Thirty-five years into a career that has been nothing short of phenomenal and Robbie Williams is just as ambitious, audacious, and attuned to his personal sensitivities as he ever was. BRITPOP, the record-breaking pop icon’s 13th studio album arrived with him on the verge of blowing through another milestone—one that would place him ahead of The Beatles as the artist with the most chart-topping albums in the UK. Slated as the record he would have wanted to make at the dawn of his solo career in 1995, following his contentious departure from Take That (the boy band that propelled Williams to fame), BRITPOP is a raucous, guitar-heavy affair, both observational and introspective in equal parts. Largely co-written with touring band members Karl Brazil and Owen Parker, the assured musical chemistry earned through years of stadium-sized performances lends a note of authenticity to Williams’ retrospective take on the cultural era which lends the album its name. Tracks such as jangly love song “Pretty Face” and “Spies,” with its crashing drum fills and recklessly defiant chorus, make it easy to imagine Williams as a credible leader of a band, while co-signs from Supergrass singer/guitarist Gaz Coombes—credited on swaggering stomper “Cocky”—and a squealing solo from Black Sabbath guitarist Tony Iommi, which cuts in midway through album opener “Rocket,” seal the deal. Elsewhere, pulsating synth cut “Morrissey” reunites Williams with former Take That bandmate Gary Barlow, painting a lonely, misunderstood portrait of the titular singer-songwriter and even sharper commentary is showcased on the snappy, sardonic “Bite Your Tongue” or “Human,” a heartfelt collaboration with sibling duo Jesse & Joy that provides one of the record’s rare, slow-paced moments. Ironically though, it is “All My Life,” co-written by Americans Freddy Wexler (Laufey, Justin Bieber) and folk singer Elliah Heifetz, that manages to encapsulate both the spirit of Britpop and the spirit of Robbie Williams most vividly, packaging his ego, addictions, insecurities, and moth-like attraction to the spotlight into an exuberant, unapologetic anthem that resonates beyond the anomalous singularity of Williams’ life experience. Three-and-a-half decades into a career that would have seemed nothing short of impossible in the wilderness years post-boy-band superstardom, Williams has made peace with the fact that he can’t change the past—but he can remake it in his own image.