This Is A Low
The story was that Alex gave Damon a handkerchief as a birthday gift. In it was written the shipping forecast of England. From that, Damon wrote ‘This is a Low’, not only Blur's greatest song, but also one of the best songs in the history of pop music. Taken on its own, it’s a perfectly good song : no one can argue about the pretty vocal melodies throughout, and Damon’s use of the weather as a metaphor for a country’s state of mind is typically clever and incisive. It showcases all four members working in perfect harmony (witness Alex’s contribution, which add a subtle layer of melody to the wordless passages, or Dave’s empathic drumming), and the production touches by Stephen Street added quirks (is that a backward loop or Graham’s strumming?) that made it wholly unique. In the context of an album, it would have made a terrific closer, and after experiencing the myriad observations of English life on the previous tracks, serves as a summation and a peak (the inclusion of the beery knees-up ‘Lot 105’ as an epilogue did not dull its impact one bit). It rivals Pulp’s ‘Common People’ as the greatest hybrid of pop song and social commentary. And I’m sure that this song is responsible for igniting thousands of people’s curiosity of England, with specific mentions of the Thames, Dogger Bank, the Bay of Biscay, and the likes. It’s a modern ballad with an antique quality, a tender ode with bursts of dissonance, a story about decay that manages to be fresh and uplifting,and a true classic.
Beetlebum
As a Blur fan, the long wait between The Great Escape and its follow-up is more than a little agonizing. Everyone, it seemed, has gone mad for Oasis, and The Great Escape, though greeted with critical hosannas on its initial release, experienced a huge backlash, with critics accusing its subjects as mere caricatures. Another tour of the United States still proved futile, and Damon, who commented that “The only thing we have in common with Oasis is that we’re both doing shit in America” was forced to watch helplessly as ‘What’s The Story Morning Glory’ reached Number 5 in the Billboard chart, and ‘Wonderwall’ became a worldwide hit. Graham was getting sick of being famous. Rumors of cocaine abuse circulated, and intra-band relationships were deteriorating. It is to their credit as individuals that the pressure did not break them, but instead forced them to regroup, to go back to their art-school roots, and made an album that didn’t give a damn about what the critics and the fans expect. That’s the trait that I like most about Blur, in that they seemed to operate on their strongest when everyone is against them. So in spring of 1997, we heard the first single of Blur’s fifth album, to be titled… Blur. ‘Beetlebum’ dropped all traces of the English ‘Oompah-oompah-Chimney-Sweep’ musical stylings of their previous work. Instead we get choppy guitars, angular rhythms and vague lyrics. And, dammit, it worked like magic! Hard as he might try, Damon’s pop instincts prevailed, and although the musical backing is jarring and odd, its delicious melody is guaranteed to stick in your head forever after a few listens. Plus, the lines “She’ll suck your thumb/She’ll make you come” managed to be both weird and sexy at the same time.
End of A Century
So good that even Noel Gallagher admitted his admiration for it.
He Thought of Cars
Overlooked amid other songs on ‘The Great Escape’, this hauntingly beautiful track is in many ways a precursor of Radiohead's lyrical preoccupation in 'OK Computer', in which the future is full of unease and paranoia is an everyday occurrence. It finally got its due when it was included on Blur's second retrospective "Midlife : A Beginner;s Guide To Blur".
Popscene
Or, the single that created the Britpop genre. It’s all here, you know : the punky pacing, the melodic basslines, the loud guitars, the horn section, the Cockney accent. Released in 1992, it was Blur’s Huge Leap Forward, their best work up to that point. However, the fact that it reached a lowly number 32 in the charts drained the band of its optimism and put Blur’s career on a tailspin. The press’ interest has moved on to grunge and all things American, and Blur’s standing as a favorite was well and truly usurped by an up-and-coming indie band with an androgynous singer and a ridiculously talented guitarist called Suede (named, lest we forget, by Justine Frischmann, Damon’s then-girlfriend). In retrospect, its unfortunate fate proved to be beneficial to the band. It strengthened Damon’s convictions to pursue a new direction, anchored in the uniquely British music of the Kinks, the Jam, Gang of Four and Teardrop Explodes. ‘Popscene’ ( a raucous, joyous blend of all the bands mentioned above) didn’t appear on the band’s best-of album, and its exclusion made it seem like Blur is spitefully saying to its audience, “Well, you ignored this back then, why would you want it now?”
