Showing posts with label graham coxon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label graham coxon. Show all posts
Saturday, 25 May 2013
Early Blur acoustic
Here's a treat for you, ladies and gents, from the depths of Youtube. I've never seen an acoustic performance in front of such a huge audience.
Tuesday, 28 July 2009
A Rough Guide to Blur
Having finally bought 13, I decided I could probably kick off my Rough Guides with A Rough Guide: Blur. Blur were/are: Damon Albarn: lead vocals, keyboards, some guitar. Graham Coxon: lead guitar, backing vocals. Alex James: bass, occasional vocals. Dave Rowntree: drums.
For most British indie fans, Blur defined the 1990s. Though Oasis too were at the top of the game, they just sounded like the 1960s on ecstasy (instead of LSD), so I don't think they deserve the legacy. Blur do. Starting off as Circus, then Seymour, the band changed its name to Blur on the advice of Food, the record label it signed to. Blur were a leading band in the movement Britpop, but developed over time into a more experimental, arty band - this may have alienated lo-fi punk guitarist Graham Coxon and caused him to leave in about 2000, which eventually triggered their split, after 2003 effort Think Tank. Blur influenced scores of modern bands, as well as spawning Damon Albarn's Gorillaz, The Good The Bad and The Queen and Graham Coxon as a solo artist. Back together again after 10 years, Blur may release another album, but recent media reports suggest that this comeback was just a nostalgia trip, and will finish as suddenly as it started.
Leisure (1991)
Blur made six albums. What? They made seven, you say? No, no. It was definitely six.
Leisure is the forgotten Blur album. It is forgotten by choice rather than careless error. Blur, who kicked off and lead the masses in Britpop later on, strolled onto the music scene with this repetitive, slightly lazy album. It sounds like The Stone Roses or The Happy Mondays, though it doesn't have the charm of being new and original. The world was still trapped in the indie dance confines of Madchester, and 'baggy', and Blur did nothing to combat this.
This is in retrospect. At the time, listeners weren't to know of Damon Albarn's later lyrical prowess, and Graham Coxon's later guitar brilliance, so they enjoyed the wholesome, innocent pop of She's So High and There's No Other Way without disappointment. Undoubtedly, There's No Other Way was an anthemic gem, and parts of Leisure showcased Damon's sultry vocals to full effect, and showed Blur's ability to inject emotion into tracks which other bands would fail miserably with (Wear Me Down, Sing, High Cool).
Popscene (1992)
Although only a one-track release, Popscene was definitely a musical turning point for Blur. It was a dramatic change, unlike their later slow evolution. Popscene featured a fanfare, stylish guitar ornamentation, and a shout-it-out chorus, drawing on influences like The Kinks, but also with strains of British punk. It seemed to be part of a calculated effort to be more 'English', after a destructive and unrewarding American tour. Popscene was Blur's first piece of Britpop, and arguably, the start of Britpop as a genre. It remains a fantastic track, angrier than anything from Leisure, and revealing Damon's first go at social commentary: 'Everyone is a clever clone, a chrome covered clone am I, and in the absence of a way of life, just repeat this again and again.'
Modern Life Is Rubbish (1993)
This is the first Britpop album Blur made: it combines social commentary with great music seamlessly. They slid out of the confines of repetitive trance indie and embraced unusual chords, a lo-fi sound and the first of Damon Albarn's very eloquent lyrics. For Tomorrow has it all: the detached melancholy which Blur became known for shines through beneath a perfect pop song, with a 'la la la' chorus but some fine observations on modern England in there too.
Other great tracks on the album include sensitive song Blue Jeans, about Damon's girlfriend Justine Frischmann of Elastica, upbeat but disdainful Villa Rosie and Sunday Sunday, and a lot of interesting, miserably loveable characters in various other tracks, including Colin Zeal, the uptight man caught in the rat race, the disillusioned Miss America, and the bitter Julian with pressure mounting on him. A moment of historical importance on the album is Star Shaped, a more personal track describing Blur snapping out of recent discontent and getting their dreams together: their career was to take off from there, giving the song meaningful resonance.
Parklife (1994)
Album number three exceeded all expectations. After a slow start to their career, and a sudden reinvention, could Blur escape the negative press they'd had from not being Nirvana copyists? Parklife silenced the doubters. Often hailed as Blur's best album, Parklife certainly contains fantastic pop songs: the famous tongue-twister Girls & Boys stands next to title track Parklife, and possibly their most beloved and beautiful song, This Is A Low. The album is more electronic than their previous effort, though it retains its deliberate Englishness: This Is A Low is a whistle-stop tour around Britain, Clover Over Dover a melancholy reference to the famous Dover cliffs, Bank Holiday celebrating the typical British tradition of...celebrating.
Though the most remembered effort, and certainly the one that catapulted Blur to fame, I don't find Parklife as fulfilling a listen as I'm told I should. The merry-go-round electronics are lost on me, Graham Coxon's distinctive guitar sound stifled under unnecessary polish in places. However, there is beauty in the innocence of this album. After Parklife, after a lot of bright lights came into the equation, Blur lost the youthful simplicity in Parklife and previous albums. I'd say it's an essential Blur album, either way: it marked their rise to fame, contains some of their best and most popular songs, and definitely defines what most people think of as Blur.
