Blur: The Best of - Blur

Track list:

1. Beetlebum
2. Song #2
3. There's No Other Way
4. The Universal
5. Coffee & TV
6. Parklife
7. End of a Century
8. No Distance Left to Run
9. Tender
10. Girls & Boys
11. Charmless Man
12. She's So High
13. Country House
14. To the End
15. On Your Own
16. This Is a Low
17. For Tomorrow
18. Music Is My Radar

Running time: 77 minutes
Released: 2000

I was never a fan of Blur during the Britpop years, not them, not the other lot, nor the horde of wannabe copycats that peddled indie guitar music of various degrees of blandness. I did fall for Embrace briefly though - as mentioned here. I warmed to them retrospectively, though Damon Albarn's other work (I have a trainwreck of an album from Graham Coxon too). Not enough to acquire actual albums, but enough to pick up the best of. I haven't re-engaged with their reformation either.

It's been an odd week; although I've been at home all evening for the last 4 days, only yesterday, Friday, was completely clear and then I was just so washed out from work (an attempt to get away early failed) that tucking into this was not an option. I am doing so now instead of Christmas shopping or a plethora of other things that maybe I ought to do today. Oh well. Beetlebum has a scuzzy feel to it - appropriate for my low mood and layabout levels of success today - but largely washes over me without much in the way of serious consideration. It seems to me to be a bit of a strange choice to open the collection with - not particularly catchy, not a stand out for good or bad, and possessed of a long outro that makes it feel more like a closer. The polar opposite of the tight and punchy Song #2 in that regard. This is a Marmite track - not because you either love or hate it, but more specifically I can love or hate it depending on when I hear it. It suits certain emotions, situations and contexts better than others. Today's context is actually rather neutral.

We finally get to something a bit catchier; there is something about Albarn's vocal on There's No Other Way which validates the laziness I feel right now, and a reassurance about the riffy composition. I don't feel a strong connection to the track though, and I suspect this is going to be one of those really annoying posts where my dominant mood blunts interaction with the album I am consuming in any meaningful sense. Its as if I am more filling out an hour than really listening to this disc.

Overuse in adverts has not spoiled The Universal though. I never connected the tune, and thus those ads, with Blur at all at the time, because they never used the voice and I wasn't familiar with the song. OK, so Albarn's voice is kinda annoying on the chorus and the lyric leaves a lot to be desired but the core tune is so solid that it has a timeless quality to it, those iconic strings setting the whole thing up. I have been toying with the idea of another crappy project... some kind of micro-blog of all the plentiful bad ideas and stream of consciousness rubbish that my head fills up with when I am on my own - which is most of the time. I have an unquiet mind, and it drives me crazy. Sharing that madness with an uncaring world could release the pressure valve that generates such nonsense. Or not. Won't happen though - no smartphone so no access to post when my mind is at its worst - i.e. when trapped, solo, nothing doing.

I am not feeling this at all. Coffee & TV slides by like traffic outside behind a closed curtain - I am aware it is there but only dimly so. I think I don't like the song, and the occasional use of discordant sounds or effects make it worse. Be gone! Parklife slides past too, which is a more reliable barometer of my engagement level. This is another Marmite tune. I appreciate its attempt at peppiness - the clean snap and hard edges to the riffs give it a liveliness that is welcomed, but beyond that... not today.

I do dislike winter; its not been cold yet this year but the wind has been so constant, rattling around in the chimney, and the whole getting dark mid-afternoon thing is interminable. Its not a time of year I want to have to go out and traipse around shops as we are expected to do in the run up to Christmas. This year my mind and energy levels are balking even at the idea of online shopping. Bah humbug and all that. Working 2 more weeks yet; it all feels a fair way away still. I don't recognise No Distance Left to Run at all, but I like its rather downbeat air, subdued, more in tune with how I feel right now. Its down, but there is brightness there in spots - very high, very soft, keyboards giving nice clean tones. It is just enough of a sprinkle of optimism to stop the lead weights pulling it down.

