom in getting your head around that concept," he tells GRAMMY.com. "We became the people we are today with the band being our primary focus. It doesn't always feel like it's been 20 years, but at the same time, it obviously feels like it's been 20 years. It's been my whole adult life, and it couldn't be anything else."

Gaskarth and his bandmates — guitarist Jack Barakat, drummer Rian Dawson and bassist Zack Merrick — started All Time Low while still in high school in 2003. For the first 10 years, they were mainstays of the pop-punk scene thanks to multiple Warped Tour stints and their 2008 classic, "Dear Maria, Count Me In." The next 10 years saw a commercial breakthrough, first with 2015's Future Hearts and then with their 2020 smash, "Monsters." 

When thinking about the next decade of All Time Low, Gaskarth insists they've hit a new stride. Not only are they selling out some of the biggest venues of their career, but they're playing longer shows than ever. "We're those veteran athletes that, like, their bodies have been through so much punishment that now the scar tissue and cartilage buildup is holding them together," he says with a laugh.

Though the Forever Tour wrapped in their native Baltimore, Maryland on Aug. 24 — their biggest hometown show to date — All Time Low are continuing the celebration with The Forever Sessions Vol. 1. The nine-song project features re-recorded versions of some of their signature songs, including "Dear Maria" and beloved deep cut "Jasey Rae." 

As the first release on their own label, Basement Noise Records, Gaskarth hints that The Forever Sessions Vol. 1 is the start of an exciting new chapter. "We made this year about celebrating the legacy," he says, "but we've also teed up a bunch of things to knock down in the future."

Below, hear from Gaskarth about some of the band's most memorable milestones — from playing their first Warped Tour to feeling like true rock stars at Red Rocks Amphitheater.

Signing Their First Record Deal With Hopeless Records

The Emerald Moon Records phase of the game was pretty loose in terms of what a record deal was. It was this guy — his name is Matt — he took us under his wing. He just saw a bunch of ambitious kids that wanted to give music a real go. He basically fronted the cash for us to do some real recordings and press a real record. I don't think we ever signed a piece of paper; it was done on a handshake deal. And then as we sold those records [2004 EP The Three Words to Remember in Dealing with the End and 2005 full-length The Party Scene], we paid him back.

I have to give Matt and Emerald Moon Records a ton of credit, because I don't think we would have signed a more national, international record deal without it. He helped us legitimize ourselves and be taken a little more seriously.

There were lots of bands around at the time that were a lot better than us, so it kind of took the right fit. We didn't even do a true showcase for Hopeless Records, so they took a leap of faith. I think what they loved was our ambition and our self-motivation, and [that was] maybe more important than how good we sounded. 

I don't think we realized at the time that our career was starting to take off. I think we were just starting to scratch the surface of having a career, and this becoming our livelihoods. Signing the deal felt like confirmation we're doing the right thing. It was making it all real.

[Hopeless] basically encouraged us to repurpose the Emerald Moon full-length. That was our first point of contention with the label. We were pretty insistent that we were going to go in and re-record those songs. In that batch of songs, we also wrote "Coffeeshop Soundtrack" and "Jasey Rae." Looking back now, I'm really happy that we pushed the label to let us make something new, even if it was some re-recorded songs. Because as the career got more serious, that EP, Put Up Or Shut Up, felt like the first stepping stone.

Playing Their First Warped Tour

We weren't even significant enough to [be] assigned a stage. It was kind of like we would show up and then take what we could get. At that stage of the game, it was like, "We'll find a place for you, but you've gotta wait. Come talk to us in the morning." There was a stage called the Kevin Says stage, which was [founder] Kevin Lyman's chosen baby bands. You had to help build that stage. It was like a circus — it came in on the back of a truck, and if you wanted to play it, [helping build it] was almost like a rite of passage to be taken seriously. 

I remember showing up at 7 [a.m.]. Two of us would split off, carry our merch to our merch tent and start building the merch area close to some bands that did good numbers — we wanted to be around where the big crowds were. The other two of us would start wheeling our gear in and help put this damn stage together so we could play the show. 

It was really intimidating. We would see people from bands that we loved walking around everywhere, and we were suddenly part of it. Then you're also trying not to fan out too much. And we were like, "Yeah, no, we belong here… but also, that's Patrick Stump [from Fall Out Boy]." 

I had a lot of moments where I'd walk around with our CDs and be like, "Hey, like my band!" It was a funny juggling act of imposter syndrome, not feeling like we belonged yet, while also learning to hustle ourselves to the crowds that were showing up. It was about establishing grassroots foundations and building a fan base. Had we not done it that way, I don't know that we would have made it 20 years.

