Swervedriver. Formed in Oxford in 1989 by frontman Adam Franklin, guitarist Jimmy Hartridge, bassist Adi Vines, and drummer Graham Bonnar, Swervedriver rose with the wave of shoegaze that took over England in the late eighties. But what set them apart was the heavier approach of their 1991 debut LP “Raise” and its acclaimed 1993 follow-up “Mezcal Head”, shaped largely by pre-grunge bands from the States like Dinosaur Jr. and Hüsker Dü.
Swervedriver is celebrating thirty-five years of “Raise” this month with an expanded, remastered reissue that includes a second LP of B-sides and previously unreleased rarities collected by the band. To mark the occasion, we’re looking back at Swervedriver’s ten best songs.
Swervedriver’s seminal debut LP “Raise” turned 35 this week (30th September 2026 to be precise) so the band are releasing an expanded, double vinyl 35th Anniversary Edition Friday 2nd October through the CMG label. The original album has been remastered with the second disc featuring the B-sides from their first three EPs (“Son of Mustang Ford”, “Rave Down”, and “Sandblasted” plus two tracks originally released on a limited edition seven-inch “Surf Twang” and “Deep Twang” that came out with the first edition of “Raise”
They’re also putting out a collection of demo recordings from that same period entitled “Raise: Demos”, which is set for release on Friday 23rd October via Outer Battery Records. “Raise: Demos” is a unique collection of recordings that documents how the songs took shape that eventually became the band’s much-lauded debut. Released on CD and silver vinyl as well as limited edition runs of 300 cassettes and 400 red vinyls, “Raise: Demos” serves as a fascinating companion piece to the album itself.
The current line-up of the band features founder members Adam Franklin (vocals, guitars) and Jimmy Hartridge (guitars) plus Mick Quinn (bass) and Mikey Jones (drums), and last year saw them release their first new music since 2019 in the shape of four-track EP “The World’s Fair”
Both releases come with sleeve notes from original bass player Adi Vines,
“How Does It Feel to Look Like Candy?” (Ejector Seat Reservation, 1995)
With their third album “Ejector Seat Reservation”, Swervedriver sweetened things up. Their sound veered closer towards the Britpop of their countrymen, their lyrics got more psychedelic, and their outlooks became rosier. But the jangly “How Does It Feel to Look Like Candy?” is Swervedriver at their most saccharine, with Franklin fawning over an elusive love interest who isn’t just the cat’s pajamas, but all of the “cat’s nine lives.” Sometimes the sugar crash is worth it.
“Feel So Real” (Raise, 1991)
Getting lost in the uncanny valley of dreams might be some of the most well-worn lyrical territory for nineties shoegaze bands. Call “Feel So Real” cliché if you like—“When it seems so real / I can hardly believe that it’s true” isn’t particularly groundbreaking, after all—but do we ever stop surprising ourselves with the fantasies and nightmares we create? Complete with a piercing synth riff and blistering drum fills, “Feel So Real” echoes twilight’s disorientation.
“Harry & Maggie (Dragging It Under)” (Mezcal Head, 1993)
Like many great shoegaze bands of their era, Swervedriver’s lyrics are rarely direct or transparent. But Franklin mines real life for inspiration on “Harry & Maggie (Dragging It Under),” a pedal-heavy “Mezcal Head” highlight he wrote about a friend who made his living as a stonemason and, apparently, once worked on the Houses of Parliament. “He carved out ‘Maggie Sucks’ on the backs of every one,” Franklin sings, an if you know, you know nod to an imminent political revolution.
“Juggernaut Rides” (Son of Mustang Ford EP, 1990)
Beneath all its addictive shredding and pop-forward melodies, “Juggernaut Rides”—a cut from Swervedriver’s debut EP that never made it onto a proper studio album—is an anthem of self-destruction. “Did you ever feel so removed / So that you couldn’t move?” Franklin asks, presumably to a partner he’s reluctant to get too close to. “Juggernaut Rides” feels frenzied and tightly wound, almost as if it, too, could wreck anything in its path.
“Sandblasted” (Sandblasted EP, 1991)
Franklin continues the ambivalent narrative of “Feel So Real” on “Raise’s” very next track. “How does it feel to feel / You know it’s for real?” he asks on the next track, “Sandblasted,” which kicks things off with a languid, minute-long instrumental intro before combusting into a sludgy anthem. Franklin explains that the song is “all about being out of it,” searching for meaning and lucidity on a stroll down the coastline.
“Girl on a Motorbike” (Mezcal Head, 1993)
A mid-tempo groover on the comparatively mellow side of the Swervedriver spectrum, “Girl on a Motorbike” opens with grisly imagery: “It fucks with your head / When you’re tryin’ to sleep at night / With a gun across your bed.” Inspired by the rising threat of fascism following the fall of the Soviet Union in 1990, the song laments the oblivious submission of the general public. The “girl on a motorbike” Franklin’s narrator sees might not be a love interest in the traditional sense, but a reassuring sign that some are willing to move against the current.
“Son of Mustang Ford” (Son of Mustang Ford EP, 1990)
It’s easy to forget that Swervedriver aren’t from the United States. They set that precedent with their debut single “Son of Mustang Ford,” a song influenced by American literary hero Hunter S. Thompson and the automotive plant Franklin used to walk past on his way to school growing up in Oxford. Here, a trusty pony car becomes God, promising unbridled autonomy to those willing to worship it. “I got clean out of control,” Franklin sings, speeding towards self-indulgence.
“Rave Down” (Rave Down EP, 1991)
For all the Americana imagery present throughout Swervedriver’s discography, “Rave Down” offers a less romantic perspective about the restlessness that emerges when you’re stuck in a dead-end town. Over the steady chug of headbang-worthy guitars, Franklin sings about characters like the uproarious kids on the street and the retired cop who can’t seem to shake off his old habits: “He blasts flies with his gun because swatting’s no fun / Your town ain’t hypin’ up no more.” But in all its observational melancholy, there’s a hopeful air of something greater on “Rave Down”—the awareness that life needn’t feel so lifeless.
“Never Lose That Feeling/Never Learn” (Never Lose That Feeling EP, 1992)
After the moderate success of “Raise” made Swervedriver more visible, the band crossed paths with Alan Moulder, who’d already made a name for himself engineering dreampop and shoegaze classics like Loveless, Ride’s Nowhere, and The Jesus and Mary Chain’s Automatic. Swervedriver, intent on making their next record bigger and bolder, enlisted Moulder as their new producer. His prowess is most salient on “Never Lose That Feeling/Never Learn,” a gorgeous twelve-minute two-parter that lets the wall of guitars rage on without ever getting too muddled. “Never Lose That Feeling” is shoegaze at its liveliest, while “Never Learn” gives way to a hypnotic, free-jazz-inspired sprawl.
“Duel” (Mezcal Head, 1993)
By the time they unleashed “Mezcal Head’s” lead single, Swervedriver had already shown many of their greatest strengths: grungy guitar tones floating in a dreamy ambiance, extended outros, and amped-up choruses. But no one song captures all those specialties better than “Duel,” which seamlessly flits between metallic chords and breezy refrains before descending into a winding, wordless coda that lasts two minutes. The music is the main focus, but you can’t miss Franklin’s mantra: “I’m goin’ down, down to the market place / Goin’ to learn to give.” It’s probably not a coincidence that Swervedriver’s best song is also their most hopeful.