Tender is... I am not sure it is likely to survive the day. It is a mix of a nice cadence with a tuneful, if muted, singing, and horrible harmonies, really annoying lines and alternate vocalists. Listening now, the tune just does not work. When Damon is singing on his own in the verse, there's a nice little semi-country feel to the music, the rest of the time there is some presence or other that sets my teeth on edge. Oh, and then there is the fact it goes on for 7 minutes 40 seconds, slowly spinning round between the shorter pleasantries and the longer stretches of needling. I don't think I can put up with that again. And that, (absent) ladies and gentleman is only half way.

I am grateful for the staccato and electronic sounds of Girls & Boys mixing things up. It is a complete palette cleanser after the tedium of Tender. Its not a song to hang much cogent discussion on (though to be honest the paras above probably prove I am not up to cogent discussion!), and you can definitely criticise it for its uniformity and lack of change up once it establishes itself, but in the context of the rest of the album, it's a really well placed number, stirring this listener, ending in good time and giving way to a tune that I completely fail to recognise until the words hit my ear. I think I generally prefer Blur when they inject some kind of catchiness, which here is provided by the nah-nah-nahs and the bass hammering note after note.

I didn't recognise She's So High at all, passed me by. Country House next, its not a good song but it has that catchy rhythm which makes it far more engaging than several better tracks and I find myself enjoying its breeziness up until the point that they inject a slow sad sound in the middle of it. That passes quickly but the mindless magic has been punctured by the abrupt nature of the switch in tempo and mood and I find myself wishing it over before it finishes. The final quarter of this disc is made up of track titles I don't know, but unsurprisingly To The End is more familiar once it starts, if only in the chorus. I like the more open sound of this track, the greater arrangement - with the core band part being relatively small or simple, though the drums get a bit too repetitive for my liking. The soaring strings my favourite touch, though Albarn's more open singing helps too. Ah yeah. Should have recognised On Your Own as a title - never mind. No, this one I don't like, maybe I had blanked it. Rhyming psycho killer and gorilla sums it up. Oddball. I don't see anything in this.

I feel like I should be near the end, but the last three tracks are all over 5 minutes long so there's almost half an album to go by the measure of some recent listens. The first of those three is a distant song - music seeming much closer to the ear than vocal. It feels muted or matured somehow, more rounded. I rather like the way the zenith points seem to have the guitars rebelling against that maturity rather than working within it, making their mournful cries heard and carrying more weight for it. The song rather peters out, which is a shame but it was a nice little surprise for me. Whilst I did not recognise This is a Low even after it started, I do recall For Tomorrow now I hear it. I don't think much of it as it seems to be caught between two (or even three) stools. Catchiness, poppiness, and the rounder more mature sound. There are bits and bobs from these three approaches sprinkled over this track and it manages to satisfy none of the aims. The la-la-las in the chorus feel out of place in the open arrangement, likewise the Madness-esque trumpets are a giant WTF in context. Its a mess, really. I'm sure people that very much enjoy Blur can find more to like amidst the different elements here but for me? Trying too much, managing nothing, overstaying its welcome.

The last track starts really... well, contrary to any expectations I had. This is not one I was ever familiar with and it sounds like it has rocked up here from another album and another band. It develops nicely though, an underlying groove that I can appreciate. And just as I type that it gets interrupted by what sounds like a long loud fart. Like Country House earlier, this sudden intrusion breaks any sense of connection to the track and snaps me out of the groove. Now I hear it from the outside it doesn't feel like it has enough craft to draw me back in... until I suddenly am recaptured by a pivot point. This is a really frustrating track and it will have to go... too much mediocrity built around a couple of very solid patterns. I don't like being sucked in and spat out; I'd prefer to be kept at arms length throughout, able to appreciate it from outside, than constantly be readjusting my position on something like this.

As the surprise wears off, and the silence (laptop fan background noise) returns as the dominant sound in my ears I find myself feeling... not a lot. There are some tracks on here that I really like, there were a few I really didn't, and a bunch that I recognise mostly as the background sounds to my teenage years - no strong feelings. It's alright, I guess, but Albarn has done much better since.

