About
The Brits is the tenth track on Under the Radar Vol. 1, written by Robbie Williams and Guy Chambers and produced by Chambers with Richard Flack. The song was inspired by Williams’ experience attending the 2013 BRIT Awards, where he found the event lacking in the irreverence and unpredictability that had once defined it. The track channels that frustration into a witty and self-aware rap, combining social commentary with the mischievous humour that recalls his Rudebox era.
Williams later explained that he wrote the lyrics the day after the ceremony, describing the evening as “sterile” and bemoaning the loss of the rebellious energy that had made the awards notorious in the 1990s. He and Chambers set his observations to a funky, guitar-led beat, incorporating playful nods to hip hop culture and to Williams’ own legacy in British pop. The song also references figures such as Liam Gallagher and Jarvis Cocker, and even quotes the late rapper The Notorious B.I.G., weaving together satire, nostalgia and bravado.
Despite its critique, the track remains affectionate toward the British music scene, reflecting Williams’ complex relationship with fame and the institutions that celebrate it. Its mix of swagger and honesty makes it one of the most distinctive pieces on the album.
“The Brits was written the day after being at the Brits in 2013. It was just a sterile evening, and I know it’s not wise to bite the hand that has been so generous to me in the past, but I always remember the Brits being rock and roll.”Robbie Williams
The Brits stands as both a critique and a love letter to the industry that shaped Williams’ career, delivered with the sharp wit and irreverence that have long defined his songwriting.
Lyrics
Yet again it's an honour to be nominated
Blah dee blah dee blah
Blah dee blah dee blah
Blah dee blah dee blah
Blah dee blah dee blah
Well that Brits night was so fucking boring
Past the days of yes, yes, Charlene
Coke in the bogs till seven in the morning
Look up the wrong way and we end up brawling
When I had a bit of beef with you know who
And I fucked a few female stars or two
Nearly everything I said I'd end up getting screwed
Spitting at the paps, looking rude in the news
Oh yes, you're still rocking with the best
Second person in my year to have touched a breast
I'm nearly forty now and I'm still impressed
Here's the midlife crisis I guess
Oh, I recall taking in the wonder of it all
I'm still looking for an answer through the looking glass
Still not concentrating at the back of the class
No thanks, Sir, this one's for you
It's like a VD clinic: only pricks are in it
So fucking dull and professional and timid
To be frank, Sir, I prefer this showbiz chancer
I still want to get laid by you, right
Now I know I've got fat, but make no mistake
Every million that I make they bake me a cake
So I've got plenty, a hundred and twenty
Wear clothes of tweed like Amlanda Gentry
I still want to get you naked
I'll see you in the summer, so glad you could make it
I'll be that mega white thing, fast as lightning
And Knebworth shape but twice as frightening
If they can't be bothered then I promise you this
If they won't entertain you then I'll do my fucking best
Looking for an answer through the looking grass
Still not concentrating at the back of the class
No thanks, Sir, this one's for you
It's like a VD clinic: only pricks are in it
So fucking corporate and professional and timid
To be frank, Sir, I prefer this showbiz chancer
I still want to get laid by you
Would you let me lay you down right here?
Would you let me live?
Still looking for an answer through the looking glass
Still not concentrating at the back of the class
No thanks, Sir, this one's for you
It's like a VD clinic: only pricks are in it
So fucking dull and professional and timid
To be frank, Sir, I prefer this showbiz chancer
I'm still looking for an answer through the looking glass
Still not concentrating at the back of the class
No thanks, Sir, this one's for you
Its like a VD clinic: only pricks are in it
So fucking corporate and professional and timid
To be frank, Sir, I prefer this showbiz chancer
Yet again it's an honour to be nominated
Blah dee blah dee blah
Blah dee blah dee blah
Blah dee blah dee blah
Blah dee blah dee blah
Credits
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Vocalist
Robbie Williams -
Songwriter
Robbie Williams, Guy Chambers