Working With Blink-182's Mark Hoppus

I don't think we'd be a band without blink-182. Over the years, as we got a little more recognition, Mark reached out and asked to write together for All Time Low. It was either for [2009's] Nothing Personal or [2011's] Dirty Work. We worked on a song that didn't make a record, but it was the start of that friendship.

Mark's super funny and sarcastic; blink-182 are funny guys. So I would always try to be funny, but then I'd cringe at my own attempt to be funny, and he'd just roll his eyes. I have to give him so much love, because he saw whatever it is that people see in us, and took a shot on us. And even though the songs didn't come out, he continued to be a supporter in the wing. 

Fast forward a little bit, and we were working Future Hearts. At this point, we were texting buddies. I was like, "Hey, I think we have this song that you'd sound really cool on. Would you be open to doing this together?" He came on board for "Tidal Waves," and that was another special moment for us as a band — Rian had started engineering and producing a bit, and he engineered the session.

Mark's a really good friend of mine now, and we've gone through a lot together. I don't know that I really think about it, but if I zoom all the way out and think about our career and the way things have gone, yeah, I absolutely pinch myself. It is a dream come true for who I was when I started doing music, but now I just feel lucky to know the guy, because he's a really good dude. Sometimes you can meet your heroes.

Touring Europe With Green Day

I would say that blink and Green Day are the two powerhouses [that] shaped All Time Low. It was blink's friendship, and their antics, and the lightheartedness while still being a rad punk rock band. And then it was Green Day's performative value. Billy [Joe Armstrong], in my opinion, is one of the best frontmen. They're so polished. They're so perfect every time they play. 

When [Green Day] asked us to come out with them in Europe and support some shows, it was another one of those boxes checked, like, Hell yes — our heroes are seeing us for what we are, and they're seeing the fact that we're growing, and it's connecting.

It was some of the biggest shows we've ever played overseas. But for me, also, being a UK native and getting to play Emirates Stadium for all these people in England — especially being on the bill with Green Day — just a lot of special moments came along with that [tour].

As the front person in my band, it was really cool to share that stage directly and get to watch them every night and really focus on what makes Billy special and why he's so good at what he does. I've taken a lot of that from what they do, and I think it's made me better as a performer. I'll never forget Billy saying to me one day, "It's really awesome to see a band that works the crowd." It was this full-circle moment of being recognized for that.

The guys were so nice. Mike [Durnt] gifted Zack a bass on that tour. All of them made an effort to come and watch our sound checks. Down to their crew, the people that they worked with — everybody they kept around them was just cool. We walked away from that tour being like, "If we ever get that big, we've got to make sure that we're just as cool to the people that we bring out."

That tour helped us overseas tremendously. We went back after that and headlined, and all of the shows doubled in size. 

Headlining Their First Sold-Out Wembley Arena Show

Wembley is such an iconic venue. It's such a special and memorable place, and the fact that our band made it to that level to where we could headline that show was a huge milestone. A bunch of my family that lives over there came down for the show. It was just a special moment, and it felt like a celebration of what we'd accomplished up to that point. 

I'd just watched the Foo Fighters documentary where they headlined Wembley Stadium. That was such a crazy moment for them, and then we had this sort of parallel doing Wembley Arena for the first time. It made things feel as they were meant to, that we were on the right track.

We've gone back and done it again. We actually did a show pretty recently there, when our last album was coming out, we kicked things off with a show, and people came in from all over. We had fans from Europe, from up north in the UK, and people from Ireland. It was really rad.

Landing A No. 1 Album With 'Future Hearts'

A bunch of [our albums] up to that point had charted top 10, which was always really exciting, especially for an independent artist. But knowing that we were in contention for No. 1 was absolutely nuts. 

In the UK, it hit No. 1. In the States, it also debuted at No. 1 based on sales, but it was the first week in history that they started counting single streams to weigh debuts. So we actually lost out to the Fast and Furious soundtrack. There was a lot of tragedy tied to that movie, and the whole moment [with the song "See You Again"].

I do think some of it was timing. We were riding a high from our last album, [2012's] Don't Panic, which did some really incredible things for us. That was our recovery record after having a pretty tumultuous major label album with [2011's] Dirty Work. We did the deluxe version of that [that included a song] with Vic [Fuentes] from Pierce the Veil. And we did this amazing tour with them in the States that did really well for us. 