All You Good Good People E.P. - Embrace

Track List:

1. All You Good Good People
2. You Don't Amount To Anything - This Time
3. The Way I Do
4. Free Ride

Running time: 16 minutes
Released: 1997

Ah, Embrace. To me, they were the palatable part of Britpop for a short while. I hated Oasis, thought Blur were poseurs (I have come around a bit on this, since realising Albarn's talent) and could not stand The Verve or the 101 other derivative incarnations of that movement. 

However this single hooked me, though if I remember rightly I had already liked The Last Gas and taped it off the radio. Onto cassette and everything. I can still hear All You Good Good People in my head, and The Way I Do and Free Ride bring to mind memories of lovelorn youthfulness. The other track here has no place in my memory. I liked this enough to buy the album The Good Will Out when it followed.

I suspect I will not be so quick to praise this time, however the opening chords of the single are still very pleasant. The vocal/lyric is less interesting but there is a wider arrangement or orchestration on this song that softens the edge of whining northern bleakness that I always felt followed some of the other Britpoppers around like a bad smell. That said the vocal really obscures the arrangement in places, which is a shame because the big sound is quite effective otherwise, even if the song should really end at the 4:30 mark where the first swell concludes. Instead we get a minute and a half of pointless extension with no further verse or chorus and a lead out that does not add anything or substantially change the tone. Wasted space.

You Don't Amount to Anything - This Time is... ugh. Bad piano is bad, bad vocal is worse. This is car crash stuff, complete with self-indulgent cat-strangled guitar. The Way I Do is pretty bad, too. Not a  poor man's Lennon, a destitute man's Lennon. I think I was probably too unaware to notice the mimicry at the time, but now it is so blindingly obvious and painful to sit through. And I say this as someone who is not a fan of The Beatles or Lennon in particular. Unless Free Ride is a stormer, this whole disc goes bye-bye as, I have the title track elsewhere and that is sufficiently a) OK and b) nostalgic that I would keep it.

Free Ride, then... the piano is tinny. I think it must have been recorded on an electric keyboard... or maybe my ears have gone. Probably the latter, alas. It is a bleak song and the lyric is pretty asinine but I cannot help but like the melody and the tone is reasonable.  It is a keeper, but barely; the sort of tune I do not mind popping up 1 in 15000 or so but would never go out of my way to listen to again. Actually - that sentence right there is reason enough to get rid of it. Off with it's head!

100th Window - Massive Attack

Track List:

1. Future Proof
2. What Your Soul Sings
3. Everywhen
4. Special Cases
5. Butterfly Caught
6. A Prayer for England
7. Small Time Shot Away
8. Name Taken
9. Antistar

Running time: 73 minutes
Released: 2003

I've been away a bit, not jacked the project in quite so soon. Back from a 5 day jaunt to Scandiwegia to see an old friend and the 4 kids they have had since we last met. Squeezing this in before I am off away again - this time to my niece's 4th birthday party. Life is busy sometimes, just not often.

Everyone (pretty much) thinks Massive Attack peaked with Mezzanine. They are probably all right.* Seeing them play Bristol Student Union just after that album was released is still a highlight, 16 years on.

My memory tells me that there are good songs on 100th Window, which was what followed, but also some weaker material. And the 19 minute length of Antistar reminds me of hidden track nonsense.