The Great Escape (1995)
Maybe the fame went to their heads. Maybe Blur felt under pressure to recreate the success which surrounded Parklife, but whatever possessed them, it made them write The Great Escape. There are some good songs on this album, but it sounds like it hates itself. Not clear enough? The songs are sung without Damon's usual soul, and the social commentary almost parodies itself in places: Dan Abnormal and Ernold Same are amongst the many tired descriptions of tired characters.
Even then, Blur cannot stray from writing catchy tunes. Graham Coxon's guitar skills are brought to the fore, and there are some moments which are a lot of fun: the risqué middle section of Mr Robinson's Quango ("I'm wearing black French knickers under my suit, got stockings and suspenders on, I'm feeling rather loose"), the punk madness of Globe Alone and the uplifting quirkiness of It Could Be You. Country House made a commercial splash. Also, of course, this album bred The Universal, somehow infinitely sad and infinitely uplifting at the same time, and destined to be the background music on adverts for decades to come.
Offering the opposite perspective, some people love The Great Escape - they like the classic tunes without getting bogged down in the 'soul' or the subjective charm of the album. And I can't have disliked it at first: it got me into Blur.
Blur (1997)
Perhaps The Great Escape was the last Britpop album Blur made. Speculation as to why this album is self-titled usually leads back round to the fact that this is a much more personal album, with less commentary and more reflective lyrics: see Beetlebum, You're So Great and Look Inside America. If the previous album sounded tired and like it was retreading old ground, this sounded like a rejuvenation of Blur, but still with a lot of darkness between the lines. Beetlebum is said by some to be about Justine Frischmann's heroin addiction, the fast punk of Song 2 (probably their most famous and successful song) is lined with anger, and lots of the middle tracks are slower and more morose than ever before.
This album uses electronics in a different way to those before it, the slurping sounds in I'm Just A Killer For Your Love a good example: they are less merry-go-round and childish than earlier in their career. Essex Dogs was a pointer as to where they were going next, musically. Blur bridges a gap between the light-hearted but lethargic Britpop of The Great Escape and the new directions of13, rather than standing out as a great album in its own right. However, it did spawn Song 2, Blur's first major US hit, live favourite Beetlebum and Graham's first lead vocal track You're So Great (charming in its boyishness, but somehow lacking, like much of Graham's later solo material.)
13 (1999)
To end the nineties, and end Blur as we knew it, they released 13. To me, 13 sounds like Damon's album, with Graham fighting for the lead where he used to share it so well. 13 is experimental and by no means Britpop. It uses those more adult electronics glimpsed in the self-titled, but much more, and with much more precision. Graham's punk guitar (which defined Chinese Bombs, Song 2 and Movin' On on the previous album) is in competition with Damon's preference for distorted electronic sounds and strange new auditory experiments. The new Blur sounds like it has four different directions, four people pulling four different ways. This was probably true: the band was made up of a politician and family man, a pilot and farmer, a world music buff, and probably most worringly, a hopeful solo artist in Graham.
I really like 13. It doesn't have as many singalong moments or big choruses as Blur would usually have (minus famous break-up singalong song Tender), but it has a gritty quality and an intensity they've never had before. It could be because there is so much going on in every track: they have all really learnt to play, loudly, and with electronics and distortion layered over the top, the texture is forever changing and drawing you in. The lyrics are almost entirely abstract or reflective, leaving behind social commentary. Graham's only lead vocal track, Coffee & TV, reveals that underneath all Damon's new direction, Graham is stifled and wanting to get out.
Get out is exactly what he did. By 2000, Blur and Graham Coxon were two separate artists. The band played some shows as a threesome, with Damon Albarn expermenting (albeit not with flair) on a guitar, and Alex James and Dave Rowntree just ploughing on - the band went to record Think Tank in South America and Morocco and Graham never turned up. Alex James was the closest to Graham in the band since he and Damon's friendship had become tense, and he remembers feeling that the band's balance was in jeopardy.
Think Tank (2003)
Not content with their six albums, Blur released their Best Of with unheard track Music Is My Radar in 2000. It lacks simply because they made a great seventh album in 2003 and it's not represented. If you want a compliation album, this year's Midlife: A Beginner's Guide to Blur is probably the CD to go for: they have chosen the tracks and it is definitely a greater compliation. It also contains Popscene, which is quite hard to find otherwise.
Books
There is a well-publicised Damon Albarn biography - Gorillaz and other fables or something - but I don't recommend it. I got about thirty pages in, and despite being very interested in Damon's life, I couldn't get any further. It was dry and dull, packed with facts which you couldn't possibly remember all of, and very little analysis or style. If you were writing an essay on Bohemian upbringing, maybe you'd like it. After reading it, you can quote facts about what his music teacher thought of him for the rest of time, but it's not a fun read.
Bit of a Blur by Alex James, on the other hand, is a fantastic read. It doesn't fill you in on the technicals of the music in depth, but it does give you a few hundred page analysis of various types of alcohol, and girls, and it does so with wit and humour and charm. You may think he's an arrogant git, and you may well be right, but I've read this twice and it still makes me laugh and come out with gooey motherly 'awwww's every few minutes. It is history as well, remember. There are still facts (when he can remember them).
Any other Blur books are uncharted territory for me. By all means explore. There is a world of Blur at your fingertips, and I hope I've made it a little more accessible in this colossal block of heartfelt writing.