There was a huge amount of buzz for All Time Low coming off of that last record. And we came out swinging with what I think is one of All Time Low's bigger non-radio songs with "Something's Gotta Give," and things hit the right way. We had all this hype going into [the album]. 

I don't think we even perceived that we were having that kind of moment then. It was exciting to work with John Feldmann — that was the first time that we did a full record with him. We were kind of just riding this wave that was already crashing.

Earning Their First No. 1 Song At Alternative Radio With "Monsters"

When we were making [2020's] Wake Up Sunshine, we were living in this rented house in Palm Desert. We wrote ["Monsters"] and recorded the demo, and we were listening back to things that night. One of our writing collaborators on that song — he goes by Sweet Talker, his name is Kevin [Fisher] — looked at everyone and went, "That's a different level of special." We all felt like there was something about it.

The next time we were reminded was when blackbear recorded his part for the song. We got that version back, and went, "Oh, that's something we didn't know we needed." And then it wasn't really again until the song came out — because it wasn't the lead single, it was the single when the album itself dropped. 

It was deep in lockdown, so the world was really odd. We weren't touring, so it was kind of really hard to gauge what was happening with the album and that song, other than that it was streaming well. But then we started seeing numbers rise and rise. We started to get calls [that] it's moving up the charts, and people are trying to find out more about the song and more about the band. 

Then we started getting phone calls that we'd never gotten before: "Good Morning America," "Ellen," these late night shows. Then the song went on to do what it did — it hit No. 1 and maintained No. 1 for a really long time. I look at that and go, Wow, what a wild accomplishment to have happened 18 years into a career.

The nostalgia wave that happened with the genre that we came from, the Warped Tour world, and that whole thing, it felt somewhat tied to COVID and everything that we went through as a society. I think there were people seeking comfort from core memories. It was this perfect storm of people longing for something that they missed and weren't getting at the time, so that whole weird TikTok thing with "Dear Maria" happened. It was bizarre, because we had this brand new song that was radio's biggest alt song of the year, and also had "Dear Maria" going double platinum. We were like, This is a bizarre moment for All Time Low, but we'll take it.

It's funny that it happened that way. It speaks a lot to the way that this band operates. We don't shy away from where we came from. "Dear Maria" has always been the last song in our set. So it was a nice moment for all of us — the current version of All Time Low was popping off, and also the version of All Time Low that we started out on was popping off, too. 

Selling Out Red Rocks — Not Once, But Twice

We hadn't done a ton of that size venues in the States headlining. So coming out of lockdown and everyone just getting back on their feet in the world of touring, but realizing we were doing some of our best numbers, we were kind of like, Can we do that kind of show? We had no barometer for how to measure that, other than to try and swing for it. 

We went into it with really humble expectations. Red Rocks looks good if you do 5,000 tickets. We were like, we'll just have a great time. Then it blew through and sold out. It was just a holy s— moment in every respect. 

It kind of set the tone for where we felt like we were going. We have worked so hard to get this band to that point, and it feels like we've earned it. Those are the places we belong as a band now. It sounds a little cocky, but, as much as we can do the small rock clubs and love doing it, I've always seen this band as an arena band. This should be a f—ing stadium band. Why not? 

Going back and doing it for these Forever shows, the fact that we got to do it again, it solidified it wasn't just a moment. The second one was almost that much more special, because it was the longest show we've ever played to date. But it was also this confirmation that we've attained it, and it wasn't just luck. I think sometimes this band has been very lucky over the years, but more so, we've just worked our asses off to get things to happen, and that was kind of proof in the pudding — that we can rock with the best of them.

As its title suggests, the final album from iconic Mexican rock band Caifanes heralded an explosive new evolution in hybrid rock. El Nervio Del Volcán ("nerve of the volcano" in English), was the culmination of a years-long quest by the band to alchemize modern rock and Latin American music. 

Released June 29, 1994, El Nervio Del Volcán represents a high point of Mexico’s rock en español explosion. The 11-track album — the band's fourth release — saw Califanes continuing to explore the sounds of Mexico and Latin America, while broadening their sonic palette with jazz and country. 

Since their formation in 1987, Caifanes had been working to refine a sound that was both commercially successful, highly original, and beloved by critics and fans alike. For their efforts, El Nervio became the second Spanish-language rock album to chart on the Billboard Latin 50. Rolling Stone, which rarely gave Spanish-language music column inches, gave the album a glowing review. Caifanes became the first Mexican band to play on MTV’s "Unplugged" in October 1994. The next year, they opened for the Rolling Stones in Mexico City. 

