Damon Albarn

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Damon Albarn Page 13

by Martin Roach


  Obviously Blur were delighted. Dave misleadingly said, “I never had the slightest doubt that we were gonna get to No.1” and Damon said, “These are great times, anything’s possible. Do Blur deserve it? Of course we do.” The truth is there was great relief in the Blur camp. Parklife had been such a huge success that it needed something on this scale to upstage its memory. It needed this media overkill and fictitious battle to supersede the previous album and prepare for the next long player. Graham was relieved but still unhappy, he hated the tackiness of the video and left the band’s own celebration party early (he didn’t even attend the EMI party for his group). Blur were graceful in victory, with Alex wearing an Oasis T-shirt for their triumphant Top of the Pops appearance, of which he told NME, “It was a magnanimous gesture. I think that they are a great band and that this is the defining moment of Britpop. It’s not Blur vs Oasis, it’s Blur and Oasis vs the world.” For this performance, Dave had other issues on his mind, namely Prince’s claim that he was a ‘slave’ to Warner Brothers (after all, he was only worth $100 million). Dave painted his first name on his cheek in mockery and said: “I was considering writing ‘wanka’ on my face but it wouldn’t fit. I have changed my name to the Drummer Formally Known As Dave. I did it because Karen at the record company told me to. Me and Prince have got a lot in common – EMI won’t release my solo album either.”

  The media scam that the battle had become was highlighted by the lack of animosity between rival fans and the fact that many people bought both singles. Whether it was a scam or not is irrelevant – everyone won, the bands, the press, the record shops, the record companies, it was a very positive event, however superficial. And in a year dominated by the pop anti-christs of Robson & Jerome, few would argue.

  Noel Gallagher was devastated he hadn’t achieved his long time ambition of beating his hero Paul Weller’s record of four No.1 singles. The Oasis camp claimed they had experienced bar code problems, leaving thousands of sales unregistered – this smelt of sour grapes, but Oasis would not be down for long. With Blur now reigning apparently unchallenged at the top of the charts, many observers felt they could now go on to even greater success by winning the album war, whilst Oasis’ more one dimensional guitar pop would suffer badly from having lost. They could not have been more wrong.

  * * *

  “The best record you can make is recorded on Monday, cut on Tuesday, pressed on Wednesday, packaged on Thursday, distributed on Friday and in the shops on Saturday.” So said John Lennon, and it was this ultimate punk ethic that was used for the War Child charity album, Help, released in early September. Blur joined the likes of Paul McCartney, Oasis, Paul Weller, Radiohead and Suede to contribute to the album for the Bosnian appeal to raise funds for medical supplies, food and social help for the children of the conflict. Blur’s contribution was recorded during tour dates in Milan, and was originally titled ‘I Hope You Find Your Suburbs’ but later changed to ‘Eine Kleine Lift Muzak’. The album sold massively but because of ludicrous rules concerning compilation records, it was refused a position in the main album chart.

  At this point, Blur were busy preparing for the release of the new album. They played the Feile festival in Cork, coming on after The Beautiful South and M People, an impressive indication of their ever-growing status.The Oasis war of words also accelerated in advance of their two respective album releases. Liam claimed that he thought Justine actually fancied a bit of rough with him, and that he was setting out to get her, although Justine seemed to disagree. Unfortunately, the whole rivalry reached a pitiful nadir when Noel told The Observer magazine that he hoped “Alex and Damon caught AIDS and died.” Outrage and anger ensued, and Andy Ross of Food Records said, “This is supposed to be the clever one talking.” Eventually Noel was forced to write an apology, in which he said “Although not being a fan of their music, I wish both Damon and Alex a long and healthy life.” Some said that on top of the singles defeat, this comment would maybe kill Oasis, in the same way The Happy Mondays homophobic comments in their heyday had hastened their own demise. For Damon, the situation was out of hand, as he told Melody Maker, “When the whole thing started with them, it was quite fun. Prior to the whole thing we got on quite well, there was the sense that things were going great for both bands. Now the whole war of words has just left me sad, it just got so ugly.” The media would not let go, however, and continued to bait both bands, even though the personal venom between them had already dissipated. Ric Blaxill of Top of the Pops gave a telling insight into the Oasis/Blur war when they both appeared on his show in early 1996: “One of the finest recent performances on the show was Blur’s ‘Stereotypes’, just before Oasis went onstage for their two numbers. For the whole song Liam was dancing along in the crowd, he was really enjoying himself. Afterwards in the bar he and Damon were chatting away merrily, they certainly weren’t going at each others’ throats. Both bands seemed to get on very well.”

