Robbie Williams says he can pinpoint the exact minute he realized that fame and success would trap him in a nightmare. “Immediately. I realized immediately that it wasn’t going to make me happy,” he admits in a Zoom conversation with Culto.
Read more Captain and seven crew members were detained after fatal shipwreck in Cyprus
In recent years, the Brit has become one of the music stars who has most addressed topics related to mental health or how popularity can act like a boomerang capable of bringing back addictions, paranoias, depressions, private conflicts, and even illnesses. In a way, he has peeled back his life as if it were the famous video of Rock DJ where after undressing he ends up tearing off his skin until only the bones remain.
Unlike the torments that surrounded the career and existence of many figures who never managed to deal with their demons publicly—like Sinéad O’Connor, Kurt Cobain, Chris Cornell, or Amy Winehouse—Williams seems launched on a crusade where every word is a revelation that gives him a breath of fresh air in his afflictions. He has spoken about it in the Netflix docuseries Robbie Williams, in the biographical film Better Man—where he is portrayed as a chimpanzee—and recently stated at the launch of a new collection of his clothing brand Hopeium that he had been diagnosed with autism.
“I realized all this very quickly because I joined a boy band where I was the youngest member. And I felt the manager didn’t like me,” he recalls regarding the Big Bang that started it all: when in 1990, at 16 years old, he joined the group Take That to begin one of the most successful and media-covered careers of recent decades in popular music.
He is now 52 and—while talking to this outlet—is on the other side of the screen lying on his bed with white sheets, wearing a hoodie in green and pink tones, opening his eyes expressively to emphasize his ideas and ending many of his reflections with a mischievous smile.
In some sense, the heart of the 90s was not the best time to accumulate fame in a boy band associated with sugary songs, calculated choreographies, and rainy music videos. At least in England. Despite the huge success of singles like Back for Good, Take That was a product despised by the arrogant royalty of Britpop that dominated the island at the time and was never taken too seriously by critics.
Robbie Williams, with serious emotional disorders at that time, wanted to steer the group towards other creative directions, but he effectively ran into the thumbs down of his manager, Nigel Martin-Smith, who would also end up suing him over contractual battles. This led him to approach the Gallagher brothers, Noel and Liam of Oasis—although they didn’t take much notice either—and to start a solo career that crowned him against all odds as the most successful member to come out of his original band.
And, in full 2026, revenge also came.
Last January, he released his album titled precisely Britpop, the genre that always looked at him with disdain, as a product with an expiration date. It is the same album that will have him at the Bicentenario Stadium in La Florida on September 27, on his fourth visit to the country, with a show where he covers everything from his recent compositions to classics like Angels, Feel, or Rock DJ itself (tickets on Ticketmaster).
-Britpop refers to a very specific moment in British music. What does Britpop mean to you today that you dare to title your album that way?
Well, to start, I like words and Britpop as a concept is a blend of British popular music. And I’m British and I like making popular music. So I like words, that’s the first thing. And back then, I wasn’t allowed to be part of the Britpop movement because I belonged to a boy band. So I quite like the idea that a lot of people got angry because I called my album Britpop. And, in a way, I’m provoking. I think my trolling reached its destination: I saw in several comment sections and reviews that some people didn’t like that I dared to call my album Britpop.
–Looking at bands like Oasis, Blur, or Pulp, did you feel like an outsider, marginalized, next to what they professed at that time?
They didn’t accept me at all. But also none of those bands accepted belonging to a genre called Britpop. They didn’t want to know anything about Britpop. So, you know, it’s quite curious that I wanted to be in Britpop and they didn’t want to be in Britpop, when they actually were in that genre. But I have to say it: they didn’t accept me at all.
-And when you see yourself in the mid-90s, successful with Take That but not accepted by those you admired, like the Britpop groups, what do you feel about yourself? Frustration? Compassion?
Compassion. Sadness.
-Sadness?
Well, you know, I had a lot of mental health problems, many addictions, and had fallen into alcoholism and wanted to impress people I didn’t like. But at that time I didn’t even know I didn’t like them. And I spent a lot of time looking for friends in the wrong places. I placed a lot of trust in people who didn’t deserve it.
-You have said you realized almost immediately that success wasn’t going to make you happy…
Well, yes. I joined Take That very young. The manager didn’t like me. Legally, he likes to sue me, so I’ll just say I didn’t get along with the manager and also with some band members. And then there was my home. People were very jealous. Everything was scary. The contract I had was almost made to kill me. On the other hand, my mother lived in a reality where she was sad, depressed, angry, and anxious.
“As you see, the outside world stopped being safe. The inner world of our home wasn’t safe either, because the outside world had become unsafe. And my mother was reacting to the stress that generated. And at my work, the people I worked with and related to didn’t like me. So yes, from the beginning it was problematic.”
-Speaking of mental health, artists like you today talk much more openly about anxiety, depression, or the pressures of fame. Do you think the industry has changed in this regard?
I don’t know, because I’m a very small part of the industry. I’m not big. But what I mean is I don’t know what’s going on in other people’s lives. Yes, we talk more about it, and it’s normal for people to talk more about the subject. I think that, in itself, is a positive and healthy change.
“Are people being cared for? I don’t know. But I guess the most important change is that now we talk. We say things as they are and we know what they are. Back then, we didn’t even know what it was. We didn’t know what depression was. We didn’t know what anxiety was. We didn’t know what burnout was. We didn’t know anything about ADHD, dyslexia, dyspraxia, or dyscalculia. We didn’t know anything about that. We had a strange feeling that we couldn’t explain all that. And there were no words to explain or describe it.”
–Today, on the other hand, there is enormous pressure for artists to have permanent visibility through Instagram, TikTok, and other platforms. Do you think you would have survived emotionally if social media had existed when you were 20?
No, it would have destroyed me. I would have done something I couldn’t have recovered from, because I’m impulsive. I would have said something… I don’t know. You know, I don’t know what’s worse, being chased by paparazzi 24 hours a day or social media today. That’s no longer allowed, being chased by the whole world 24 hours a day. Honestly, I don’t know what’s worse.
-Is there anything you regret in your career?
Yes, releasing Rudebox as the first single from the album of the same name (from 2006). I never liked it. It should have been the third single, not the first (he laughs).
-Do you usually think about the legacy you will leave in British pop?
No. Or more or less. I’m only interested in entertaining. I’m only interested in thinking about the next concert, the concert I’m at, the one I’m about to perform. Yesterday didn’t exist. Tomorrow neither. The show I attend is, without exception, the most important of my life. And, you know, the rest is for the thoughts and opinions of others. I want to be the best I’ve been every night.
-Are you still scared of anything about being Robbie Williams?
The unpredictability of my anxiety and how chaotic my mind still is. Yes, that’s it. I never know which version of me will wake up the next day.
Read more At least seven dead and 23 missing after ferry sinking off the northern coast of Cyprus