While Caifanes might have been the leading band of Mexico’s rock en español movement, they were part of a cohort that included bands like Café Tacuba, Maldita Vecindad, and Fobia — which were experimenting with new fusions of traditional Latin American and rock sounds. Caifanes was at the vanguard of the Mexico City-centric movement, and El Nervio showcased the band's skill in developing "strong hits, and experimental things, which I think kind of worked," music journalist Ed Morales tells GRAMMY.com. 

In an interview, Mexican rock historian Federico Rubli calls the record  "a very important album, that maybe in its time wasn’t sufficiently appreciated. Even today, 30 years later, it’s difficult to recognize how great a work it was." If the crossover success weren't appreciation enough, El Nervio is notable for the way in which it set a high standard in songwriting and production for other bands that followed. 

Caifanes was daring beyond their sonic experimentation. Like most Mexican rock bands at the time, their music was prohibited from being played on the radio and they  risked arrest for performing. By the time of their first concert at the legendary Rockotitlan festival in Mexico City in 1987, though, there was no stopping what would soon become a new rock movement. The following year, they broke through the government’s music blockade when their first single, "Mátenme Porque Me Muero" ("Kill me because I am dying"), hit the airwaves. 

The follow-up single, "La Negra Tomasa," a post-punk inflected cumbia rocker that became a smash hit across the country, selling a record 500,000 copies. Their self-titled debut album was released shortly thereafter, with the band members looking like extras from a movie about goth subculture on the cover. Their third album, 1992’s El Silencio, found the band more musically confident than ever before. Producer Adrian Below — the former guitarist and frontman of King Crimson who had also played with David Bowie and Talking Heads — helped the band expand their musical palette with "cotton-candy high notes, rumbling ocean rhythms with upsurges that bellows like sea elephants," music critic Chuck Eddy wrote. 

Everything changed for the rock en español movement in 1993, when the pop-rock outfit Maná, which played a syrupy mix of tropical-influenced music, sold a million copies of its second album, ¿Dónde Jugarán Los Niños? Record labels were suddenly pursuing the next hit-making Latin band and BMG, which had signed most of the major rock en español bands, considered Caifanes its star rockers. 

The band had fractured as they prepared to go back to the studio, with original bassist Sabo Romo and keyboardist Diego Herrera leaving the group. With the increased backing by their label, the trio of lead singer/songwriter and guitarist Saúl Hernández, Argentine-born guitarist Alejandro Marcovich, and drummer Alfonso André traveled to Burbank, California, to record El Nervio Del Volcán GRAMMY-winning producer Greg Ladanyi (known for his work with Toto, Fleetwood Mac, and The Church) was brought into the O’Henry Sound Studios, along with a few special guests. Famed trumpeter Jerry Hey (known for his work on Michael Jackson’s "Thriller") and Graham Nash both appear on El Nervio. 

The songs that Hernández largely wrote and that the other band members would coalesce around were heavily influenced by Mexican folkloric sounds, though Marcovich in particular introduced a variety of Latin American sounds with his guitar. Throughout El Nervio, Caifanes flows effortlessly between genres:  a bit of rustic son huasteco ("La llorona"), jolts of metal ("El Animal"), and Caribbean rhythms  ("Aviéntame").

Rubli tells GRAMMY.com that the album was notably different from the band’s previous releases, largely due to Marcovich being given leeway with the guitar arrangements. "El Nervio Del Volcán is a much more rounded album, more integrated, with a sequence in each song that is, you might say, more logical," he says in Spanish. "And a lot of that is due to the liberty that Alejandro had to arrange them as he wanted."

Soul-stirring anthem "Afuera" was an unusual choice for a lead single — it features an instrumental guitar interlude that lasts for more than a minute —  but proved brilliant. Even Markovich, the guitarist who wrote the interlude, was dubious about its commercial potential. 

"I never could have imagined it would be a single," he said in 2022 on the podcast "Cuéntame Un Disco." "I even told the record company that they might want to do a more radio friendly version without it, but they left it and it worked." 

Today the song is popular among musicians on YouTube precisely because of its interlude. 

Second single "Aqui No Es Asi" was also a hit. Marcovich, again on the podcast, said he was writing melodies on the guitar when he found an unusual rhythm "between Caribbean and Andean." "It was a strange mix," he said. 