  Chapter 11

  BEST DAYS

  The pressure to follow up a key album like Parklife would have stifled and even snuffed out some bands – The Stone Roses being the prime 1990s example – but Blur were completing the writing of their new set whilst Parklife was still riding high in the charts. Once again, Stephen Street was in the producer’s chair. Proudly, yet with typical immodesty, Damon said this of Street and his work: “In him, you have The Smiths and Blur and as far as I am concerned that’s the 1980s and 1990s taken care of.” Street himself was not surprised the record was done so quickly again, but in Melody Maker modestly played down his part in the process: “They give you so much good material in the first place, you’d have to be a complete moron to bugger up the production on a Blur album.”

  With the release of Blur’s fourth album, The Great Escape, which completed the trilogy of records on this theme, it seemed that the world would now be at their feet. Eventually the proposed title of Sex Life had to make way for The Great Escape, as the band could not think of a better title with the word ‘life’ in it. Structurally and musically it was another superb record, despite the popular misconception that it was only a modest commercial success and despite Damon’s later public distaste and disregard for it.

  Released on September 11, 1995, The Great Escape was a highly detailed, multi-faceted album which took a more cosmopolitan angle on the odd, suburban dystopia of the previous two records. Unlike the dog track stylings of Parklife’s artwork, the band were now cast as young City types on the make, plotting their fortunes with an eye on the exit to a quieter life. Musically, the record was Graham’s masterpiece and Street loudly declared him to be on a par with Johnny Marr. Apart from using five guitars on the record, Graham also played baritone saxophone, soprano sax, banjo, acoustic guitar and contributed many backing vocals. He swayed from the insistent, XTC-esque stabs that opened ‘Stereotypes’ to the punk pop of ‘Charmless Man’ or the aggressive ‘Globe Alone’, and the string backing for the elegant ‘The Universal’. Even on ‘Country House’, which was superficially a straight-forward pop song (albeit one tainted by the Blur vs Oasis battle), Graham’s dexterous textures gave the track great depth and colour. Perhaps most fascinating was his ability to do so with minimalist simplicity, making what he missed out as important as what he put in. Alex’s bass was impressive too – his odd, lazy rhythms were highly visible on ‘Fade Away’, ‘Country House’ and perhaps best on ‘It Could Be You’. Alex also championed the beautiful ‘The Universal’ which had been around at the time of Parklife, in a poor reggae/calypso form, but now reappeared as a lush, sad ode. Dave proved to be a living metronome again, with faster rolls, more dynamics and more variation than on previous Blur records. This was vital since the sonic variety and sheer detail of the record demanded a rigid and absolutely perfect rhythm section.

  The Great Escape was chock full of odd sounds, taking it way beyond the range of traditional pop. ‘Ernold Same’ featured future Mayor of London Ken Livingstone – then merely a Member of Parliament – droning on about the
rat race, with noises from the Goldhawk Road and the local swimming baths doubling up as a train station. Odd whirling organs flew all across the record, with special note on ‘Stereotypes’ and ‘Mr Robinson’s Quango’. ‘Fade Away’ was eerie and melancholic with downbeat trombones creating the weariness of a dying marriage. ‘He Thought Of Cars’, although rather cluttered, is a sad and desperate tale filled with painful guitars and quirky organs. ‘Top Man’ has comically deep backing vocals mixed with happy whistling, whilst ‘Best Days’ has contrasting android backing vocals. On ‘Yuko And Hiro’ the Casiotones and muzak instruments take over completely, with this electronic lament full of fizzy space sounds. Generally, this was a more programmed album than any previous work by Blur, and the musical textures far surpassed even the broad palette of Parklife.

