A lot of people who love music have well nursed grudges against Blur which they are now carting into their fourth decade as if they're Sysyphus of Greek Myth pushing a large boulder up a steep hill rather than just music fans who can't change their opinion. Some never forget, regardless of the quality of the actual records that Blur put out these days. First and foremost among the reasons for this enduring rancour is probably Damon Albarn and the way he chose to behave for the best part of the Nineties. To say that he came across as a trifle cocky for much of that time is putting it kindly. He made himself a few enemies during these years who are not planning on forgiving him just yet.
Some might bring up bassist Alex James and how he's chosen to behave for the entire duration of Blur and particularly the company he chooses to keep when he's not actively involved with them, hanging with ex- Prime Ministers and Top Gear presenters, while living in a very big house in the country and flaunting his cheese at all and sundry whenever he gets the chance. If Albarn has behaved poorly, James continues to do so and shows little remorse.
Some don't care for Graham Coxon either and his tendency to act like a refugee from Mike Leigh's Meantime whenever he feels the need. Even drummer Dave Rowntree has his knockers, strange as this is to report. With some it's just a regional chip on a shoulder which will never heal and allow them to admit just how good they have been and can be. Blur just aren't universally liked and never will be, that's the bottom line, meaning their music and its undoubted qualities rarely gets a fair hearing, either when it comes to reappraising their career, or trying to make a fair judgement when they release something new, which they do seem to do be in a phase of doing so, every few years.
All of which is unfortunate as I'd say that their new album, The Ballad of Darren, (unfortunate title that), has a very good claim to be up there with the very best things they're ever done. Perhaps actually their best. This is some achievement for a band that's been around for as long as they have and are so persistently associated with both a particular decade, (the Eighties), and more specifically with a few years of it, (the Brit Pop ones). All quite a long time ago now.
I'm on my second listen of The Ballad of Darren now and it's confirming to me what the first one suggested. That Blur have struck gold in terms of product, to a degree that they haven't since the release of Blur in 1998. I was living in Brighton then and on the dole and it's a good contender for being the worst year of my entire adult life. My confidence and self-esteem was probably as low as they've ever been, I couldn't pull a muscle, and it seemed like much of Southern England shared my despair, utter aimlessness and lack of self-belief.
Oddly though, this was the moment of both Albarn and Blur's recovery. After The Great Escape, one of the greatest examples in musical history of insufferable hubris, arrogance verging on bad taste, and (with a few exceptions), insufferable, graceless tunes. What's more, Blur themselves realised how bad the record was and pretty much immediately I suspect. A band summit was eventually scheduled and Coxon and Albarn primarily, (I imagine), agreed that the co-ordinates needed to be reset, and dramatically, with Pavement and American lo-fi guitar bands as the guiding stars. OK, Bowie would survive the cull of inspirational figures. Beatles too. But never again would Ray Davies and his Kinks feature to the same extent. Never again .Until, perhaps slightly ironically, now.
Blur have been alright ever since then. Musically, financially and you would assume spiritually. I don't check my watch by them. I've never seen them live. I never needed to but they're a band that have served up genuine quality down the years by focusing first and foremost on the quality of their songwriting. I own most of their records, generally on CD and they're a band that have made their mark in a way that few have these last thirty years. Among British ones, what can you say. Massive Attack, Radiohead, Pulp. Oasis?!? 'Scuse me. Don't get me started on Oasis. Suede? I suppose so but Suede's records these days are atrocious and Brett is a Peter Pan figure who will never make his adult album.
Blur meanwhile make very good and increasingly adult albums. 2015's Magic Whip was solid if unspectacular. The Ballad of Darren is outstanding, devoid of weak tracks, with a confident flow that never tips over into arrogance as Damon still has a tendency to do, (with the Good, The Queen and Gorillaz and on his own) and with several career highs. It's as good a guitar band record as you'll hear this year, and that's essentially what they still are, although Coxon is pretty restrained for the most part, prepared to play second fiddle to his old mucker this time round.
Where to start with this wonderful record. Let's start at the very beginning .Like Julie. Blur set out their stall, no longer on an inner London Market, rubbing shoulders with Grant and Phil Mitchell, at least in their minds, like they did with Modern Life is Rubbish and Parklife. They start here with a ballad, called The Ballad. Most of the songs that follow are ballads too. Fortunately they give them different names without Ballad in them or it might get confusing. The Ballad is just alright. Several of the ballads that follow are far more than that. None of them sound like The Kinks. Blur have their own voice now. But Ray would be happy to have penned several of these.
Second track St Charles Square is yobbo Blur but also art school Blur. Post Punk Blur. Damon and Graham were always very good at this particular conceit. You want Beatles Liam and Noel. Listen to Beettlebum. That's better than any Beatles you've done. You want Bowie. Take M.O.R. You want Post Punk Black Country, Idles, Dry Cleaning. Here you go. St Charles Square. It's an actual song to boot. Better song than you could ever write. There's genuine swagger in the delivery. McGeoch and Devoto reunited. Those wonderful first three Wire albums.
Then a run of fantastic, beautiful Art Pop songs. Barbaric, Russian Strings, The Everglades, and the coup de grace The Narcissist. The best song I've heard this year bar none. How many British bands can operate at this level in 2023. Radiohead and Pulp perhaps but they haven't either put a record out for a long time so frankly I'm, not entirely sure. Damon understands. That he's at his best when he writes like the author he could easily have been. When he leads with his heart. The way he did in his best Blur songs. Not just the ones to make the crowd surge and go batshit like Girls & Boys, Parklife and Song 2. The ones I still listen to. For Tomorrow, This is a Low, To The End, No Distance Left to Run, Tender, Battery in Your Leg. Most of all when he and Coxon express their obvious love for each other. It's beautiful stuff.
It's all downhill from him. Poignant and sad. They're middle aged. Pushing on to late middle age and then wrinkles. There's not a rum note in the final suite of four; Goodbye Albert, Far Away Island, Avalon, The Heights. There have are always been poor songs on Blur albums before. Moments when they betray their discord, their greed, their opportunism and meretriciousness. Not here there aren't. They've expanded their horizons down the years and this is the natural destination of that blooming of their songwriting skills and personal maturity. They've upped their ante. This would sound good on a beach in Thailand. A highway in the Midwest. A family picnic in Sussex. Wherever you like. They don't make albums like this anymore. This is as much a product if the late Seventies and early Eighties as the Nineties. Bands used to put out records with this scope and ambition then on a regular basis. But Blur just have again. It's one to cherish. Hats off to them
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