Hernández has been called the "poet laureate of Mexican rock," and has often weaved social themes and indigenous mysticism into the lyrics of his songs. In the propulsive "Aqui no es asi," Hernandez obliquely refers to two different places — one materialistic and out of touch with spirituality, and the other a land "where blood is sacrificed for love." The song has been interpreted as a criticism of Eurocentric values that have marginalized more indigenous ones. 

The album slows down considerably with the acoustic, melancholic hymn "Ayer me dijo un ave." Now one of the band’s signature songs, the song is about strength in the face of adversity. Its lyrics are heavy with surrealistic imagery: "Yesterday a bird told me while flying where there is no heat," Hernández sings. "That the long-suffering are not resurrected in dreams." 

Many of the other songs have become classics in Mexico and among Spanish-speakers in the U.S. Highlights include the full-throttle tropical-tinged "Aviéntame"; "Pero Nunca Me Caí," which features Nash on harmonica; and "Quisiera Ser Alcohol," a jazz-influenced lament with trumpet from Hey and a sumptuous fretless bass from guest Stuart Hamm.

Rafael Catana, an influential folk-rock musician in Mexico City who has hosted a music show on government-funded radio since 1997, says Caifanes' last album "arrived at a crucial moment in Mexican history" when the country was undergoing a massive social and economic transformation. Both sonically and in its production, El Nervio reflected the conflict between Mexico's interest in transnational capitalism and its underclass.  

In the early 1990s, elites had opened the country to a flood of foreign corporate investment with the North American Free Trade Agreement. On Jan. 1, 1994, an armed indigenous uprising against those policies by the Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional challenged the government unlike any other group had attempted in decades. (Security forces had warned against political dissidence when they massacred student protesters in Mexico City in 1968 and launched a dirty war to round up "subversives" and marginalize the counterculture, including rock bands).

While El Nervio doesn’t explicitly mention any of these historical points, it is clearly a product of the era, filled with evocations of Indigenous musical traditions despite being produced by a major corporate label. During the tour in support of the album, the band made it clear that they were on the side of Mexico’s most oppressed class, with footage of Indigenous villages and archeological sites shown during their concerts. Hernández would sometimes call on audiences to support Mexico’s native people. 

Backstage, the relationship between Marcovich and Hernández became impossible and contributed to the breakup of the band. The rupture between them would become a subject of headlines in the media. Though the exact details of their conflict remain vague, the band played their final show on Aug. 18, 1995, in San Luis Potosí. A legal dispute over the name Caifanes endured for years. 

By the time Caifanes broke up, rock en español was entering a new phase led by the indie-folkloric experimentation of Café Tacuba. Other musical trends also started emerging: the rap-rock of Molotov, the electro of Plastilina Mosh, the commercial explosion of Juanes' tropical pop, the Caribbean alternative rock of Aterciopelados.  

In the interim, Hernandez formed a new band with André. Their Jaguares channeled a more aggressive sound, and their 2008 album 45, took home a golden gramophone for Best Latin Rock or Alternative Album at the 2009 GRAMMYs. In 2011, the original members of Caifanes reunited to play Coachella.

But the truce between Hernández and Marcovich didn’t last, and the guitarist once again left the band. A reunited Caifanes, with original members Hernandez and André, are on tour in 2024 with fellow Mexico City rockers Café Tacuba. 

Mexican music journalist David Cortes, who has written several books on Latin American music, said the band was at their creative peak with El Nervio Del Volcán and had established a striking balance between traditional music and foreign sounds. Ultimately, though, the break-up of the band limited its influence over the years. 

"They wanted to go further," he says in Spanish. "And there are hints of where they might have gone."

They came out of their cage, and now they're doing just fine. 

In an era of stiff competition, from the White Stripes to the Strokes, the Killers could have gotten lost in the shuffle. But with 2004's Hot Fuss, the Brandon Flowers-led, Vegas-based rock band essentially emerged fully formed, with a debonaire mystique, a raided new wave record collection (think the Cure and Duran Duran), and a knack for sky-high hooks. They didn't just nail the songs, and charisma, on the first go — they created one of the most timeless albums of their generation. 

In the 20 years since, chances are "Mr. Brightside" has gotten maddeningly stuck in your head at least once. But that's just the tip of the iceberg: Hot Fuss is teeming with cryptic one-liners, sticky melodies and a specifically aughts sort of emotional abandon.

Today, the Killers are one of the biggest rock bands of the 21st century, with five GRAMMY nominations and more than 28 million records sold worldwide. Here are five aspects of Hot Fuss that helped them break into the stratosphere.  