  The influences were still there. The Specials were clearly important to ‘Fade Away’ and Damon readily admitted that ‘Top Man’ was a direct result of his recent writing work with Terry Hall. Madness were still visible in the piano use, and The Style Council’s ‘Life At A Top People’s Health Farm’ mirrored ‘Country House’. The sonic experimentation reminded the listener more of Sparks, Wire, Brian Eno, Kraftwerk and the aforementioned XTC rather than The Kinks or The Small Faces; it was all far more electronic than Davies, Weller, Marriott et al could ever be. Generally, this was a far less derivative record than its predecessor, with the Blur sound now being something established in its own right, without the need to refer elsewhere.

  The ‘Stereotypes’ and ‘Country House’ tracks were misleading in that they were typical Blur-by-numbers – ‘Country House’ was, thankfully, the only concession to the knees-up mentality that had featured so heavily on Parklife. Elsewhere they were producing music that had hardly been hinted at before, even so late as Parklife. Blur’s minute attention to detail throughout the record layered tune upon tune and these multi-dimensions demanded the most from Damon (and Graham’s) long-established composition skills. Somehow, they managed to keep the complex mass of ideas simple and direct.

  Lyrically, many tracks pursued Damon’s characteristic third person voyeurism. Most of the lyrics were written on the roof top balcony of the house in west London he shared with Justine, and with the pressure of Parklife, he found this task harder than any other on the album project. The new characters were similarly disenchanted types, but more sexually active and deviant than on Parklife. ‘Mr Robinson’s Quango’ was a tragi-comedy about a council worker who dressed in stockings and suspenders under his suit, inspired by a graffiti confession Damon once read on a train station toilet door. ‘Stereotypes’ hailed the pleasures of wife-swapping and ‘Entertain Me’ (originally titled ‘Bored Wives’) details a bored middle-aged man looking for relief by flagellation. ‘Yuko And Hiro’ tells of an over-worked Japanese employee struggling to control his life and dreaming about the girlfriend he never sees (a thinly veiled autobiographical song as Damon and Justine only saw each other for three weeks in 1995; they even split up temporarily over the Christmas period). There’s little doubt that ‘Country House’ was about Dave Balfe, the ex-Food Records partner who had since sold Food to EMI. Elsewhere there was talk of pointless marriages, friendless spongers, Prozac addicted executives, the futility of the Lottery, boy racers, and even a character called Dan Abnormal. This was an anagram of Damon Albarn which Justine had thought of to poke fun at her boyfriend, and he used it in a vaguely self-mocking wander around the dull shopping arcades of life. There was also a focus outside of just Britain – from the country houses of rural England to the factories of Japan, this was Blur looking further afield. Even so, the characters were still desperate to make their own great escape, from the boredom, the mundanity and the dissatisfaction of life.

  Damon was still singing in his Thames Estuary vowels, but on ‘The Universal’ he showed that his voice was now genuinely capable of sublime ballads, singing from his boots with an Anthony Newley air. Elsewhere, his accent was occasionally a little strained but, in the context of the subject matter, oddly fitting.

  It was a complex, sumptuously layered and sonically complicated album, frequently eclectic, quirky, odd, queer, harsh and strange. It was also Blur’s most accomplished album so far, including Parklife. Damon himself told Mojo: “We’ve always seen ourselves as putting on white coats and going into the lab,” when he spoke of the attitude to recording the album. And it showed. He also spoke of their motivations to work harder when he told NME, “The pressures were strange. I’ve never had that thing about fame and making money. I just wanted to make something that I thought was good because I knew the attention this album would get.”

