The 90s Lyrics Triggered a High Court Libel Fight With His Former Manager — Robbie Williams Refused the Meeting That Could Have Ended It turned an old Take That fracture into a very public legal reckoning.
In 2006, Robbie Williams released Rudebox, an album packed with personal memories, sharp reflections, and unresolved emotions from his rise to fame. One track, The 90s, looked back at his turbulent years inside Take That and his relationship with former manager Nigel Martin-Smith.
But the nostalgia quickly became explosive when lyrics were interpreted as suggesting Martin-Smith had taken money belonging to the band. For the man who had helped assemble and guide Take That, the implication was serious enough to trigger legal action.
Martin-Smith launched a libel case, and the disputed wording was subsequently changed. What might have remained an uncomfortable argument between two people with a complicated shared history was suddenly heading toward the High Court.
The legal fight carried extra emotional weight because Williams and Martin-Smith had once been closely connected during Take That’s rise. Their relationship had already deteriorated badly, but Martin-Smith later suggested he had tried to create one final path away from the courtroom.
“I said we should just be friends again,” he recalled. “But he refused to meet me. It’s a real shame it has come to this.”
According to Martin-Smith, he offered to abandon his claim for damages if Williams agreed to meet him face to face. The proposed encounter was meant to clear the air privately and possibly repair some part of the friendship that fame, resentment, and years of silence had destroyed.
Williams reportedly declined the meeting, leaving lawyers to handle what neither man could resolve directly. That refusal became the most emotionally charged detail in Martin-Smith’s account, because the price of avoiding damages was not money but one conversation.
By December 2007, the dispute reached a formal conclusion in the High Court. Williams apologized over the allegations and agreed to pay damages and legal costs, bringing the libel action to an end without the personal reconciliation Martin-Smith said he had wanted.
The outcome publicly cleared Martin-Smith’s name, but it did not restore the relationship behind the case. Instead, the legal apology became a substitute for the private exchange that might have allowed both men to address years of anger and disappointment.
The controversy also showed the danger of turning painful history into music when real people remain attached to every accusation. For Williams, The 90s was an intensely personal account of fame, pressure, and his difficult departure from one of Britain’s biggest pop groups.
For Martin-Smith, however, the song crossed from artistic reflection into a damaging claim about his conduct. Once that line was crossed, memories from the 1990s became evidence, legal arguments, and carefully negotiated public statements.
The High Court settlement closed the case, but Martin-Smith’s comments gave the ending a more personal sting. He claimed the dispute could have been settled without damages if Williams had simply agreed to sit across from him.
That meeting never happened, and the two men were left with a legal resolution instead of emotional closure. The lyrics were changed, the apology was delivered, and the costs were settled, but the friendship remained the one thing no court could order back into existence.