Damon Albarn (Sort Of) Confirms Blur Will Record New Album In Hong Kong
Bands have formed, released albums and broken up in the time Blur has spent deliberating whether they will or won't record a follow-up to 2003's sans Graham Coxon swan song Think Tank. Has Damon Albarn finally made up his mind this time? Certainly sounds like it: at a concert in Hong Kong last night, Albarn reportedly announced the cancellation of an upcoming Japanese tour leg, adding: "So we have a week in Hong Kong, and we thought it would be a good time to try and record another record."
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Now, I know, a week doesn't seem like much time to record a new album… especially one with such towering expectations… but ...
"If I could have my way," says frontman Damon Albarn, "Blur wouldn't start until 'Popscene' and Modern Life Is Rubbish would be our first album. That's when we really became Blur." A direct response to grunge music's transatlantic ubiquity, Blur's second album almost single-handedly spawned the Britpop movement. An aesthetic interpolation of the sights, sounds and feeling behind the likes of The Jam, The Kinks and David Bowie, Modern Life Is Rubbish was a stunningly unexpected and, unsurprisingly, initially overlooked record—a creative reinvention best evidenced by Albarn's tighter, more focused songwriting and guitarist Graham Coxon's angular, concise arrangements. Still many fans' favorite album, Modern Life Is Rubbish paved the way for Blur's just-around-the-bend superstardom and countless other English bands through the nineties and beyond—the first of several consecutive Blur classics and more than worth revisiting.
David Rowntree (drums), Damon Albarn (vocals/keyboards), Graham Coxon (guitars) and Alex James (bass)
Using Spotify? Listen to the remastered special edition of Modern Life Is Rubbish in its entirety right here.
"For Tomorrow"
"He's a twentieth century boy / with his hands on the rails…" We open with a musical mission statement—a big bear hug for England, relishing in the choppy sights and sounds of London and building up to that campy, larger than life "La la la" sing-along. "Popscene" may have set the stage, but for my money, this is the first real definitive Blur track.
"Advert"
"Food processors are great!" Graham gets to let rip over a frustrated trash and grind while Damon scoffs a spry ode to post-workday desperation. "You need a holiday somewhere in the sun / With all the people who are waiting / There never seems to be one…"
"Colin Zeal"
Alex James's anxious bass line sets up the story of poor old Colin—an "affable man with a plausible plan." Just one of the album's many quirky, hopeless characters living in the 20th century sprawl. Graham's guitar break at the 2:08 mark gets me going every time.
"Pressure On Julian"
Kicks off with Graham's druggy, hazy wah-wah pedal guitar intro. "Here is my violence and here is the excuse," Damon scowls, setting up a crunchy, latter day Kinks chorus that suggests a hopeful outcome before sulking back into the "pissy water" of trippy guitar madness.
"Star Shaped"
A deceptively boisterous, more than slightly schizophrenic stroll through the doubts and fears of one nine to fiver feeling "so unnecessary." "We don't think so, you seem star shaped!" coos Damon's shoulder angel over the cheery strum of Graham's shuffling guitars. (The segue from that painfully-English oboe solo back into his gnarling guitar gnash is a glorious touch.)
"Blue Jeans"
A real overlooked classic and arguably the beating heart center of the album. "Don't think I'm walking out of this," Damon pleads over the tender hum of his melodica and Graham's graceful acoustic guitar. "Don't really want to change a thing / I want to stay this way forever…" Devastating stuff. On those rare occasions when Damon really opens himself up lyrically, it's something to behold.
"Chemical World"
Damon submits more of his modern misfits to fits of nastiness over Graham's swirling stomp box guitar, building up to a seemingly cheerful chorus of: "They've been putting the holes in / Yes, yes…" Yeah, yikes. Sit down and have some sugary tea.
"Intermission"
Yeah, um, you won't hear anything like this on Leisure. Damon has quite the laugh with his old-time, carnivalesque piano exercise, slowly bringing the band in and speeding the thing up into a manic stomp that goes completely off the rails in a delightful explosion of guitar feedback and keyboard hammering.
"Sunday Sunday"
David Rowntree's lively drumming kicks off another animated, whistle-along bit of British business complete with a rousing trumpet/trombone break. "You dream of protein on a plate / Regret you left it quite so late…" Who knew Sunday dinner could be such a headache, right?
"Oily Water"
Damon swallows… you guessed it… too much oily water over an extended, ominously slow-building grind of twittering tremolo pedal guitar that surges and boils towards a furious, intense climax. Have always had a soft spot for this one—could listen to that guitar drone for at least another ten or fifteen minutes each time.
"Miss America"
Speaking of soft spots… heavy sigh. A foggy acoustic guitar strum… David's clonking percussion… Damon's breathy hymn of a lead vocal. "Miss America sits in the shower / She's plucking hours from the sky…" Yeah, whoa. A pensive little pause before the album's roar of a final act.
"Villa Rosie"
A punchy, staccato grrrr of aggressive guitar stabs and "woo-hoo" fills. (Gee, wonder if that will ever come back, hmm?) Not sure where Villa Rosie is, but I'm thinking I would totally hit it up every night after work, wouldn't you?
"Coping"
Whoa, yeah, another choppy guitar rocker boasting a restless, manic Damon Albarn vocal ("I'm too tired to care about it / Can't you see this in my face?") and wonky Moog synthesizer solo.
"Turn It Up"
I think it's worth noting that this song boasts the lyric, "Kazoo, kazoo, you are mine / Kazoo, kazoo every time." Enough said, right?
"Resigned"
"Only you can fill my blank heart / And I'm resigned to that," Damon sighs over the melancholy, funereal hum of a melodica and Graham's bubbling underwater guitar leads. Ends… well, almost ends… the record on a somber, reflective note that lends emotional weight to the hustle and bustle of everything leading up to it…
"Commercial Break"
…While still not taking itself too seriously by ending properly with this playful, tongue in cheek little thrash and stomp jingle. Hey, let's take a drive to Primrose Hill! It's windy there and the view's so nice…
Have a favorite song from or memory of Blur's Modern Life Is Rubbish? Hit up the comments section below. We can all swoon over Alex James and trade scrambled egg recipes while we're at it.
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