“Olympia” was the last song we heard from British dream-pop band Lush, completing a three-album arc from the blissfully distorted haze of Spooky to the crystal clear Britpop of Lovelife. Drummer Chris Acland hung himself shortly after Lovelife’s 1996 release, leading to the dissolution of the band; had they continued to release an album at the same pace they had before, Lush would’ve had four more albums under their belt. Would their progression away from shoegazer pop have continued? Would “Ladykillers” have been the new template for the band? And if so, what would’ve happened when Britpop disintegrated a couple of years after Lovelife’s release? Maybe they would’ve gone heavy on the theatrics, like Pulp did with This Is Hardcore. Or perhaps they would’ve just ceased to be relevant. Lots of what-ifs, never to be explored.

But back in 1996, things looked bright for Lush. “Ladykillers” and “Single Girl” were two of the band’s biggest hits, giving them exposure in the promised land of America. The album was the band’s most successful to date, and all this came on the heels of a major stylistic change away from their original shoegazer sound. With Acland’s death, things unravelled quickly; Lush stopped playing shows, its members split to play in other bands, and singer Miki Berenyi—arguably the closest to Acland—retreated from public life entirely, popping up only occasionally to sing on other people’s songs. “Olympia,” the last track on Lovelife, is especially dissonant given the unfortunate ending to the story; it was a carefree slice of jangly britpop, and a brilliant affirmation of the band’s new direction. Bursting at the seams with flutes, strings and a horn section, “Olympia” is, in a word, lush. As an album closer, it pointed the way to brighter things to come; as a career ender, there’s a sad and unintended finality to the last line: “And now, time to switch off.”

And thus ends normal programming for the year. Coming up in December: a month-long review of the year. Other websites give you their best-of lists in one go; I have the wanton shamelessness to stretch it out to four weeks. 2005 was an oddly uninspiring year; whether that’s a comment on the state of music or just a sign of how out of touch I am, I couldn’t say. But there were some diamonds in the rough out there, and some surprising comebacks. Stay tuned, kids: the action starts December 1.