For most British indie fans, Blur defined the 1990s. Though Oasis too were at the top of the game, they just sounded like the 1960s on ecstasy (instead of LSD), so I don't think they deserve the legacy. Blur do. Starting off as Circus, then Seymour, the band changed its name to Blur on the advice of Food, the record label it signed to. Blur were a leading band in the movement Britpop, but developed over time into a more experimental, arty band - this may have alienated lo-fi punk guitarist Graham Coxon and caused him to leave in about 2000, which eventually triggered their split, after 2003 effort Think Tank. Blur influenced scores of modern bands, as well as spawning Damon Albarn's Gorillaz, The Good The Bad and The Queen and Graham Coxon as a solo artist. Back together again after 10 years, Blur may release another album, but recent media reports suggest that this comeback was just a nostalgia trip, and will finish as suddenly as it started.
Leisure (1991)
Blur made six albums. What? They made seven, you say? No, no. It was definitely six.
Leisure is the forgotten Blur album. It is forgotten by choice rather than careless error. Blur, who kicked off and lead the masses in Britpop later on, strolled onto the music scene with this repetitive, slightly lazy album. It sounds like The Stone Roses or The Happy Mondays, though it doesn't have the charm of being new and original. The world was still trapped in the indie dance confines of Madchester, and 'baggy', and Blur did nothing to combat this.
This is in retrospect. At the time, listeners weren't to know of Damon Albarn's later lyrical prowess, and Graham Coxon's later guitar brilliance, so they enjoyed the wholesome, innocent pop of She's So High and There's No Other Way without disappointment. Undoubtedly, There's No Other Way was an anthemic gem, and parts of Leisure showcased Damon's sultry vocals to full effect, and showed Blur's ability to inject emotion into tracks which other bands would fail miserably with (Wear Me Down, Sing, High Cool).
Popscene (1992)
Although only a one-track release, Popscene was definitely a musical turning point for Blur. It was a dramatic change, unlike their later slow evolution. Popscene featured a fanfare, stylish guitar ornamentation, and a shout-it-out chorus, drawing on influences like The Kinks, but also with strains of British punk. It seemed to be part of a calculated effort to be more 'English', after a destructive and unrewarding American tour. Popscene was Blur's first piece of Britpop, and arguably, the start of Britpop as a genre. It remains a fantastic track, angrier than anything from Leisure, and revealing Damon's first go at social commentary: 'Everyone is a clever clone, a chrome covered clone am I, and in the absence of a way of life, just repeat this again and again.'
Modern Life Is Rubbish (1993)
This is the first Britpop album Blur made: it combines social commentary with great music seamlessly. They slid out of the confines of repetitive trance indie and embraced unusual chords, a lo-fi sound and the first of Damon Albarn's very eloquent lyrics. For Tomorrow has it all: the detached melancholy which Blur became known for shines through beneath a perfect pop song, with a 'la la la' chorus but some fine observations on modern England in there too.
Other great tracks on the album include sensitive song Blue Jeans, about Damon's girlfriend Justine Frischmann of Elastica, upbeat but disdainful Villa Rosie and Sunday Sunday, and a lot of interesting, miserably loveable characters in various other tracks, including Colin Zeal, the uptight man caught in the rat race, the disillusioned Miss America, and the bitter Julian with pressure mounting on him. A moment of historical importance on the album is Star Shaped, a more personal track describing Blur snapping out of recent discontent and getting their dreams together: their career was to take off from there, giving the song meaningful resonance.
Parklife (1994)
Album number three exceeded all expectations. After a slow start to their career, and a sudden reinvention, could Blur escape the negative press they'd had from not being Nirvana copyists? Parklife silenced the doubters. Often hailed as Blur's best album, Parklife certainly contains fantastic pop songs: the famous tongue-twister Girls & Boys stands next to title track Parklife, and possibly their most beloved and beautiful song, This Is A Low. The album is more electronic than their previous effort, though it retains its deliberate Englishness: This Is A Low is a whistle-stop tour around Britain, Clover Over Dover a melancholy reference to the famous Dover cliffs, Bank Holiday celebrating the typical British tradition of...celebrating.
Though the most remembered effort, and certainly the one that catapulted Blur to fame, I don't find Parklife as fulfilling a listen as I'm told I should. The merry-go-round electronics are lost on me, Graham Coxon's distinctive guitar sound stifled under unnecessary polish in places. However, there is beauty in the innocence of this album. After Parklife, after a lot of bright lights came into the equation, Blur lost the youthful simplicity in Parklife and previous albums. I'd say it's an essential Blur album, either way: it marked their rise to fame, contains some of their best and most popular songs, and definitely defines what most people think of as Blur.
The Great Escape (1995)
Maybe the fame went to their heads. Maybe Blur felt under pressure to recreate the success which surrounded Parklife, but whatever possessed them, it made them write The Great Escape. There are some good songs on this album, but it sounds like it hates itself. Not clear enough? The songs are sung without Damon's usual soul, and the social commentary almost parodies itself in places: Dan Abnormal and Ernold Same are amongst the many tired descriptions of tired characters.
