Tag Archives: blur

#1234: Blur – So You

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In 2012, Blur released a massive boxset to celebrate their 21st anniversary as a band. In it, you would get (almost) all of their albums remastered. With each album came a bonus disc compiling B-sides and other additional material from the respective eras. ‘So You’ can be found on the “Special Edition” of 13, explaining why you see that album’s cover in the video up top. Originally it was released as a B-side to ‘No Distance Left to Run’ when that song was released as the album’s final single in November 1999. But I didn’t know of its existence until summer 2013 when I went through Blur’s discography on a whim. Heard it then, it’s been on the iPhone ever since.

What we’ve got going on here is a Blur track with a groove. Alternating between C minor and B major chords for the majority of the song, Graham Coxon lays an ascending/descending riff over the top, Dave Rowntree puts down a drum take that feels a little late on the beat with fills that sound like boxes falling down the stairs. All very tastefully done. The lyrics on show go into a category that Damon Albarn started to explore in this particular era of Blur. And that was to come up with lyrics that they don’t seem to mean anything and are more or less words made to match the feel of the music rather than tell a story or detail any personal feelings. A bit of a predecessor to what was to come with Gorillaz, I guess you could say. There are two verses of these “abstract” lyrics, followed by a melodica solo that echoes as each note plays, and the hypnotizing groove continues on until the energy fizzles out and we’re left with studio chatter to close the track out.

If you ever wanted to see Blur working on a song in the studio, you’re in luck. The making of ‘So You’ was captured in an edition of British arts TV series The South Bank Show in which the band were the main focus. The whole episode is worth watching if you’re a fan. But luckily someone on YouTube clipped out the parts showing the band rehearsing and recording ‘So You’, so I’ll just go ahead and embed that at the bottom there. So interesting to see the song’s transformation. What starts off as a discussion of chord progressions and initial showing of ideas swiftly goes on to be this fully formed thing where all the band members are locked in together. It probably happened over a longer period than the six minutes the video lasts for. But it’s still cool to witness.

#1060: Blur – Pressure on Julian

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I feel it’s fair to say that if ever anyone was to think of Blur’s Modern Life Is Rubbish album, its fourth track ‘Pressure on Julian’ wouldn’t be the first that would come to mind. That specific album comes at a weird space in Blur’s career. With it, they began to embark on the whole British music for British people aesthetic which would be their inspiration for their following two albums. But they also weren’t the massively popular band that they would become once that first following album arrived. Out of that ‘Life’ trilogy, as it’s become to be known as, Modern Life… has been my preferred record for the longest time, and while songs like ‘For Tomorrow’ or ‘Chemical World’ may be firm favourites among Blur fans, it’s the deeper cuts from there that have been right up my alley for up to 10 years now.

Actually, it was probably a re-listen to the album in about 2015 where a lot more of the songs clicked and I recognised the record’s strength as a whole. The one note that people may know about ‘Pressure on Julian’ is that the Julian in the title is a reference to Julian Cope, lead singer/songwriter for The Teardrop Explodes, who was also former bandmates with Blur’s manager at the time, Dave Balfe. The reference was only included because any lyrical/music reference (usually done intentionally by Damon Albarn) would drive Balfe insane. However, the song really has nothing to do with Cope, and if you were to have a read through of the song’s lyrics I couldn’t blame you if you were left clueless as to what Albarn was singing about here. I’m not even too sure myself. The ‘magical transit children’ phrase in the first verse was taken from some graffiti spotted during a photo shoot. But all in all, there’s not much coherency within those verses overall. Maybe the whole thing really was just a ploy to annoy their manager. With the “We planned it all this way” repetition in the choruses, it’s only come to me now that that is most likely what they were trying to achieve.

The song is led by this rolling drum pattern that I can only describe as sounding like a train pulling out of a station, joined by Alex James’s jumping bassline and Graham Coxon’s swirling guitar work. Albarn comes in on the vocal, harmonising with himself when the verses build in intensity with what sounds like the addition of more guitars in the mix, before falling into the short choruses that reach a climax with the elongated utterance of the song’s title. There’s also the notable instrumental middle part where the track’s tempo speeds up slightly bit by bit, increasing in tension before exploding into a finish with a climactic guitar chord and falling back into the train-type rhythm established at the song’s start. If only I were into my music theory or composition, maybe I could write this in a way that would make this much more informative to read. Hopefully, you’d be able to tell what I’m on about through listening to the song. And if not, you could at least watch Graham Coxon talking about the track himself. He did play on the track himself, when it comes down to it.

#1023: Blur – Peach

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This one’s a relatively new add to this long, long bunch. The track, alongside the rest of the Modern Life Is Rubbish 2012 special edition, has been in my iTunes library since 2013. But it wasn’t until a couple years ago that I properly paid attention to this particular number. I was snooping on the Blur subreddit and came across a thread which I think asked if any of the bandmembers had stated/mentioned their own personal favourite Blur songs. One response listed that guitarist Graham Coxon had once tweeted that ‘Peach’ was one of his along with a few others. Upon researching, I’ve found the tweet this was referencing. What better recommendation to give a song a shot than from the guitarist who actually played on it, right?