It's The Result Of A Completely Scrapped First Attempt 

Sometimes, the first thought isn't the best thought. The Killers were full steam ahead on their debut album when Flowers hit a major snag: a little album called This Is It by the Strokes came out. 

"When we put it on in the car, that record just sounded so perfect," Flowers admitted to NME in 2012. "I got so depressed after that, we threw away everything, and the only song that made the cut and remained was 'Mr. Brightside.'" 

How would the Killers' legacy have changed without classics like "Somebody Told Me" and "Jenny Was a Friend of Mine"? We'll never know — but the band (and the world) is likely glad they gave Hot Fuss a second shot. 

Brandon Flowers Is A Superb Lyricist 

Did you know Hot Fuss has an extended murder narrative? Well, in two songs: "Midnight Show" and "Jenny Was a Friend of Mine." (The third act, "Leave the Bourbon on the Shelf," was relegated to their 2007 B-sides and rarities disc, Sawdust.) 

Outside of sprawling concepts, Flowers' sneaky prowess as a lyricist is all over Hot Fuss, from sticky alliteration ("Turning saints into the sea/ Swimming through sick lullabies") to masterful use of negative space. 

Exhibit A is "Smile Like You Mean It": "Someone is calling my name/ From the back of the restaurant/ And someone is playing a game/ In the house that I grew up in/ And someone will drive her around/ Down the same streets that I did." By erasing the specifics, and only providing a framework of memory, the picture is ever more elusive and intriguing. 

The Album Is Front-Loaded With Five Bangers 

Sure, some tracks on Hot Fuss, like "Change Your Mind" and "Believe Me Natalie," are relatively minor. 

But with absolute napalm across the first five tracks — "Jenny Was a Friend of Mine," "Mr. Brightside," "Smile Like You Mean It," "Somebody Told Me," "All These Things That I've Done" — it's actually kind of a relief to get a sleeper album track, that reveals its qualities slower. 

No matter your take on the rest of Hot Fuss, or their discography, the fact remains undeniable: they came in swinging. 

They Kept The Demos Intact For Raw Impact 

The Killers and the Boss have crossed paths a time or two — and they made a Springsteenian move when they used demos as the final tracks. It worked, imbuing Hot Fuss with a certain spontaneity and energy. 

And because these Hot Fuss tracks were meant to comprise a demo, "We never thought [these songs] would be on a record." drummer Ronnie Vannucci Jr. later admitted. Talk about a turn of events: what could have been a collection of scratch tracks would help define a generation. 

"Mr. Brightside" Took On A Life Of Its Own 

"Mr. Brightside" has undeniably become the Killers' signature song — a staple not only at their concerts, but at bars and karaoke joints around the world. And once social media came along, it inspired a cornucopia of memes: even snippets of lyrics, like "Comin' out of my cage" and "It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?" have become miniature cultural forces. 

Aside from Flowers' almost unwaveringly single-note verse melody, the song's odd structure — the second verse is the same as the first — has also been ripe for humor: one favorite meme takes you into the fictional writer's room when that decision was made. 

Whether for rock 'n' roll transcendence, or just a nostalgic laugh, revisit Hot Fuss as it turns 20 — and smile like you mean it. 

Is This It At 20: How The Strokes Redefined Rock 

The Britpop movement first gathered pace in 1993 — its pure optimism, laddish mentality, and colorful Union Jack aesthetic an attractive proposition for those who couldn't relate to the alienation and angst that defined grunge. Drawing from the classic guitar music of the 1960s, it was also steeped in nostalgia, and, perhaps more notably, a fervent belief that anything the Americans could do, the Brits could do better.

Unsurprisingly, the deeply patriotic scene didn't travel too well: only a handful of acts, most notably Oasis and Blur, made any notable impact across the Atlantic during its four-year golden period. On home turf, however, Britpop defined the zeitgeist, turning the London town of Camden into the nation's cultural hub, sweeping up everyone from future Prime Minister Tony Blair to sheep-preserving artist Damien Hirst, and sparking a chart battle so intense it made the BBC's Six O'Clock News.

And it continues to resonate. Oasis' Liam Gallagher and Stone Roses' John Squire recently topped the UK album chart with their collaborative self-titled LP. The middle episodes of Netflix's must-watch romantic drama One Day is heavily soundtracked by the scene's finest. And Dua Lipa recently cited its two biggest bands — as well as Britpop-adjacent acts Radiohead, Massive Attack, and Primal Scream — as a key influence on her new album Radical Optimism.