Even then, Blur cannot stray from writing catchy tunes. Graham Coxon's guitar skills are brought to the fore, and there are some moments which are a lot of fun: the risqué middle section of Mr Robinson's Quango ("I'm wearing black French knickers under my suit, got stockings and suspenders on, I'm feeling rather loose"), the punk madness of Globe Alone and the uplifting quirkiness of It Could Be You. Country House made a commercial splash. Also, of course, this album bred The Universal, somehow infinitely sad and infinitely uplifting at the same time, and destined to be the background music on adverts for decades to come.
Offering the opposite perspective, some people love The Great Escape - they like the classic tunes without getting bogged down in the 'soul' or the subjective charm of the album. And I can't have disliked it at first: it got me into Blur.
Blur (1997)
Perhaps The Great Escape was the last Britpop album Blur made. Speculation as to why this album is self-titled usually leads back round to the fact that this is a much more personal album, with less commentary and more reflective lyrics: see Beetlebum, You're So Great and Look Inside America. If the previous album sounded tired and like it was retreading old ground, this sounded like a rejuvenation of Blur, but still with a lot of darkness between the lines. Beetlebum is said by some to be about Justine Frischmann's heroin addiction, the fast punk of Song 2 (probably their most famous and successful song) is lined with anger, and lots of the middle tracks are slower and more morose than ever before.
This album uses electronics in a different way to those before it, the slurping sounds in I'm Just A Killer For Your Love a good example: they are less merry-go-round and childish than earlier in their career. Essex Dogs was a pointer as to where they were going next, musically. Blur bridges a gap between the light-hearted but lethargic Britpop of The Great Escape and the new directions of13, rather than standing out as a great album in its own right. However, it did spawn Song 2, Blur's first major US hit, live favourite Beetlebum and Graham's first lead vocal track You're So Great (charming in its boyishness, but somehow lacking, like much of Graham's later solo material.)
13 (1999)
To end the nineties, and end Blur as we knew it, they released 13. To me, 13 sounds like Damon's album, with Graham fighting for the lead where he used to share it so well. 13 is experimental and by no means Britpop. It uses those more adult electronics glimpsed in the self-titled, but much more, and with much more precision. Graham's punk guitar (which defined Chinese Bombs, Song 2 and Movin' On on the previous album) is in competition with Damon's preference for distorted electronic sounds and strange new auditory experiments. The new Blur sounds like it has four different directions, four people pulling four different ways. This was probably true: the band was made up of a politician and family man, a pilot and farmer, a world music buff, and probably most worringly, a hopeful solo artist in Graham.
I really like 13. It doesn't have as many singalong moments or big choruses as Blur would usually have (minus famous break-up singalong song Tender), but it has a gritty quality and an intensity they've never had before. It could be because there is so much going on in every track: they have all really learnt to play, loudly, and with electronics and distortion layered over the top, the texture is forever changing and drawing you in. The lyrics are almost entirely abstract or reflective, leaving behind social commentary. Graham's only lead vocal track, Coffee & TV, reveals that underneath all Damon's new direction, Graham is stifled and wanting to get out.
Get out is exactly what he did. By 2000, Blur and Graham Coxon were two separate artists. The band played some shows as a threesome, with Damon Albarn expermenting (albeit not with flair) on a guitar, and Alex James and Dave Rowntree just ploughing on - the band went to record Think Tank in South America and Morocco and Graham never turned up. Alex James was the closest to Graham in the band since he and Damon's friendship had become tense, and he remembers feeling that the band's balance was in jeopardy.
Think Tank (2003)
Think Tank is Damon Albarn's album for ideas, and Alex James' and Dave Rowntree's album for form. The bassist and drummer had got very good by then, but were always in the shadow of unwilling star Graham Coxon for talent. Now, Alex's eloquence on the bass and Dave's precision as a drummer (on the tracks he plays on) can be heard through the mix.
Without the aggression and tension on previous albums, the thing which Damon excels at can be heard best: the lyrics. Damon's lyrical skill is sometimes elusive, because he doesn't use florid language or heavy metaphors, he writes eloquently and simply and sets the words to the exact melody they need. There are hints of his politics on Think Tank in Moroccan Peoples Revolutionary Bowls Club and We've Got A File On You and, between softer numbers, electro punk rock to sustain your interest: We've Got A File On You and Crazy Beat, which is a perfect indie dance-floor classic. Sultry Brothers & Sisters commenting on drug use (which Blur had been very familiar with in the past) is a highlight.
What am I saying? Think Tank is one long highlight, in my opinion. It sounds like Damon breaking free of Graham, a very miserable notion which leads to a great sound, and at the same time it sounds complete. It's made for the summer, every chord evoking the beautiful scenery in which it was made (especially Out of Time, which has taken on South America, in the background noise and the music itself). Blur were at the end of the road though. Alex was right: a band is a very careful equilibrium, and this couldn't work for more than one album.
Blur didn't explode in a public supernova argument, band members didn't die suddenly, and the public didn't knock them from their podium after a bad album. Blur just fizzled out. The drink and merriment had been deserted, because though it had once bound them together, it now tore them apart. Blur gave way to new projects, including cheese-making and law school and folk music and Chinese opera. Over the next few years, Graham Coxon and Damon Albarn slowly reconciled, and they had a triumphant return this year. Lyrics bounced back from exalting crowds, roofs were raised, cheers reverberated around venues, and then the trees of Hyde Park. They headlined Glastonbury. Maybe there is a future for Blur, maybe there isn't, but it's certain that their legacy is now undeniable.