To The End
Parklife is a great album, a classic, perhaps. But it’s also a bit bipolar, a bit maddening. Why? Because for every serious, well-crafted pop song such as ‘To The End’, there is a track that was seemingly created by very drunk people. It’s hard to think that an album with songs as punkish, as throwaway as ‘Bank Holiday’ and ‘Jubilee’ also has a song as graceful, as lovelorn as ‘To The End’. Even in itself, though, ‘To The End’ is a track rife with contradictions. The music may be meticulous, but the emotions are very naïve (‘You and I collapsed in love’), and though the mood may be blissful, even the protagonist is not sure about their eventual fate (‘Looks like we might have made it, looks like we’ve made it to the end’) To the end of what? A courtship? Does it mean now they’ll be together forever? Or the end of the affair/relationship? Are they separating? Remember : ‘Neither of us mean what we say’ and ‘Those dirty words make us look so dumb). For me personally, its swoon, its sweep, its grandeur is more than enough for me to reach a conclusion that, yes, ‘To The End’ is the greatest love song of the Nineties.
For Tomorrow
Best experienced as the longer version known as ‘Visit to Primrose Hill – Extended’, ‘For Tomorrow’ saved Blur from oblivion, and provided a manifesto that they will bear for the next few years. Its blend of punk guitars, strings and maddeningly catchy chorus provided a perfect calling card for the New Blur : gone are the loopy, dance-driven rhythms and the baggy clobber. The New Blur is a suited-and-booted, uniquely English proposition, and soon they will save England from grunge and have the whole of Britain in their cusp.
Best Days
Graham Coxon described this song as ‘sad, sad, sad’. The line ‘all the people wouldn’t like to hear you, if you said that these are the best days of our lives’ is pessimistic, sure, but the wistful tone and the jaunty piano solo in the middle made it so, so beautiful. Could the mention of London landmarks such as Bow Bells and Trellick Tower make its appeal more selective?
Sing
The strangest track on Leisure is also its best. Monotonic piano, slivers of guitar noise and Alex’s melodic bassline, and an irrestistible “Aah-aa-aa-aah” chorus. Best known for its use in Trainspotting where Ewan MAcGregor and Ewen Bremner ran away from the Police.
Girls & Boys
If there's a case for pop music as a product, then Girls & Boys stands as its greatest proponent. It screams 'pop song' from its first second until its fade-out. It's so catchy that if you listen to it in the wrong mood then it can came out as annoying. It's tongue-twisting chorus is immediate enough to be sung along with after a single listen. The drumbeats make you move your feet. The bassline (Duran Duran, anybody?) makes you move your bum. Graham's alternately keening and grinding guitars is the lone element that makes thing song a Blur song. And for the cover they put up a kind of photograph you'd usually find in a condom ad.
Sweet Song
Maybe he didn’t mean for it to be taken literally, but the line ‘My streets are pop music and gold’ from ‘Sweet Song’ perfectly sums up Damon Albarn. In him we have someone who can craft a great pop song seemingly without effort. Personally, this song is dangerously close to becoming my favorite Blur song. It’s just truly heartbreaking, almost unbearably so. And although the final line offers a dash of hope ( “I hope to see the good in you come back again, I just believe in you”),
Badhead
For a guitarist with a penchant for noisy freak-outs and obscure American hardcore, Graham Coxon is also a master of subtlety. His work here is reminiscent of Roger McGuinn on his heyday. Couple that with a catchy horn riff and Damon’s beautiful melody, and you got an under-rated classic, one that was bafflingly never released as a single.
Chemical World
Initially, I thought Chemical World was a fucking annoying song. I never really liked Madness, and this song seemed too much like a rip-off of Our House with Graham Coxon’s loud guitars making it louder but not very interesting. Well, I was a fool for having thought so. Chemical World is the perfect blend of the cheeky and profound. The call-and-response verses seem so simple, but the chorus and Damon’s coda of “Until you can see right through” is the stuff of magic. Great video, as well.
Song 2
If ‘excitement’ is also a song and not just a state of mind, then it’s ‘Song 2’. Nothing more needs to be said.
Blue Jeans
'Blue Jeans' must have been intended by its author as a very specific personal vignette. The mention of Portobello road suggests a certain location, the line about 'air-cushioned soles' and the title itself says a lot about the author's favorite things. But the beauty of the song is that its emotional core is very universal. It expresses the feeling of not wanting to change, of wanting things to stay the same, and the desire for understanding from your loved one. It's a great tune, though only rarely performed, sadly.
Coffee and TV
Worthy of inclusion based on the classic Hammer and Tongs video alone, this track's catchiness still possess a jittery core. The strumming on the verse (how can something be so lethargic yet frantic at the same time?), the switch from Graham to Damon when it slides into the chorus… there's a lot of things to like in it. The overall melodiousness of the song made this one of the Blur tunes everyone is familiar with.
