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So it’s all over bar the
counting. The grinning Alex James is on TV tonight as guest host of quiz
show Never Mind The Buzzcocks, making fun of himself as a bass player and
cheese lover. Graham Coxon remains the 90s Johnny Marr, friend of Paul
Weller, an indie gunslinger for hire. Dave Rowntree can concentrate on local
politics or gardening or whatever it is he does. As for Damon Albarn, his
irons are in so many fires that it would have been shock if the Blur reunion
of the summer of 2009 turned out to be more than a spark.
So what was it all for? Why return six years after the band last recorded
together, a decade after their peak. Why did Blur do it?
Most acts reform for one of the following reasons:
To win the recognition their music deserved but never received at the time.
To force audiences and critics to reappraise your role in ‘musical history’
by emphasising the more creative side of your back catalogue.
To portray the band in a light which never shone it’s way before.
Because they are actually talking again. . .
There was always much more to Blur than “oll the peee-pol, so men-eee
pee-pol” and “woo-hoo,”.
But as these late thirtysomething men leapt around on the big stage at
Glastonbury dressed once again in their tracksuit tops like the modern mods
they one were, like the Gallagher brothers’ perfect but cleverer cousins, it
became clear that none of the above reasons applied. There were no new
songs, no valid artistic reasons for their return. The shows added
nothing to anyone’s understanding of anything. Outside of some
misty-eyed fun, they were an irrelevance; the very definition of nostalgia.
There could only be one reason Blur were back together. It was the same
reason most music acts reform - for the money. Read what follows, if
you like; it may still be worth something, though what was written only a
few months ago already feels redundant to modernmusicreview. But we wouldn’t
be surprised if in a couple of years or so, maybe less, people ask the
question “did Blur really reform? Did it really happen?”
Blur, Wolverhampton Civic Hall/Blur, Carling Festival, Leeds.
It seems to be a time for reunions and with the often disappointing
resurfacing of a number of the seminal bands of the late 80s and early
90s one could be forgiven for dismissing Damon Albarn and Co.’s
regrouping as a carefully coordinated, management-organised exercise in
filling their already deep pockets.
Damon has got Monkey, Gorillaz and any number of other side-projects.
Alex has got his cheese making business. Graham has got his somewhat
naff solo career.
Why would they need to reform? Why should anyone still care?
The answers to these questions are immediately answered upon Blur’s
arrival on stage inside this old hall.
“Now the band you’ve all been waiting for today. Wouldn’t you just
love to smother these boys in Haagen Daas ice cream?” says compere Mary
Anne Hobbs.
‘Lads’ in the crowd start shouting “hello, hello, good to be back,
good to be back”
It’s cold and dark in these open fields but Blur want to succeed,
opening with Tender, choir and all. Hundreds of people sing along and
wave their hands in the air. It feels like a huge religious revival and
you want to smile.
Damon Albarn seems to have invoked the essence of John Lydon prior to
I’m a Celebrity and the Country Life Butter advert. Graham is typically
moody. Alex appears to have been downing shots of the elixir of youth.
The point is that Blur are still relevant, or at least have gained a
new sense of relevance with the new wave of British guitar pop that’s
filling the airwaves.
Blur structure their set wisely early on, opening with the first three
more mainstream numbers from the recent 13 album, keeping it tuneful
and rabble-rousing without playing too many total classics - End of the
Century, Jubilee, Advert, Bluremi, Pop Scene. An excellent brass
section bolsters For Tomorrow before the band inflict the spinning prog-rock of Battle, thereby getting away with it with their conservative-minded fans.
It’s interesting to see that they go for a large proportion of oldies
selecting heavily from Modern Life is Rubbish and Leisure then bringing
out the crowd-pleasers for the finale all imbued with a new sense of
excitement, a new sense of relevance. Tracy Jacks sounds like it was
written simultaneously both yesterday and in the late 70s. Girls and
Boys stakes its claim as the first combination of disco and indie so
prevalent in today’s sounds.
Damon is on something. Later people who know tell me he was knocking
back the booze back stage, which explains why he’s rampaging about this
huge outdoor stage and concentrating so hard over every word he has to
say between songs as if he knows they could just dribble out in a mess
otherwise.
The years have obviously been good to these songs, maturing them like
a fine wine. Even Country House, as vapid and “mockney” as Lilly Allen
or Kate Nash in its first existence, seemed to have developed a
cerebrum.
Beetlebum and Tender sound better than ever. Blur round the gig off in
the best way possible, bringing out their more epic numbers. The
tricolon of End of a Century, To The End and later, The Universal
lending the last moments a sense of moment, a sense of greatness and a
sense of sadness.
Damon sounds off on Mogwai’s “We hate Blur” campaign. “I don’t get
involved on any of that bitter band shit anymore, y’know. Forget about
it. It’s all over,” he tells us.
What goes up must come down.
The obvious question now arises. What do Blur do now? With the
certainty of national coverage of their return to form through their
headlining set at Glastonbury, there must be a huge amount of pressure
on these four boys from Essex to reform and start writing new
material.
After such a great opening section, the band fucks up the shuffling
start of Trimm Traub and take an age to get going again. Damon turns
round and says to Graham and Alex and Dave like a school teacher “four
bars and in - right.”
This comeback has confirmed the importance of their place in the
history of music.
Let’s hope Blur leave it there.
Dave Procter says Blur are caught in a no man’s land with their fans
like REM on the Monster album tour. They don’t want to be Britpop but
daren’t go totally art house.
Mark Ellis (2009) Graham Chalmers (1999)
This article contains two live reviews from two different
times, June
2009 and August 1999 and was written/compiled before Damon Albarn’s
announcement that there would be no more Blur reunion shows.
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