How to Buy Blur
If you are planning on buying/downloading all of the albums, I wouldn't suggest you take them out of order. They track a steady development (even more so than long standing bands like Sonic Youth) and all have some great moments on. However if you just want the general Blur 'thing', I'd suggest you buy Parklife and Modern Life is Rubbish, as well as 13 and Think Tank because they are great albums despite not being Britpop as such. The Great Escape and Blur are optional, though both have classic tracks on them. Leisure - well it's up to you, but it's no real loss if you miss it out. In my opinion.
Not content with their six albums, Blur released their Best Of with unheard track Music Is My Radar in 2000. It lacks simply because they made a great seventh album in 2003 and it's not represented. If you want a compliation album, this year's Midlife: A Beginner's Guide to Blur is probably the CD to go for: they have chosen the tracks and it is definitely a greater compliation. It also contains Popscene, which is quite hard to find otherwise.
Books
There is a well-publicised Damon Albarn biography - Gorillaz and other fables or something - but I don't recommend it. I got about thirty pages in, and despite being very interested in Damon's life, I couldn't get any further. It was dry and dull, packed with facts which you couldn't possibly remember all of, and very little analysis or style. If you were writing an essay on Bohemian upbringing, maybe you'd like it. After reading it, you can quote facts about what his music teacher thought of him for the rest of time, but it's not a fun read.
Bit of a Blur by Alex James, on the other hand, is a fantastic read. It doesn't fill you in on the technicals of the music in depth, but it does give you a few hundred page analysis of various types of alcohol, and girls, and it does so with wit and humour and charm. You may think he's an arrogant git, and you may well be right, but I've read this twice and it still makes me laugh and come out with gooey motherly 'awwww's every few minutes. It is history as well, remember. There are still facts (when he can remember them).
Any other Blur books are uncharted territory for me. By all means explore. There is a world of Blur at your fingertips, and I hope I've made it a little more accessible in this colossal block of heartfelt writing.
Monday, 29 June 2009
Blur @ Wolverhampton Civic Hall, 24/06/09
It took me a while to register that this was actually happening when four of my idols sauntered onstage last week. I haven't recovered from the initial shock. There had been a complicated preshow bar system with all sorts of inside-queueing and confusion, so when I got to the front and saw four brilliant people all together on one stage, it was dreamlike. It was the best place to be to witness the brilliance of a Blur reunion first hand.
Two supports, local band Tukazon and Klaxons-esque electro-rock band The Magistrates, had kicked it off. Neither were exceptional, but neither got boring as they only had twenty minute sets. Blur came on at the early time of quarter to nine, to frenetic pogoing as the opening chords of She's So High rang out in the 5000-capacity venue. The crowd were fantastic: stadium-worthy singalongs and mass jumping ensued.
Alex James stood like a prize on the right hand side of the stage, posing coyly for photographs, flicking his hair and moving his hips. They'd all lost weight for the tour and looked at their youngest and best for years. Damon Albarn's energy was contagious; after the subdued poise of The Good, The Bad & The Queen, suits and hats aplenty, he seemed pleased and relieved to be back on a stage where he could charge around, stage dive and berate the crowd for not singing loudly enough. At one point he changed shoes because he was slipping around everywhere, to a crowd chant of "Damon! Damon!" that soon turned into a round of all the band members' names.
The setlist was vaguely chronological, with tracks from the shunned first album Leisure, the underrated second album Modern Life Is Rubbish and the famed third album Parklife played near the beginning. The first pause for breath came during Badhead, the crowd surprisingly nonchalant considering the song's delicate charm. The full setlist can be found here, two encores and all. Highlights of the night for me were Beetlebum, which was epic live, especially with that sultry bassline, Sunday Sunday with its manic second half, Parklife, which was sped up to a ridiculous tempo and punkified beyond recognition (Phil Daniels never turned up, sadly), Tender for the crowd participation, This Is A Low for the pure rapture, and of course, The Universal.
The Universal was just superb. It was the final song of the night, after Blur playing almost 2 hours, and the band buzzed with the most amazing positive vibe: they got a standing ovation on the balcony, and at the end, the whole band just stood without their instruments, grinning and lapping up the applause they fully deserved. It was fifteen years ago again, four men youthful and vibrant (despite the thinning hair and wedding rings), four kindred spirits, back together to have another go at it. Thank fuck.
I got a plectrum and Dave's signature afterwards, though teetotallers Alex James and Graham Coxon left early, and Damon rushed out, rightfully shattered after a fantastic gig. Really worth the wait, considering I never thought it would happen. I hope for a bright and Blurry future.
9/10
Two supports, local band Tukazon and Klaxons-esque electro-rock band The Magistrates, had kicked it off. Neither were exceptional, but neither got boring as they only had twenty minute sets. Blur came on at the early time of quarter to nine, to frenetic pogoing as the opening chords of She's So High rang out in the 5000-capacity venue. The crowd were fantastic: stadium-worthy singalongs and mass jumping ensued.
Alex James stood like a prize on the right hand side of the stage, posing coyly for photographs, flicking his hair and moving his hips. They'd all lost weight for the tour and looked at their youngest and best for years. Damon Albarn's energy was contagious; after the subdued poise of The Good, The Bad & The Queen, suits and hats aplenty, he seemed pleased and relieved to be back on a stage where he could charge around, stage dive and berate the crowd for not singing loudly enough. At one point he changed shoes because he was slipping around everywhere, to a crowd chant of "Damon! Damon!" that soon turned into a round of all the band members' names.
