Tag Archives: blur

#677: Blur – Jubilee

I guess I took a bit of an unplanned break. It was the holidays, and plus I had a lot of stuff going in my life that I had to sort out. But that’s all done, for now anyway, and it’s 2020. That is a big number. Happy new year. Hope all goes well for you.

The first post of the new decade goes to Blur’s song ‘Jubilee’, a song from their iconic Parklife album from 1994. Coming towards the end of that particular record, the track is essentially another of Damon Albarn’s third-person narratives – this time based on a boy ‘Jubilee’ who does nothing all day but watch television, play video games, and generally make no effort to get out of the house. This is something I can relate with as I’m sure many others can as well.

I’ll say this is really the last proper hectic track on the album. Following it comes ‘This Is a Low’, the emotional climax to the entire thing. Before that ‘Jubilee’ is a bit of a wild one. Snotty backing vocals appear at points, squirty synthesizers and some trumpets are thrown in there too. It’s a charging ball of energy. Because of its place in the tracklist, I feel like only those are really into Blur will know this song at all. They performed quite a lot back in the day though, so I assume the band themselves were quite fond of it.

#647: Blur – It Could Be You

I may have said this before but just to reinforce it again, I prefer The Great Escape to Parklife. I realise that the latter is recognised as Blur’s first classic album, it was immense for British culture during the time it was released. The former is mostly seen as Parklife‘s weaker follow-up nowadays. It also doesn’t help that none of the bandmembers don’t look on The Great Escape very fondly either. When it comes down to it, I enjoy a lot more songs from that album than I do its predecessor.

‘It Could Be You’ is a track from The Great Escape, released in 1995, and was also released as single – only in Japan – the following year. It is predominantly inspired by The National Lottery, which had recently become a thing around the time the album came out, with its title taken from the initial slogan that was used to promote the whole ordeal. Damon Albarn sings about what he could do if he were to win it, or at least sings from the perspective of someone who wishes to, alongside various phrases and observations on British society that he was prone to during those times.

Like a lot of songs on Parklife, the track is rich in melodies and general catchiness, pepped up with enthusiastic ‘doo-doo/ooh-ooh’ vocals here and there and quite the keen vocal take from Albarn. Actually, a lot of the vocals here seem almost camp in a way…. like it could be a musical number or something. Though it does help that they’re backed up by a relatively strong performance from Graham Coxon’s guitars and the rhythm section of Alex James and Dave Rowntree. Check out the fuzz bass that comes in for a brief moment during the chorus. It took me a while to realise that was even there.

#596: Blur – I’m Just a Killer for Your Love

‘I’m Just a Killer for Your Love’ is the tenth track on Blur’s self-titled album, released in 1997. For anyone who owns that album and holds it in particular high regard, it’s not hard to notice the slight quality difference in terms of production between this track and all the other 13 songs it’s placed alongside. It has an almost monoaural mix compared to the somewhat expansive sounds in ‘Beetlebum‘ or ‘Death of a Party‘, it sounds like the recording was accidentally started after Dave Rowntree starts drumming, there’s a Beatles ‘Yer Blues‘ feel to it in that it sounds like the band are just in this one room close together busting this thing out.

Well, there’s a reason for this. It’s the only song on there not to be produced by Stephen Street. Apparently, it was the very last track that the band worked on for the album and something the four members knocked out whilst working in Damon Albarn’s then new ‘Studio 13’. The track is very loose, rough around the edges, very slack in its execution but oddly seductive too.

This song predates Gorillaz’s first album by a few years but there are a number of things about it that remind me of what would appear on that project’s 2001 debut. The lyrics are a number of surreal images that when put together appear to make a coherent story, Albarn’s played up (or toned down, however you see it) vocal delivery is something he would go on to develop and play with more with the project, and just in general it’s almost experimental in its weird way.

Pay attention to Alex James really forcing that wah-wah effect on his bass, that’s some good stuff.

My iPod #434: Blur – Globe Alone

“Globe Alone” is the twelfth track on Blur’s fourth album “The Great Escape” in 1995. I like that album; I think it’s okay. But there are plenty who wouldn’t put it at the top of their favourite Blur album list due to the ‘faux-grandiosity’ or ‘pomposity’ some sensed in the lyrics and music. Brass is used in a lot of tracks too. Though being recorded at the height of the band’s success during the Britpop ‘movement’ during the mid-90s may have had something to do with it. But it’s on “Globe Alone” where, apart from the presence of a synthesizer and an organ in some parts, the guitar, bass, and drums take full control of the song’s momentum.

The lyrics in this case detail the life of a person who is only interested in the latest trends and what he sees on television adverts which is all well and good, but the music they are set against makes the second-shortest song on the album one of the craziest ones on there to listen to. Graham Coxon provides a wild performance with a roaring delivery during the choruses with vigorous string bends and messy guitar lines, Damon Albarn yells out every lyric from the high chest with barely any breaks, Dave Rowntree pulls off some of his best drumming in the track with a constant thrashing of the high-hat and several quickfire drum rolls, and Alex James ties it all together with a smooth bassline.

Blur changed their style for a more guitar-oriented aesthetic on their next album in 1997, and it is “Globe Alone”, which tends to be overlooked by, that could be seen as the precursor of that evolution. One of the most enjoyable to listen to from “The Great Escape”.

My iPod #407: Blur – Gene by Gene

The first time I heard “Think Tank“, Blur’s last album to date, was a few years ago when I listened to the band’s discography in chronological order a few years back. When “13” was over and it was time to listen to “Tank”, I held a few factors that were to affect how much I would like it. It was the band’s first album of the 21st century, four years after 1999’s “13”. But Graham Coxon had left the year before. And Damon Albarn had started his work on Gorillaz in 2001. Would this affect how Blur and their songs would sound?

Well, yeah it did. Guitars don’t have as much of a presence in “Think Tank” tracks as they did in all the albums preceding it. And recording the album in Morocco must have had an affect on Albarn’s visions of his track as there is a wide variety of instrumentation utilising instruments from around that region, and resulting in general experimentation along the whole album.

In my opinion, “Think Tank” is okay. You can’t be blamed if you hear it and think of it as almost being a Gorillaz album or Damon Albarn solo record if it wasn’t for the word “BLUR” on the front cover, and Alex James and Dave Rowntree being credited in the liner notes. That’s enough about that, though. Let’s talk about the song.

“Gene by Gene” is the penultimate track on “Think Tank”. This was the one I remember listening to and simultaneously thinking, “Hey….. this song’s quite good!” I dug it. It’s a feel-good song-for-the-summer track featuring sweet “oooooh” gospel backing vocals, a very prominent bass, and a twangy high string guitar lick that is repeated throughout. It’s big beat sound is also definitely the result of the production by a certain Norman Cook. Or Fatboy Slim, as he is more commonly known as.

Despite the track’s positive vibes, it is a bit strange too. The lyrics are quite random. Even though the lyric is “I’ll never forget”, I am still very sure that Damon Albarn sings “I never doggy” in the chorus. And those panning mechanical noises at the beginning, and jolting squeaks near the end are supposedly the band members hitting metal and jumping on top of a car. (Certain I’ve read that somewhere, but I can’t find the link).

In terms of the album it’s the last time there’s a sense of positivity and optimism, because “Battery in Your Leg” follows afterwards and a bunch of feels comes along with it.