Last Saturday, I managed to get tickets to see the Spice Girls and I am very excited. I first saw the Spice Girls in 1998 at Sheffield’s Don Valley stadium, sadly minus Geri who had left at that point, then again in 2008 for their reunion show in London. Now I am sticking to my rough 10-year schedule and seeing them for a third time; this time minus Victoria who is, understandably, keeping herself and her sophisticated and successful fashion line at a healthy distance from the gaudy, nostalgic pop-fest that encompasses all things Spice. I will miss her because although I related more to Sporty, Baby and Scary when I was younger, I always appreciated the presence of the scowling chic one in the little Gucci dress. I will also always reject the idea that she didn’t contribute much by way of vocal prowess. With perhaps the exception of Mel C, none of the Spice Girls meet truly exceptional heights of singing capability, and that’s OK because that was never the point.
So here I am, twenty years on from my first encounter with the Spice Girls, which is both horrifying and wonderful. The first time I encountered the Spice Girls was watching the iconic video for ‘Wannabe’ on Top of the Pops. After that, my life was Spice mad: I had the CDs, Spice Girls birthday cakes, Spice Girls dolls, Spice Girls posters and my long-suffering dad took me to see Spice World: The Movie. I was utterly convinced that they could see me at the end (fans of the film will know what I’m talking about) and I had absolutely no time for my dad’s protestations that they were ‘looking down a camera’. They were partially responsible for mine and my school friends’ ambitions of being world-famous popstars and I was a keen adherent to the crop top craze á la Sporty Spice: my favourite because she could sing the best, also supported Liverpool Football Club and looked the most like me. I think this was largely their (commercial) magic: there was a Spice Girl we could all relate to or identify with in some way or other.
What I was not so aware of when I was younger was just how commercial and marketised The Spice Girls were. I remember them being everywhere, to my delight at the time: they were all over Pepsi, Walkers Crisps, Polaroid cameras, Asda and Cadbury products and even fronted a range of temporary tattoos amongst their many other marketing campaigns. In addition, I can completely see now why people found this manufactured, product placement band next-level irritating. Similar consumerist endorsements from today’s popstars and musicians annoy me no-end: yet with their chemistry, their bubbly advocacy of ‘Girl Power’, the way they used to invade space and trample over their interviewers, their undeniably catchy songs and my young and unfiltered eyes, the Spice Girls were absolutely loveable. Indeed, they are still loveable in a nostalgic, escapist, harmless pop way. Despite my slight ambivalence, I have no qualms about re-visiting some of my favourite childhood pop songs for a few hours in Wembley next June, some of which include:
Who Do You Think You Are – Pumped up party tune posing a deeply existential question as a statement. Favourite lyric: ‘The race is on to get out of the bottom / The top is high so your roots are forgotten’.
Denying – 90s faux-RnB tune demanding acceptance from friend/lover/family member. Favourite lyric: ‘You think you’re so cool / Hey big man you’re old school’
Naked – Seductive ballad-esque situation that has matured better than some of their other output: emphasis on the female gaze is particularly progressive. Favourite lyric: ‘Undress you with her eyes, uncover the truth from the lies / Strip you down, no need to care, lights are low exposed and bare’.
Step To Me – Sassy song demanding relationship compliance that came as a Pepsi CD supplement. Favourite lyric: ‘Come on a step to me / Shame the devil, tell the truth / I can tell you don’t know what to do’.
Too Much – More 90s faux-RnB ballad gold dust, tapping into my early-twenties interest in the concept of ‘nothing’ and ‘nothingness’. Favourite lyric: ‘Too much of something is bad enough / But something’s coming over me to make me wonder / Too much of nothing is just as tough / I need to know the way to feel to keep me satisfied’.