Some might say Morocco and Damon’s Mali Music have changed Blur. Not me though.Think Tank is still a dislocate hotch-potch of ideas struggling to take
shape without recourse to entire honesty or procedure. There have been exceptions of
course. Modern Life Is Rubbish showed a band grappling heroically with
a viable course of intent that was more firmly realised on Park Life, and
Blur proved that a change of pace and direction can still seem as natural
and as effortless as pulling up one’s pants in the morning.
There’s never been any doubting Albarn’s nimble melodic genius, or his ability
to pull out 24-carat pop anthems (The Universal, To The End, Sunday Sunday,
Parklife, Girls and Boys, Song 2). And few of these songs were really ever
chiefly dependent on the eccentric chops and strikes of Coxon – so there’s really
little point in heading in that direction – even though it does make for a far
more interesting drama.
Whilst there’s no doubting the pivotal influence of the band’s guitarist on tracks
like Song 2, Country House, There’s No Other Way, Beetlebum, MOR and Chemical
World it would be fairer to assume that his fidgety plucks and twiddles provided
gifted embellishments and hooks to what were already roadworthy classics. Really
not sure about that? Well, all I’m saying is that whilst Coxon’s immense gifts
may have melded the necessary four corners of Blur together and provided a much
needed sense of direction and originality, there really is more to Albarn than
a shape-shifting credibility chaser slavishly looking to impress all the time.
It may take some getting used to, but it’s true. And there’s probably no one doubting
his own brilliance more than Albarn himself who, on the evidence of Think Tank
and Gorillaz at least, seems be growing less and less appreciative of his
own prodigious pop know-how and more and more intent on pursuing the awkward and
indulgent posturing of mail-order punk (Crazy Beat, On The Way To The
Club) and ingenuine dub gobbledygook (Caravan, On The Way To The
Club) And just like his Gorillaz side-project, Damon still sounds like
he’s mumbling stuff into a microphone as a tune comes into his head and tries
desperately hard to put it down to tape before it disappears. Is this just more
evidence to suggest that whilst Damon knows exactly what sounds to make
– that he knows what might sound cool or sound inspired – he seldom
makes the effort anymore to organize these sounds into something truly meaningful. A conduit
for cool? Call it what you will – Blur are excellent approximators of greatness
but rarely do they exercise their own real thoughts or emotions. Great stylists
but not great innovators.
If Coxon brought one thing to Blur it was the beating of at least one original
heart. This is blindingly apparent on Battery In Your Leg – Coxon’s only appearance
on the album – and arguably Think Tanks finest achievement. With its bruised and
skewed descending runs, the guitar line literally forces Damon into making at
least one genuine melodic statement on the album. The other tuneful songs on the
album – bar the wonderful Out Of Time – whilst pleasing enough on the ear seem
unnecessarily self-conscious. Their very titles Good Song and Sweet
Song perhaps evidence enough of Albarn’s unwillingness to let himself move
beyond reflexiveness and pastiche and the limits of his own increasing self-consciosness.
Lets make it clear, until Albarn puts the effort into organising his thoughts
in a way that reflects elements of his own soul and his greater popular talents
– Blur are never going to be as vital and as prodigious as they were at the height
of Britpop, nor as fundamentally alternative.