  Admittedly, The Great Escape is far less immediate than Parklife. Indeed, many people found it too hard listening, too labyrinthine, too complicated. However, that was its beauty. Where Parklife had opted for easier targets, the cheap laughs of the sing-alongs, pub stomps, pure pop and softer instrumentation, The Great Escape was musically far more ambitious. It reached for weirder sounds and textures and repeatedly sacrificed the obvious for the unusual. It was not crammed with hit singles granted, but that should never be the sole criteria for a classic album. In the context of following up Parklife, Blur should defy any of their peers to better The Great Escape. Stephen Street told Music Week, ‘It is a step on from Parklife, but it won’t alienate anybody who got into Blur with it. It’s a bit darker but I think that’s the only way for us to go.’ Johnny Cigarettes in NME was more direct: ‘We can only demand a masterpiece, and they’ve damn near delivered it.’ Now all that remained was to see if the public agreed.

  * * *

  Initially, the response to the release was superb – the album went straight in at No.1 in the charts in the UK, and also in Iceland and Hong Kong, whilst across Europe it achieved Top 5 spots in most territories. By the end of October, less than two months after release, it had already passed one million sales worldwide. Reviews in the UK were generally very strong and platinum status was earned by the third week of October. When Blur announced a seaside tour of unusual venues, followed by their biggest ever arena tour, all tickets were sold out in hours.

  With typical Blur panache, they performed two promotional events in the two weeks after the album release that just reinforced the void between the linear style of so many of their contemporaries and their own colourful approach. Firstly, on September 15, they played on top of the roof of the HMV shop in Oxford Street in London. Accompanied by a four-man brass section, Blur played for twenty minutes whilst huge crowds gathered below, mimicking the last time this had happened for Echo & The Bunnymen in the mid-1980s. At one point Damon dangled the microphone down to the crowd to sing along, then he later risked death by skipping along the edge of the roof, whilst his record company bosses went into apoplexy below. Five tracks from the new album were played, then the spectacle finished off with ‘Parklife’.

  The second clever event was to play a live daytime Radio 1 show at BBC Broadcasting House, prestigious treatment not even afforded to The Smiths or The Stone Roses. To a hall filled largely with journalists, Blur played a blistering set from the album, then once off-air launched into a punk rock set that ruffled a few of the mainstream feathers in attendance. Both these events were typical of the style with which Blur promoted themselves during this period – the live radio, the unexpected secret shows, the forthcoming seaside dates, the ‘Country House For Sale’ boards, even their band logo and adverts (a map of the East End for their Mile End show) had a style and creativity that others lacked.

  The success continued when the second single from the album, ‘The Universal’ was released in November to coincide with the various live dates – it was considered to be a genuine contender for Christmas No.1, especially with the two new songs ‘Ultranol’ and ‘In Me’ included. The festive top spot eventually went to Michael Jackson’s ‘Earth Song’, with Mike Flowers Pops cover of Oasis’s ‘Wonderwall’ a close second, and ‘The Universal’ reaching No.5. Blur’s superb ballad was accompanied by a s
inister Clockwork Orange video that went some way to banishing the growing embarrassment felt at the cleavage-heavy ‘Country House’ promo, which was now seen as a mistake. The reservations would eventually run much deeper. History, those around the band and even Damon himself, would not be kind to The Great Escape. Damon would even later use the album as an example of how not to do it and even his other half would be damning about it, seeing it as a signal to all concerned with the scene that things had to change. “In a musical sense, it seemed like all the good intentions had gone awry, very quickly.” Justine Frischmann told The Observer when asked about the period some seven years later. “I thought [it] was a really, truly awful album – so cheesy, like a parody of Parklife, but without the balls or the intellect.”

  For now, however, all seemed well. Blur continued their British fascination by playing a small tour of eight run-down coastal venues that hadn’t been used on this level since the bingo heydays of the 1950s. The gigs included in this supposedly low-key (less than 1000) series of shows included Pier 39 in Cleethorpes, Eastbourne Floral Hall and Great Yarmouth Ocean Rooms. The idea was to offer an intimate and highly unusual show for the fans whilst providing Blur with an excellent warm-up for their forthcoming nationwide arena tour. Starting in Cleethorpes, the tour made its way around the coastline, cramming creaking old venues to bulging point with great success. The frequently poor sound systems didn’t seem to affect the celebratory atmosphere at these shows, and the horn section and additional keyboard player augmented Blur’s sound still further.

 

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