If music really does lift the spirits, and we are in for another State College winter, then an upbeat soundtrack will be essential to thwart the gray skies, cold mornings and snow-soaked sneakers synonymous with trudging across campus.

Although I have no musical abilities -- aside from a failed attempt at the recorder in fifth grade -- and have reporting experience only in hard news and politics, I am a music junkie. From the Velvet Underground to Rufus Wainwright, Weezer to Joni Mitchell, and even the occasional intoxicated appreciation of Justin Timberlake, music has always been an integral part of my life.

While abroad in England last spring, I stumbled across my flatmates' CD collections and became instantly enamored with a music era that didn't exactly catch on across the pond, but definitely ups today's chilly temperature.

It's Britpop and I'm addicted.

This English movement, which you may remember from the early 90s, plays like a guilty pleasure, but without the Total Request Live, tween-popularity that plagues today's American artists. Rather, Britpop was an era of awareness and attitude; a cocktail of hummable melodies, hook-driven choruses and chunky guitar riffs. It's a genre that ranges from indie art house (Radiohead), to loud guitars (Oasis), to glitter-rock (Suede), to infectious dance rhythms (Pulp).

It's a music genre a decade old and an ocean away from State College, yet, is applicable everywhere. Even though groups like The Stone Roses and Happy Mondays are key players in the Britpop revolution, let's focus on three more mainstream bands whose records will be easier to find in State College.

A good start is Blur, experimental art rockers from wealthy upbringings, whose narration of laddish life, pubs, Chelsea soccer and the UK class system was just too English to catch on in America. Sprightly front man Damon Albarn channels The Kink's Ray Davies on Parklife, the band's third and most popular effort, chronicling ironic accounts of Albarn's collection of made-up, stereotypical -- but entertaining --characters.

The disc takes you from a sweaty spring break disco in "Boys and Girls," into the mind of a man on the brink of insanity in "Tracy Jacks," to achingly beautiful sea ports in "This is a Low," all of which are complete with swirling guitars and Albarn's David Bowie-esque voice. Although each Blur album sounds worlds apart, start with Modern Life is Rubbish or Parklife before you move onto 13, their most experimental venture.

Then there's Blur's arch-rival Oasis, which caught on in 1994 with Definitely Maybe and then (What's the Story) Morning Glory? Brothers Liam and Noel get drunk, yell at fans, fight, sneer and shamelessly steal from The Beatles. But if you're going to borrow from anyone, it might as well be from them. Plus, Oasis' American VH1 Behind the Music required subtitles, which is always entertaining. But despite the tabloid accounts of barroom brawls and drug use ala Scarface, the Manchester lads produce heartfelt tracks such as "Wonderwall," as well as instant hits like "Live Forever" and "Roll With It."

Finally, there's Elastica, which personifies rock 'n' roll mythology. The group was a concoction of new wave, punk and simple fun, just like the Wires and the Stranglers before them. Lead singer and guitarist Justine Frischmann scowls, smokes and embodies the definition of oversexed, singing with a thick upper crust London accent that notes a mixed air of boredom and superiority. Frischmann comes across as a posh, indifferent, androgynous Debbie Harry in men's ties and black leather jackets. Not many people can pull off that look, attitude, and sound quite so seamlessly.

So what if they only made two albums? The group's eponymous debut, with key tracks "Stutter," "Waking Up," and "Car Song" is all you need. Their music is fun, quick, saucy and uncomplicated.

So look into Blur, Oasis and Elastica. Borrow them, buy them, or for those more technologically advanced, put them in your Ipod. When cold weather hits, the alarm goes off at 8 a.m., and it's dark by your last class, Britpop will transport you to a jaunty pub an ocean away.