It hits immediately with the sharp tones of what I think of is a harmonium and a real woozy bassline, with a light acoustic guitar and percussion that certainly isn’t of the drum kit kind. So already it’s quite the oddity, but it’s intriguing from the get-go to say the least. The song’s lyrics are something I’ve haven’t quite grasped. As the songs seems to be fixating on this girl who seems kind of strange, sort of out there (“you’re always your way, you are”) but oddly attractive, I’ve come to think of it as a description of this lady being a bit of an airhead, or something of a free spirit. But I’ve also seen a few comments that really go for the dark side of things, judging by the line in the chorus where a ‘gaping hole’ in the head is mentioned and the “gun in your pocket” lyric. Supposedly, this narrator may have had their heart broken, commits suicide and literally shoots themselves, allowing the birds to feast on their brains. Two polar-opposite situations, here. Maybe this is a case that should be left unsolved.

The fact that it doesn’t sound adhere to the the usual rock band conventions is maybe a reason why it never made it onto the Modern Life… album in ’93, instead being released as a B-side on the ‘For Tomorrow’ single. Doesn’t much fit in with the British lifestyles theme that they had begun to delve into on there either. But hey, I’ve come to like it more than a few of the songs that did make the cut. It’s a mysterious dark horse of a track. Out of those three ‘Life trilogy’ albums, Modern Life… is my favourite. Covered a couple songs from it in the past. There are a few more still to come.

#1004: Blur – Out of Time

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The beginning of the new millennium was a weird one for Blur. They were all over the ’90s. The band’s singles and albums were a mainstay in the charts, and that whole Battle of Britpop thing with Oasis happened. But then that decade ended, they were all sort of dishevelled and in their ’30s. The band members weren’t sure which direction to go in. The band released a ‘Best of’ compilation (with great artwork), released a new single, and did some promo appearances. Search up ‘Blur 2000’ on YouTube, and it’s a bit of a trip. Kinda strange seeing the band performing ‘Girls & Boys’ with Gorillaz very much around the corner. By 2001, it was all about ‘Clint Eastwood’ and Gorillaz shot off into the stratosphere.

Couple years later, Blur got back together. Much to Damon Albarn’s hesitance as he stated in the No Distance Left to Run documentary. Graham Coxon left the band because of miscommunication, his own problems with alcohol and some strange handling by their manager. Blur continued as a three-piece. ‘Out of Time’ was the first taste of this new lineup as the first single from the then upcoming album Think Tank in 2003. I was eight years old at the time, I didn’t have a clue who Blur was. I didn’t hear Think Tank until 2013, going through Blur’s discography. I wonder how people must have felt hearing the track upon its initial release. It’s such a lowkey, very minimal track to choose as a first single. It does have a breezy groove, the percussion’s light and very tasteful. The thing that blows me away every time I hear it is Albarn’s vocal. Just so pure, clear and sincere, could bring a tear to your eye.

Released at the beginning of the Iraq War, the track asks the question of where civilisation is going with all the madness that was going on, stating that humanity was forgetting how beautiful life can be and that we may have gone too far into the deep end to recover from the devastation. That specific war’s over, but things aren’t going so well these days for anyone, so I think the song’s message still has as much poignancy now as it did then. You may across comments that harp on Think Tank because of how unlike Blur it sounds. To be fair, those may be justified. Coxon did play a massive part in the band’s sound. But this track came out of it, so I don’t complain too much. Contains a couple great ones that I’ll never be able to post about, and a few more that I will.

#982: Blur – One Born Every Minute

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‘One Born Every Minute’ was officially released as a B-Side on Blur’s ‘Country House’ single in August ’95. There’s not much online about it, so I wouldn’t be able to relay many concrete facts about it. I want to say that its drums and percussion were actually recorded during the making of Modern Life Is Rubbish and are virtually the same as they appear in that recording. I also listened to drummer Dave Rowntree’s podcast a fair time ago, and when this track’s name popped up in conversation, he advised for the people who hadn’t heard it to, “Just don’t. Just don’t bother.” Said jokingly, but with sincerity. To any first listeners here, don’t be frightened. Now, there are some kazoos and a glaring use of those old-timey bike horns. I don’t mind those too much. You readers just might. If you get those out of your psyche, you’ll find there is a fine song underneath to be found. Still, you’ll see why it was just a B-Side and not alongside the stronger material that made it onto The Great Escape.

The track carries on the “We’re oh-so British” theme that the band had cultivated for themselves in ’93, but had taken to another level by 1995. With a musical, Cockney knees-up element to it, the song’s another observational take on Saturday nights out and Sunday roasts, talking to elders who gone through the war and commenting on how, when it comes to sex, everyone seems to be doing it with reckless abandon. At least that’s how I’ve taken it. When it comes to the chorus, I’m not sure whether the lyrics are meant to be sarcastic or earnest. There’s something within them that doesn’t totally match the tone of those berses. When Damon sings, “Oh, well, see how we’ve grown/One gets born every minute” is that somehow saying that we haven’t grown at all and are just carrying out the same routine, only for the next generation to repeat? Or is the chorus merely just a assortment of phrases that seemed to work together for the music. Maybe it’s a bit of both. Maybe I’m thinking too much about it.

Overall, it’s a very catchy tune with plenty of melodies and musical oddities that will catch your ear over repeated listens. Some of those highlights for me are: those climbing “ooh-ooh” harmonies by Graham Coxon in the choruses, his higher “EVERY MINUTE” alongside Damon’s lower vocal when he sings the same phrase, those harmonies on the “gin” before the second chorus that go all over the place but somehow work, and that piano that’s turned right up in the mix during the instrumental break before the final chorus. Some may find it all rather silly. But there’s always a time for that sort of thing.