With the catalyst for Britpop's domination, Blur's Parklife, recently celebrating its 30th anniversary, what better time to look back at its finest contributions. Ignoring any acts that sat on the outskirts (like Manic Street Preachers or Saint Etienne), or who broke through post-1997 (see Catatonia, Embrace), and sticking to just one track per artist, here's a look at 10 songs that embodied the term Cool Britannia.

Oasis — "Live Forever"

How do you choose from the era's two biggest blockbusters, 1994's record-breaking Definitely Maybe and 1995's (What's The Story) Morning Glory? "Wonderwall" is by far Oasis most recognizable hit, "Cigarettes and Alcohol" summed up the Mancunians' hard-partying ethos in five glorious rock and roll minutes, and "Don't Look Back in Anger" remains the scene's greatest Beatles pastiche. And then there's game-changing single "Supersonic," orchestral sing-along "Whatever," and the truly epic "Champagne Supernova."

But it's the aptly titled "Live Forever," the third single from the Gallagher brothers' near-flawless debut, which has weathered the best. Showcasing the elongated delivery that would become his forte, Liam delivers both an all-time great vocal and a positive meditation that essentially serves as a Britpop manifesto. And unlike on the more bloated Oasis albums to come, Noel's wall of guitar sounds here is anthemic, evocative and downright thrilling.

Blur — "Girls and Boys"

The audience at this year's Coachella might not be particularly familiar with Blur's "Girls and Boys," much to frontman Damon Albarn's annoyance (it did only peak at No.59 on the Hot 100 30 years previously, to be fair). But anyone old enough to remember the spring of 1994 across the pond will know every word.

Ironically, one of the defining Britpop anthems has Mediterranean roots. It was inspired by the Brits-abroad debauchery that the scene's ultimate power couple, Albarn and Elastica frontwoman Justine Frischmann, witnessed during a vacation in Spain. And with its self-described "disco drums, nasty guitars, and Duran Duran bass," Parklife's gender-fluid, multilingual ("You get nasty blisters/ Du bist sehr schön"), and insanely infectious lead single was tailor-made to soundtrack such dance floor hedonism.

Pulp — "Common People"

Pulp had been plugging away on the fringes of the UK's indie scene since the late 1970s, but had to wait until the Britpop explosion to progress beyond cult concern. After making their long-awaited breakthrough with 1994's His N Hers, the Sheffield outfit then joined the big league with Mercury Prize-winning 1995 follow-up Different Class and an instant classic lead single that established eccentric frontman Jarvis Cocker as the scene's ultimate satirist.

As referenced by Rosamund Pike's prime suspect in Saltburn, "Common People" was inspired by a real-life barroom encounter with a privileged art student with ambitions of roughing it with the lower class simply for fun. Cocker initially indulges the unnamed woman in the hope of some bedroom action. But he eventually admonishes her lust for social voyeurism over an exhilarating flurry of guitars, violins and erm stylophones. A true one-off.

Supergrass — "Alright"

Although the impressive sideburns suggested otherwise, Supergrass — aka frontman Gaz Coombes, bassist Mick Quinn, and drummer Danny Goffey — were only on the cusp of adulthood when they released their debut album, 1995's I Should Coco. And saving the best until the last, its fifth single brilliantly encapsulated their youthful exuberance.

Just ask Steven Spielberg. After seeing the video for "Alright," where the trio get up to various japes while traveling across North Wales on a king size bed, the director propositioned the band with a The Monkees-esque TV show, an offer politely declined. The song itself, which did enjoy a taste of Hollywood as part of the Clueless soundtrack, is similarly mischievous, combining jaunty piano riffs and summery surf guitars with joyous tales of teenage kicks ("Got some cash, bought some wheels/ Took it out 'cross the fields/ Lost control, hit a wall/ But we're alright").

Suede — "Trash"

The lure of the Britpop world was so impossible to resist that even Suede, a band renowned for their sexual ambiguity, animalistic art rock, and odes to the seedier side of life, eventually jumped on board. Indeed, while their self-titled debut and equally nihilistic follow-up Dog Man Star had seemed designed for wallowing in student bedsits, third album Coming Up was a far more celebratory affair primed for the indie disco.

The unlikely blockbuster, recorded in the wake of guitarist Bernard Butler's departure in 1994, spawned five consecutive UK Top 10 hits, the most immediate of which was lead single "Trash." An outsider anthem written about the band itself ("Oh maybe, maybe it's the clothes we wear/ The tasteless bracelets and the dye in our hair/ Maybe it's our kookiness"), the David Bowie-esque glam rocker instantly made you want to become an honorary member of Brett Anderson's gang.