Future Proof confirms that initial thought - I have always liked this track. It is dark and brooding, good mood music for an urban or cyberpunk RPG session, with the electronic clicks reminiscent of background static in a slightly frantic percussive manner. The light airy vocal, disconnected from the ominous track enforces that sense of unease; it works for me. We then move on to the first of 3 tracks voiced by Sinéad O'Connor.  I think that, at the time, I did not realise all 3 tracks with female vocals were O'Connor - not sure why. I certainly did not realise at the time that Damon Albarn (credited as 2D from Gorillaz) was involved, but back then I thought Blur were shite and nothing of Albarn as an artist. Times change us. I am not fond of What Your Soul Sings, I just find it really bland - lyrically, vocally, musically, it is just dull. It is also too long, but that makes it feel such a relief when it gives way to Everywhen. I fell in love with Horace Andy's vocals the first time I heard him on a Massive Attack record (probably One Love or Hymn of the Big Wheel from Blue Lines), and picked up some collections of his reggae recordings later on, to find that several Massive Attack songs with him doing a new vocal are pretty much re-recordings. I do not think Everywhen is in that category, but I could be wrong. It plays a bit like a less urgent Future Proof, with an unsettling, dangerous air, a floaty voice and relatively clean sound in place of the more chaotic opener. I would say it is a slightly more hopeful track, but it is hope stemming from darkness all the same, and a rich darkness at that. It is probably the best track on this album for my money, and my instinct is that 100th Window's bolt is now shot.

Special Cases is more O'Connor; it is less dull than What Your Soul Sings and there is much more going on but I still cannot find any love for it. The doomy theme continues, which makes it powerful background sound, but for actually listening to? No thanks. I do not own any Sinéad O'Connor records and do not find her voice doing anything for me, though I do think A Prayer for England utilises her better (or perhaps it is just a better song). As Butterfly Caught starts, I find myself not recognising it which is slightly disturbing, and the first of what I guess will be many such experiences of going "oh, that's not what I thought it was" for this project. Not knowing stuff before I get to it is one thing, but not recognising something I thought I knew is different, unsettling. Like this track (which I recognise once more once the vocal comes in). An edginess and paranoia flow from my speakers, quite at odds with the brightness of the day outside. It is midmorning on a Friday - not the ideal time to immerse oneself in the themes of this record.

My time in Brizzle was right at the tail end of the Bristol sound ("don't call it Trip-Hop") era. Mezzanine was just out and was the end of that era of Massive Attack, Portishead had gone on their long break etc. I also lived in very different parts of the city to those that spawned the edginess. Still, I feel a degree of affinity to the place and the music it spawned even now, when it is a part of my life that is fading in memory - contacts lost, friends rarely seen etc. Listening to these bands brings back those thoughts.

Yeah - A Prayer For England is just a better song. There is purpose in the driving bass, menace even. That links with the urgency of the vocal and the lyrics and the slightly shorter length to produce a much more compelling listen. There is almost a relief when it gives way to the more chilled Small Time Shot Away; chilled, but still dark. More cyberpunk mood music. Albarn's backing vocal is so indistinct that I miss it even knowing it is there now - I mean, it is audible in places, but hard to tell who it is. The last 30 seconds of the track are really weak... continuation for continuation's sake and I am definitely relieved when Name Taken starts. It is another slow dark menace sound, rather than urgent dark menace (this album only has two flavours). Andy is back, again floating over the music angelically, reinforcing him being up there as one of my favourite male vocalists of all time - along with the sadly missed Terry Callier - who, of course, provided the vocal on Massive Attack's Live With Me (along with Paradise Circus from Heligoland, which was used as the theme for the BBC's Luther, the only great tracks Massive Attack produced since Teardrop). I am certainly struggling to find too many other names to challenge those two on a purely vocal level.

Ah, now we're into the dregs. Antistar just started and I cannot find much to like in its opening refrains. Calling the bolt shot after Everywhen was harsh as although the middle of the album is not superb it generally retains a level of interest and is certainly keeping a consistent theme which makes the album as a whole a very attractive keeper. The vocal mellows Antistar a bit, but not enough to make it a good listen; the menace is still there though and I realise that for proper mood music I would want to dump the vocal anyway as it would be a distraction. Too bad.

Right, now to see about this secret track bullshit. It actually starts fairly promptly - which is good - but as I recalled it is just a loopy, oscillating, bassy sound which lasts far too long. It ceases to be interesting almost as soon as it starts and... zzz

* If anything, it was earlier.