by LORRAINE CARPENTER

Okay, so you’re really proud of your black/blonde mullet and your collarless blouse and your crazy-cheap, synthesized dance music. Are those goomies? Dude. The neo-’80s are fizzling like Michael Jackson’s head on fire. The ’90s revival is on! Bush, Sadaam, Guns N’ Roses riots, impending recession… can you feel it? Of course.

Affecting the ’90s through clothes and music is essential. Your buddies in spandex will look like assholes next to your post-modern mish-mash chic, and the opposite sex will certainly flock to you over your Flock of Seagulls friends. But now you have a problem: U.S. or U.K.? Plaid or polyester? Stubble or eyeliner? Tattered babydolls or urban casual? You can’t go both ways, so, with help from the Mirror, let’s let the music decide.

This is more than merely a compilation contest, mightier than a massive reissue rumble. For the first time, we’ve pitted greatest hits against greatest hits in a super-colossal, megaticious, internationalistic battle of the bands, and its outcome will change your life for the next five, six minutes. So grab yourself a beverage and let’s get ready to RUMBLE!

Round one

Manic Street Preachers Forever Delayed (Epic/Sony)
vs. Nirvana self-titled (DGC/Universal)

We’re off to a raucous start with Seattle street fighters Nirvana against working-class Welshmen the Manic Street Preachers. These middleweights burst onto their respective scenes at the beginning of the ’90s, Nirvana’s gloomy, trudging punk beating corporate rock into its grave, and the Manics’ agit-rock glam-slam giving V fingers to arena excess. Both bands had occasion to dress in sloppy drag, and both had self-destructive, substance-abusing members but, with the Manics, it was their rhythm-guitarist/lyricist who couldn’t take the pressure, maaaan. The Manics were able to continue after Richey Edwards went MIA in ’94 (his body was never found), but Nirvana suffered their fatal blow a few months later.

Does size matter? Richey’s mid-round disqualification kinda evens the head count, but the Manics released twice as many proper albums as Nirvana in their decade-plus career. However, with more product comes more potential for mediocrity, and the Manics had their moments.

The special edition of the Manics’ greatest comes with a bonus disc of remixes, bringing the song total to 33, including three recent rarities. Nirvana’s disc offers only 14 tracks and one “new” song—we can thank Courtney Love for holding back the box set ’til 2004.

And imagine ’94-era Cobain, with all his stomach ailments and track marks, fighting ’94-era James Dean Bradfield, the Manics’ relatively muscle-bound singer (before he went puffy). There’s no contest.

However, by sheer commercial, influential and awe-of-the-dead force, the winner of this battle is clearly Nirvana, overlords of grunge, spawners of a world of pap—from Silverchair to Bush to the Vines to, arguably, Hole—as well as well as beloved spin-off act the Foo Fighters. The USA takes it.

Round two

Pulp Hits (Island/Universal)
vs. The Smashing Pumpkins Earphoria (Virgin)

Dark, thick introspective rock challenges classy, clever perv-pop in this meeting of flamboyant, lanky lightweights. It’s the Pumpkins’ Billy Corgan versus Pulp’s Jarvis Cocker, Chicago vs. Sheffield, precious geeks USA vs. colourful common people.

Just in time for the holidays, Pulp cap their career with the obligatory singles-plus-new-song package. Forget about their sketchy ’80s records (most have), this is straight greats from ’92 to the present, all their anecdotal, sex-obsessed, polyester pop anthems “in a field in Hampshire, alright.”

The Smashing Pumpkins have been there and done their hits collection. This is a companion, a live album with tracks drawn from early tours, mainly ’92 to ’94, before Corgan’s Uncle Fester phase. His trademark little-boy-coo-to-hissing-hyena weaves its angst-cradling magic while the formulaic quiet-to-loud thing too often bursts out into dizzy guitar wanks. But, to its credit, the disc is wonderfully free of latter-day nastiness.

However, if what I choose is my choice, then I pick Pulp as the victors in this battle for their superior holiday release, superior ’90s output in general, superior wit, superior style and superior ability to flash their ass at Michael Jackson (remember Cocker’s stage invasion during Jacko’s twisted Brit Awards performance in ’96?). Score one for the U.K.

Round three

Pavement Slanted & Enchanted (Matador)
vs. Ride OX4: The Best of Ride (Ignition)

A shambolic showdown if there ever was one, round three sees California’s lords of the lo-fi fighting Oxford’s premier guitar-surround popsmiths. Due to shaggy hair and excessive footwear examination, this will be a blind battle, a sound-off instead of a face-off, a disc-on-disc rumble-a-rama.

Both bands formed in the late ’80s and disintegrated in the mid- to late-’90s, but Pavement have two years and one album over Ride. Pavement’s latest isn’t a greatest collection, but a two-CD, remastered re-issue of their classic debut album. The “Luxe and Reduxe” edition features outtakes, Peel Sessions, the Watery EP, and an entire live show.

Ride borrowed My Bloody Valentine’s wall of sound and turned it on its dreamy head, tending towards pop melody rather than free-range noise. There’s no question that their Best Of is essential but, as with Nirvana, Pavement’s flagship role in the indie rock movement and their extensive influence puts them ahead. Their sunny smiles also help, as does the stunning amount of booty on this re-issue (fans note: there’s a new DVD too).

Hurray for the USA!

Round four

Belly Sweet Ride: The Best of Belly (Rhino/Warner)
vs. Catatonia Greatest Hits (Warner)

This is the final round, the deciding round, the round the boys have been waiting for. It’s lady-on-lady, tree-feeder on karaoke queen, Boston on Wales, further evidence that blondes have more fun, if only on drugs.

Catatonia’s early material is virtually unknown in North America, but their lifespan is actually double that of Belly. Cerys Matthews’ pack-a-day kitten vocals, along with her hot-mama looks and abundant public partying, made Catatonia’s melodic, rockin’ Britpop a hit with the British press, but their albums were uneven, their final disc was universally blasted and Matthews’ extended stay in rehab closed the door on Catatonia. Their greatest, however, still sound pretty great.

Tanya Donelly got her feet wet, pre-Belly, as a member of the Throwing Muses (with half-sis Kristen Hersh) as well as the Breeders, and released two half-decent solo albums following her band’s demise. Belly’s two mid-’90s releases, however, were exceptional, full of twisted, fanciful tunes and pure pop anthems, the best of which are collected on this disc, and supplemented with a pack of rarities.

While it’s obvious that Cerys could take Tanya (with or without the coke), Belly/L7 bassist Gail Greenwood would more than even the score. And, once again, for experience, perseverance and consistent quality, it’s the USA all the way.

In the end, with their excellent set of comps this year, the powerful influence of their ’90s rock bands and their careful attention to packaging, America takes the title. Way to win a war!