The setlist was vaguely chronological, with tracks from the shunned first album Leisure, the underrated second album Modern Life Is Rubbish and the famed third album Parklife played near the beginning. The first pause for breath came during Badhead, the crowd surprisingly nonchalant considering the song's delicate charm. The full setlist can be found here, two encores and all. Highlights of the night for me were Beetlebum, which was epic live, especially with that sultry bassline, Sunday Sunday with its manic second half, Parklife, which was sped up to a ridiculous tempo and punkified beyond recognition (Phil Daniels never turned up, sadly), Tender for the crowd participation, This Is A Low for the pure rapture, and of course, The Universal.
The Universal was just superb. It was the final song of the night, after Blur playing almost 2 hours, and the band buzzed with the most amazing positive vibe: they got a standing ovation on the balcony, and at the end, the whole band just stood without their instruments, grinning and lapping up the applause they fully deserved. It was fifteen years ago again, four men youthful and vibrant (despite the thinning hair and wedding rings), four kindred spirits, back together to have another go at it. Thank fuck.
I got a plectrum and Dave's signature afterwards, though teetotallers Alex James and Graham Coxon left early, and Damon rushed out, rightfully shattered after a fantastic gig. Really worth the wait, considering I never thought it would happen. I hope for a bright and Blurry future.
9/10
Sunday, 17 May 2009
10 Songs I Love Right Now (6) - 17/05/09
Libertines are my favourite band, and I Got Sweets is my favourite B-side at the moment, along with Half-Cocked Boy with its sumptuous chords in the chorus. I love I Got Sweets because it is jazzy, breaking into a walking bassline and instrumental solos in the middle. It's proper music, this, and Carl's voice couldn't be more attractive. I've been over-listening to Eight Days A Week (Beatles Cover) too. Let's hope this reunion happens, which their gig in London last night seemed to make more imminent.
The film The Boat That Rocked brought this song back to my attention. I've always loved it, however simple the chord progressions are. The lyrics about the taxman 'taking all my dough' work in the recession - it's a very miserable song lyrically, but it's so relaxed and manages to be uplifting at the same time.
Paper Cup Exit starts quietly, with repetitive drums and then a soft guitar riff. It seems like a 'skip' track until the unnerving verse comes in, with slightly discordant guitar chords against Lee Ranaldo's severly underrated, rich voice. After the crypic lyrics 'I don't mind if you sing a different song, just as long as you sing along', it drops to an edgy, almost scary riff. From there, it gets more and more tense. This track is haunting, but in the most amazing way.
Carcrashlander - Coast To Coast
On CarCrashLander's album Mountains On Our Backs, this wasn't a standout track to me, at first. I loved Quoting Dead Comedians and Capillary Webs. They're still good, but this proved to be a more elusive gem, with catchy lyrics and melodies that got trapped in my head, but were subtle enough not to get on my nerves.
Wolfmaaaan! You're giving me the hump, maaaan! I don't know why this track is quite so memorable, or catchy, or sexy, but it is. There is a long drum solo at the end too that sounds almost like African fusion - it's a great track, and I can see why it was a live favourite back in the Down in Albion days.
This is a track filled with such sincere-sounding tenderness, with such well-chosen words, it is impossible not to fall in love with it. Building up slowly from a simple drum beat, through soft sprinklings of guitar, to the soaring chorus, 'I just want to be, darling, with you', it is intoxicating. And it helps me sleep, which for once, is not damning.
Django Reinhardt - Minor Swing
If you can spell his name, Django is a brilliant find - I found him because he is said to have influenced Carl Barât's guitar playing style very much, which I can see. So surprised was I to hear a song from the soundtrack to the Johnny Depp film Chocolat, that I went and downloaded it straight away. Minor Swing is exciting, jazzy, displays musical virtuosity and reminds me of Johnny Depp, which has to be good.
After getting over the inital shock of hearing my stereo singing 'Oh! Listen to me! I'm on the stereo!' I found this to be a great song. The vocals are very American, which would usually put me off, but this time added to the lilting feeling of the song, with its lo-fi but uplifting edge.
The first thing I thought when I heard this was 'Man, he can play guitar!' Graham has mastered the fine art of finger picking here, or at least showcases it to its full advantage for the first time. It's a great track, very simple and repetitive rhythmically, but energetic, well-played and very danceable (it may not be in the dictionary, but you know what I mean, right?)
Marmaduke Duke - Je Suis Un Funky Homme
The album (Duke Pandemonium) is thrilling enough before this track comes on, but this comes like the cherry on a particularly delicious cake. Daft and excellent in equal measure, Je Suis Un Funky Homme is a wonderful slice of experimental dance pop - that high-pitched organ and those mad vocals...it's a musical delight.
Thursday, 14 May 2009
A 405 Update and Other Bits & Pieces
My first ever very positive review has gone up on The 405, a review of the CarCrashLander album Mountains On Our Backs. I decided to give it 8/10, for reasons you can find out if you read the review. That 'job' is going quite well, I've reviewed quite a few things already, and I'm about to submit a Graham Coxon single review, which is also very positive. I must be mellowing with age, or I've just been inundated with great music.
