At a time when grunge ruled the other side of the planet — all slouch, sludge and authenticity myths — the UK answered back with something tighter, smarter and far more ironic.
One of the sharpest snapshots of that moment is ‘Mall Monarchy‘ by Compulsion: a song that sounds like fluorescent lighting humming above your head while consumer culture quietly eats your soul.
‘Mall Monarchy’ isn’t about shopping centres as much as power dressed up as banality. Compulsion take the most mundane symbol of late-capitalist Britain — the mall — and turn it into a kingdom of false gods, empty rituals and manufactured desire. This is punk that thinks, sneers and observes rather than simply explodes.
Musically, the track locks into that classic Compulsion tension: clipped, nervous guitars rubbing against a rhythm section that never quite relaxes. Josephmary’s vocal delivery feels deliberately strained, as if the song itself is resisting comfort. There’s no chorus begging for release here — just pressure, repetition, and a sense of being trapped inside a system that sells freedom by the square foot.
What makes ‘Mall Monarchy’ so emblematic of the New Wave of New Wave isn’t just its aggression, but its intelligence. While Britpop was busy mythologising Britishness and grunge was drowning in self-loathing, Compulsion were dissecting the everyday architecture of control — shops, brands, surfaces — and finding something quietly sinister underneath.
Decades on, the song feels eerily prescient. Swap malls for feeds, shop windows for screens, and ‘Mall Monarchy’ still reads like a warning rather than a relic. It’s not nostalgia listening to this track now — it’s recognition.
Compulsion weren’t chasing trends.
They were naming the space we were already standing in.
Rolling Craze, Toasting Indie 