The Bluetones — "Slight Return"

As with Suede and Pulp, London-four piece The Bluetones didn't automatically fit into the Britpop landscape. Mark Morriss was at the more unassuming end of the frontman spectrum, his tender, softly-sung voice a far cry from the more boorish delivery of Gallagher, Albarn, et al. And their sound owed just as much to the jangly guitar pop of Teenage Fanclub and melodic songcraft of Squeeze as the Fab Four.

But their debut album, 1996's Expecting to Fly — which knocked (What's The Story) Morning Glory? off the UK top spot — proved that the Cool Britannia era wasn't entirely averse to something a little more sensitive. Flagship single "Slight Return" (very nearly a British chart-topper, too), was undeniably its piece-de-resistance, its intimate verses and propulsive, life-affirming chorus neatly encapsulating their everyman charm.

Babybird — "You're Gorgeous"

Perhaps Britpop's most misunderstood classic, Babybird's "You're Gorgeous" isn't a declaration of undying love tailor made for a first dance. As countless newlyweds may be horrified to learn, it's the tale of a creepy photographer sweet-talking his models into suggestive poses ("You took an instamatic camera/ And pulled my sleeves around my heart") with the false promise of worldwide fame.

Also featured in Saltburn (on this occasion, musically), the feminist statement briefly turned Stephen Jones' one-man-band into a major chart force — "Don't Look Back in Anger" was the only Britpop song to sell more in 1996. Although it proved to be something of a one-hit wonder, its subversive themes and bittersweet melodies — reminiscent of Echo and Bunnymen at their commercial peak — have aged far more gracefully than most of Britpop's more straightforward serenades.

Elastica — "Connection"

There was a brief moment in 1995 when Justine Frischmann looked as though she would equal, or even eclipse, the success of her then-boyfriend Damon Albarn. Elastica's self-titled debut album reached No. 1 in the UK, becoming the second fastest-selling ever in the process. And it reached a creditable No.66 on the Billboard 200, a chart which had completely eluded Blur.

Even so, thanks to a combination of crippling drug addiction, constant lineup changes, and lost momentum, Elastica's reign proved to be short-lived. Still, they'll always have one of the scene's greatest singles runs, encompassing "Stutter," "Line-Up," "No More Heroes," and their biggest US hit, "Connection." The latter also boasts the scene's greatest intro, a ferocious ball of energy which includes squalling synths, guttural grunts, and a primitive guitar riff brazenly borrowed from Wire's "Three Girl Rhumba." Britpop never sounded more explosive.

Ocean Colour Scene — "The Day We Caught the Train"

Occupying the same unapologetically retro space as Cast, The Boo Radleys, and the Godfather of Britpop Paul Weller, Ocean Colour Scene were never one of the scene's most fashionable bands. But breakthrough album Moseley Shoals' mix of '60s rock, mod, and Northern Soul spawned two undeniable classics.

Firstly, there was "The Riverboat Song," a triumphant pastiche of Led Zeppelin's "Four Sticks" that became the walk-on music for Chris Evans' zeitgeist-defining TV show TFI Friday. And then the Birmingham four-piece delivered the even more majestic "The Day We Caught the Train," a nostalgic ode to escapism ("You and I should ride the coast/ And wind up in our favorite coats just miles away") complete with a carefree sun-soaked video that foreshadowed the good vibes of Summer '96. Who cares about being cool anyway?

The Verve — "Bitter Sweet Symphony"

The general consensus is that Britpop died the day Oasis released their self-indulgent third album Be Here Now in August 1997. Released just two months beforehand, The Verve's crowning glory, therefore, was something of a last hurrah, a lush orchestral affair that briefly transformed a bunch of unsung psychedelic rockers into Britain's biggest band.

"Bitter Sweet Symphony" was famously built on a sample of Andrew Loog Oldham's version of The Rolling Stones' "The Last Time"; the band were forced to relinquish all royalties as a result. But there's more to the urban hymn than those sweeping strings — its emphatic beats, for one thing, Richard Ashcroft's vocal swagger for another. Let's not forget the iconic Hoxton Street video where Ashcroft displayed a staggering unawareness of personal space. The second highest-charting Britpop track Stateside (No. 12 on the Hot 100) and only the second to receive a GRAMMY nod, too, "Bittersweet Symphony" was  a majestic Britpop send-off.

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