While on the topic of Graham Coxon, can anyone actually translate his Twitter updates for me? He has so many injokes with himself I can barely understand a word of it. That doesn't matter though, really. What matters is that he's got even more fantastic at the guitar for this current album The Spinning Top, which is out now. I reckon he's picked up an acoustic tenderness from Peter Doherty, judging by the single. If I had the money, I'd buy it. However, I've spent that money on going to see Blur in Wolverhampton; at least he profits.
I heard a snatch of Frank Zappa yesterday, one of the artists I really should know about and listen to, but don't. A few weeks ago I reviewed Marmaduke Duke's new album, saying I'd never heard anything like it. Well, now I have, and Frank Zappa did that stuff decades ago, so I'd like to mention that in retrospect. The nod for originality I gave Marmaduke is not quite so deserved, especially as if Zappa did experimental electronics in that style, someone else probably did too. My fault entirely for being too young to know Zappa first hand.
While on the topic of Graham Coxon, can anyone actually translate his Twitter updates for me? He has so many injokes with himself I can barely understand a word of it. That doesn't matter though, really. What matters is that he's got even more fantastic at the guitar for this current album The Spinning Top, which is out now. I reckon he's picked up an acoustic tenderness from Peter Doherty, judging by the single. If I had the money, I'd buy it. However, I've spent that money on going to see Blur in Wolverhampton; at least he profits.
I heard a snatch of Frank Zappa yesterday, one of the artists I really should know about and listen to, but don't. A few weeks ago I reviewed Marmaduke Duke's new album, saying I'd never heard anything like it. Well, now I have, and Frank Zappa did that stuff decades ago, so I'd like to mention that in retrospect. The nod for originality I gave Marmaduke is not quite so deserved, especially as if Zappa did experimental electronics in that style, someone else probably did too. My fault entirely for being too young to know Zappa first hand.
Saturday, 28 March 2009
10 Songs I Love Right Now - 28/03/09
High time for another of these I think.
Freakin' Out is possibly the most uptempo song about boredom you will ever find. It's about that month when you weren't going through relationship problems, weren't really in love with anything, didn't need money, weren't recovering from a serious addiction - and the absence of anything interesting was driving you mad. Everyone's felt it. This song captures that, with a fantastic little guitar solo and a catchy chorus. If you want to hear Graham at his most sensitive best, outside of Blur, listen to the beautiful Ribbons And Leaves as well.
Bite Hard is the best song on Franz's third album, Tonight, from the gentle but unnerving piano introduction, with unsettling lyrics, to the ambiguous cries of 'Bite hard!', to the fantastic upbeat synth solo. It's perfect to wake you up in the morning, and it's brilliant live, and it encapsulates the singalong silliness of Franz at their best.
The Libertines - What a Waster
What A Waster was not a crap first release. It was not a 'This band have potential, but we're gonna have to wait and see' track. This song, rightfully, gained The Libertines a ridiculous amount of hype as the British front line in NME's 'New Rock Revolution'. This track was, and is, a punk rock explosion of anger and youthfulness, referencing Ulysses and the Beano and the Book of Revelation, shot through with sadness, bursting with expletives and oozing talent...a brilliant song.
Levellers' most recent release, Letters From The Underground, is an angry, rough record, with guitar solos and fast fiddle sections and political lyrics; it is typical Levellers. This song stands out however as being a bit different. It's sentimental, looking at failing love: 'it's just one kiss to build a dream upon'. It's softer, more thoughtful, and has some lovely melodies.
The Strokes - New York City Cops
Like Last Nite, New York City Cops is a snapshot of a moment in time, in New York City, at night. It opens with Julian Casablancas being daft - "Oh! Haha, I meant: Ah! No I didn't mean that at all." This is endearing, especially with his undeniably sexy voice. For once, The Strokes abandoned their extremely repetitive strum-strum-strum-strum formula (at least on lead guitar) until the chorus. It's a welcome break.
Peter Doherty - New Love Grows on Trees
It is hard to sum up the brilliance of this song in a paragraph. It's beautiful, telling of the foolishness of teen promises and decisions ('If you're still alive when you're 25, will I kill you like you told me to? Well I really don't want to.'), telling of growing up, telling of new love growing on trees (?), all sung in Peter's fitting drawl over ambient electric distortion and acoustic guitar. It's so much more than pretty.
The Hair, now Club Smith, are one of the better new bands to make use of the fashion for electronic synths and samples in British music right now, because they combine it with catchiness, great percussion and some really (dare I say it) funky songs. Half Cut is a walk-along-the-road-smiling track.
Sonic Youth are still up there in my favourites, and now I've found Dirty, that's where they're staying. Purr growls along in two-chord sultriness: it's violent, youthful, brilliantly played garage rock. The opening riff is life-affirming and gives me the shivers. The lyrics are simple but definitely thought out. Almost as brilliant are the melancholy Wish Fulfillment and Chapel Hill from the same album.
A new track from the new album Quicken the Heart, due out in May, Wraithlike has the lo-fi edginess of A Certain Trigger without the polish of album number two. It's a return to their roots, only faster, angrier and with more interesting time signatures.
Peter Doherty - Broken Love Song
Played with 4 guitars onstage live, Broken Love Song is a very pretty track, with lovely lyrics about loneliness and a chord sequence to die for. Nice vibrato on the electric guitar makes this track, as well as Pete's voice, which works very well on this softer album. Want more of Peter being poetic? Try I Am the Rain, it's not as good musically but it's got nice introverted lyrics. Lots of metaphor.