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Tender:
Tender wouldn’t make any sense to someone who has never fallen in love and suffered through it. Tender spoke without any regard to subtlety, going straight to the point. It’s a bit corny, sure, but it’s heartfelt. And it was one of the first instances of Damon tearing his heart out for us to see (which will be elaborated on most of the tracks in 13). And anyone whose heart didn’t skip a beat when the London Community Gospel Choir swoops in during the chorus is quite possibly dead.
Young & Lovely
Young & Lovely could have easily made it to Modern Life is Rubbish. It can hold its own against For Tomorrow and Chemical World. It is easily superior to Turn It Up and Villa Rosie. However, the bland production does it few favours.
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Out of Time
Can Blur survive without Graham Coxon? History proved they cannot. It is simply not Blur without that nervous, bespectacled Greg Sage devotee stage left. Let's modify the question a bit: can Damon, Alex and Dave create a superb record without Graham's input? The answer, for everyone who first heard Out of Time, is a resounding yes. Out of Time is one of the most straightforward Blur songs. It's very direct, both in structure, tune, and lyrics. Graham's absence in this one is probably beneficial. The rudimentary guitar is ably aided with melodic subtlety by the bass, and the break in the middle, where it sounds like it was recorded in another dimension, is as eerie as it is beautiful.
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You're So Great
Alex has his ‘Alex’s Song’, and Graham has this. One voice, three(?) guitars, an endearing melody and a universal lyric about affection. Why is this not a hit? Because it sounds like it was taped from an old, beat-up transistor without an antenna and a wet sock on its speaker, that’s why.
The Universal
If anyone said that the Great Escape is an overblown piece of crap, they're half right. It's by no means crap, but overblown? well, one listen to the Universal justified that. It sounds like This Is A Low buffed up with a muscle suit. Justine Frischmann hated the lyrics to this song. She thought that “It really really really could happen” is a bad line. And, fair cop, for Albarn at the time, it was a bit blunt. For all its bombast, however, Stephen Street whipped up a string section that’s so grandiose that its (small) failings can be easily dismissed. Great Stanley Kubrick homage for the video as well.
Good Song
The ‘junk-shop pop’ tag may seem old-hat by now (Boy Least Likely To, Psapp and Nizlopi, stand up), but Good Song was a breath of fresh air when we first heard it. It’s also one of the few instances in Think Tank where Blur doesn’t try to replace Graham’s guitars with technological knick-knacks, instead letting it revel in its own sparseness. “Sleeping, but my work’s not done/I could be lying on an atom bomb/I’ll take care/’Cos I know you’ll be there/And you seem very beautiful to me”. It’s immediately memorable, it moves like a machine missing a few cogs, and it sounds like a creaky old music box that is desperately in need of an oil change. That’s filtered through an 8-bit video game. Which makes it all the better, really
Strange News From Another Star
Hauntingly beautiful but lost amid the rest of the album’s penchant for noise, this ballad was written by Damon when he discovered Iceland as a source of retreat from the UK, whose public’s affection for Blur was on the wane. It always seemed funny to me that although David Bowie received a co-writing credit for MOR (fair cop, since it does resemble ‘Boys Keep Swinging’ a bit too much for comfort), but ‘Strange News From Another Star’, with its desolate lyrics (‘All I wanna be/is washed out by the sea/the death star over me/Wont give me any peace’), spectral organs and quietly strummed guitars made it a much more direct homage to the Dame’s early epic ‘Space Oddity’. And, to keep it on track with its album brethren, it ends with a fucking loud barrage of martial drums and sundry white noise.
Sunday Sunday
The birth of the typical “Blur Stomp”. Sadly, Sunday Sunday’s greatest failure is that it cannot maintain its freshness. Every Britpop band worth its salt has copied its martial drums (Supergrass’ ‘Mansize Rooster’, to name but one) and none-more-English lyrics, but then, Sunday Sunday is not entirely original itself. It certainly owes a lot to music hall and theatre. You can almost hear Eric Idle or Peter Cook singing it on a TV Special. Its release as a single after Chemical World while not gaining Blur many new fans, but it did consolidate their position as Britpop torch-bearers.
Death of A Party
Demoed way back in 1993, it's weirdly prophetic : the downfall of the Britpop scene is inevitable sure, but it sure left a mess that its participants still felt : Pulp will eventually split up when JArvis Cocker realized that stardom is not fun after all; Oasis disappeared up their own arses in a cocaine blitz and never regained their vitality; Elastica just kind of retreated; etc etc. It's a sad song, lethargic in tempo, but its chorus once again shows Damon's seemingly unlimited capacity for a melodic hook.
