At some point during the past decade and a half, it was decided that the 1990s were a golden age. While Britpop, New Labour and acid house do not immediately evoke the same spirit as, say, Versailles under Louis XIV or Augustan Rome, compared with what followed they were certainly characteristic of something.

Appetites for what the energetic Sawyer calls ‘the last nutty pre-internet age’ have never been greater

Members of Gen Z who have known only the colourless, anodyne first years of the new millennium speak of the Nineties in mystical tones. At a party last week, I found myself holding court over some twentysomethings who’d discovered that I am a millennial. ‘What was it really like?’ they asked, as if coming face-to-face with Shackleton or Francis Drake.

I had always supposed that I looked back on the Nineties with rose-tinted specs because it was the decade of my childhood. Listening to a new podcast Talk ’90s to Me, I am persuaded there is more to it; that the 1990s are worthy of nostalgia and deserve the envy of those who didn’t experience them.

If you’re old enough to remember a truly great........

© The Spectator