I've been listening to a lot of music this month. Last week last.fm told me I'd listened to about 2 full days of music on my iPod and computer alone. Check these songs out, they might do for you what they do for me.
Thursday, 26 March 2009
Peter Doherty @ Birmingham Academy, 25/03/09
The first notable thing about this gig was the number of utter tossers in the crowd. I found it almost upsettingly predictable that Pete attracted this type of fan; it would have been nice to have an intellectual, sober, appreciative crowd, but alas, those fans must have stood at the back, or gone to see Metallica up the road instead.
I'll elaborate. You know that one group of lads with their girlfriends who ruin it for everyone by shouting obscenities, throwing beer, making moshpits, deliberately kicking people, smoking and fighting their way to the front? The one group that everyone is trying to ignore and rolling their eyes at? Well, I think 99% of the crowd were like that last night, or at least at the front. I stayed at the front anyway. Peter sauntered out when people were filing in, just after 7, shook hands on the front row and said hi. That surprised everyone.
The first support act were okay, a band named Red Roots. They played reggae indie, with a black lead singer and bassist, and a white guitarist and drummer: harking back to the days of 2tone. It was nice enough but got dull. There was no second support: friends of Peter wandered on and off the lit stage playing short solo sets. This included Drew McConnell of Babyshambles, who played three fantastic songs, one all in Spanish (for us girls) and one with Niko.
Finally when Peter came on, after Music When The Lights Go Out, he introduced Graham Coxon (to the wrong side of the stage, for me) and Drew again. The next few tracks were from the solo album, and though the crowd were rowdy as Hell, they weren't half singing their hearts out. Peter was on form, singing well. It was a good setlist too, though there was nothing from Shotter's Nation or Up The Bracket in it, a disappointment for me. What A Waster was in there though, the end of the chorus '2-bob cunt' sung with enthusiasm by the rough standing crowd. They got more and more drunk and objectionable, threw more and more beer and shoes and whatever else onstage. Graham Coxon smiled away, but all onstage were unnerved by the amount of beer and personal possessions showering their wires and amps (including a bag which Pete rifled through, 'looking for ID'). Drew on double bass was a crowd-pleaser, and he could play as well, wearing a fantastic Dracula-esque suit that I admired very much.
The crowd were not going to be moved after Peter went off, singing a Babyshambles riff on repeat and chanting. He came back on, played Time For Heroes, before letting Lee Mavers of The La's come on to sing There She Goes (The La's song, not the Babyshambles song). After this, Peter came out and played Beg, Steal Or Borrow and a glorious rendition of Fuck Forever. He stood on the drumkit and we all chanted along.
All in all, the performance was fantastic, but the audience ruined it somewhat, at least at the front of the gig. I like a bit of roughness, rowdiness, or I wouldn't try to get to the barrier, but some of those people were just self-centred gits, really. So, overall, 7/10, I think.
I'll elaborate. You know that one group of lads with their girlfriends who ruin it for everyone by shouting obscenities, throwing beer, making moshpits, deliberately kicking people, smoking and fighting their way to the front? The one group that everyone is trying to ignore and rolling their eyes at? Well, I think 99% of the crowd were like that last night, or at least at the front. I stayed at the front anyway. Peter sauntered out when people were filing in, just after 7, shook hands on the front row and said hi. That surprised everyone.
The first support act were okay, a band named Red Roots. They played reggae indie, with a black lead singer and bassist, and a white guitarist and drummer: harking back to the days of 2tone. It was nice enough but got dull. There was no second support: friends of Peter wandered on and off the lit stage playing short solo sets. This included Drew McConnell of Babyshambles, who played three fantastic songs, one all in Spanish (for us girls) and one with Niko.
Finally when Peter came on, after Music When The Lights Go Out, he introduced Graham Coxon (to the wrong side of the stage, for me) and Drew again. The next few tracks were from the solo album, and though the crowd were rowdy as Hell, they weren't half singing their hearts out. Peter was on form, singing well. It was a good setlist too, though there was nothing from Shotter's Nation or Up The Bracket in it, a disappointment for me. What A Waster was in there though, the end of the chorus '2-bob cunt' sung with enthusiasm by the rough standing crowd. They got more and more drunk and objectionable, threw more and more beer and shoes and whatever else onstage. Graham Coxon smiled away, but all onstage were unnerved by the amount of beer and personal possessions showering their wires and amps (including a bag which Pete rifled through, 'looking for ID'). Drew on double bass was a crowd-pleaser, and he could play as well, wearing a fantastic Dracula-esque suit that I admired very much.
The crowd were not going to be moved after Peter went off, singing a Babyshambles riff on repeat and chanting. He came back on, played Time For Heroes, before letting Lee Mavers of The La's come on to sing There She Goes (The La's song, not the Babyshambles song). After this, Peter came out and played Beg, Steal Or Borrow and a glorious rendition of Fuck Forever. He stood on the drumkit and we all chanted along.
All in all, the performance was fantastic, but the audience ruined it somewhat, at least at the front of the gig. I like a bit of roughness, rowdiness, or I wouldn't try to get to the barrier, but some of those people were just self-centred gits, really. So, overall, 7/10, I think.
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