Although tunes such as “Hard”, “Rude Boy” and “What’s My Name?” seemed more quintessential at the turn of the 2010s as slices of Millennial recession-core, “Cheers (Drink To That)” stands the test of time as the most explicitly zeitgeist-bottling. This 21st century saloon song harkens back to a time when pop seemed pretty simple as an idea; a production and writing team in its bag and a couple of good ideas was enough for chart superstardom, in this case a loping Avril Lavigne sample, sugary-sweet pop-rock architecture, an irresistible chorus call-to-arms and verse lyricism simplistic but impactful enough to power a generation of social media inspo-chatter.
In my first year at university in 2007, the first under raised tuition fees in the UK, the talk was that our intake had set record bar takings. I thought little of it at first, but it seemed demonstrably true in the following years. This proved to be but a precursor. By the end of the decade, as supposedly developed economies boomeranged around in the wake of society-destroying negligence and practically suicidal greed, Millennials would come to be defined by the pursuit of escapism in the very jaws of capitalist nihilism. This is how tracks like “Cheers” and “Party Rock Anthem” became generational canticles, recognising that pop music could be just as adept as dance music, increasingly while incorporating it, at realising the utopian potential of nightclubs and dancefloors, and that while it wasn’t exactly the Second Summer of Love, most of the best nights and moments of your life occur while sozzled.
Even the lyric “don’t let the bastards get you down” inadvertently pre-empts “The Handmaid’s Tale” as a cultural phenomenon and proposes a tray of shots as the most direct solution to fascism. Unfortunately, the focus on alcohol as an anaesthetic dates the track fairly badly in the contemporary climate, as does the idea that a pleasure as effortless as putting on a pair of Ray-Bans could make you feel “hella cool”. Was even Rihanna, the dominant and unimpeachable princess of international pop, cringe? If so, she’s very much one of our own. Even at this point she was, unthinkably, only a handful of years away from what seems to be her final album. Talk about jaded. All the same, none of it changes how damn good “Cheers” feels on every single intake, just like that first ice-cold sip always does, from its fade-out for a drunken group vocal to its tropically feverish groove.
In practical terms, the memories are mixed, but no less glorious for it. Drainpipes, bad Nextwear and downing Jägerbombs until you slur heavily were the order of the day. In the modern era of vape pens, H2O at the club, cargo pants and commentary on how Millennials are “highkey functional alcoholics”, we’re no longer in Kansas. The worst part may be that Gen Z continue to party mostly to our songs, and I say that not to pen a the-kids-aren’t-alright piece, but because I hate seeing a cohort robbed of their cultural vitality. As time winds on, it seems clear that the chasm between an adult life promised and one lived is the driving factor, and one younger people mercifully aren’t burdened with. Things seem easier to see through, when your gestational touchstones were Michael Jordan, Jim Carrey and The End of History rather than TikTok and techno-feudalism. If that was the delta you’d experienced, you’d toast to the freakin’ weekend too.
Roads To The North 