Reunions are part giving the fans what they want and part seeing if you still have it in you. For Blur, a tour was not enough the first time around. They capped off Glastonbury, Finsbury and all sorts of other major arenas across the globe back in 2012 and thought they needed something extra. Hence, The Magic Whip, their first studio album since the finality of Think Tank. There is reason to believe the frustration of these sessions, a near-discarded collection of recordings which made their way into the public through willpower alone it would seem. But for Damon Albarn, Graham Coxon, Dave Rowntree and Alex James, their touring efforts were far superior – and in turn, it deflates an already middle-of-the-road record.
Take opener Lonesome Street, their big and flash expectation of singles glory. It sounds about right for just about every other guitar band of the time. Even Albarn, with his questioning lyrics and consumerist putdowns, the fine line of walking well and throwing yourself to the sword, are interesting. But the instrumentals surrounding it sound hurried and twee. Light work from a band whose immediate works before and after were heavy, powerful and meaningful. Again hot flushes come through on New World Towers, slightly to the left of Asian-fused instrumentals but still trying to connect with the effective British charm Blur displayed in their heady days. By the time Go Out comes around and the same nullified riffs from Coxon are rolled out, it is nearly time to call it a day. Pray for something exciting beyond the interjections guitar hero Coxon makes for spotty vocals.
Some bitter taste is left in the mouth and it cannot be washed out with overall Blur low point Ice Cream Man. A misfire in every sense, from the plodding electronic beat to Albarn attempting to capture some semblance of the tongue-in-cheek novelties which steered Blur away from their spot at the top of the charts. It is fascinating what the nostalgic mind yearns for. In the case of Blur, it is simplicity. Reverb and echoed offerings on Thought I Was a Spaceman do well to recoup the inevitable losses staring at listeners. Eventually, Blur finds their footing – and more crucially their meaning. Jabs at commercialisation are all well and good but it does not come to life until the militant march of drums on There Are Too Many of Us. It flows well enough, but it is plain to see Blur are not working in sync with one another, everyone is given time to shine at the expense of another member being fully involved.
Ghost Ship follows suit – a nice enough track plagued by the absence of any real connection between the four whirring engines. The rotting likes of Pyongyang offer a new style for Blur. Unfortunately, it is a replicable period which can be adapted by the contemporaries who have now been flushed from relevancy. The Magic Whip does well to give Blur a breath of fresh air but it separates them so wholly from their impact, image and style it feels like a band of completely alien origin. Too many hands in the studio, too many heads in the clouds. There is nothing magical about The Magic Whip though Blur chance it and take to the likes of Ong Ong. At least there is a chance for some excitement, some wonder, on Mirrorball. Hard cheese. End of record. Next.
Well that review was full of crap and didn’t even mention “my terracotta heart” which is the best on the album. Pretty lazy to do an album review nearly 8 years after the release and miss x2 tracks and slag everything off. Regardless of how the album was formed which seems to be the reason for the very late and poor review instantly being on a downer, this is a very solid album with a lot of energy and an array of styles on show in many of the tracks and a display of fine songwriting and musicianship that isn’t at all out of place in the blur back catalogue especially for those wanting something that did sound quintessentially “blur” as apposed to “Think Tank” which was clearly missing and suffering from the absence of Coxon. It’s very easy eight years after the release to go back and trash it, the same way things that were mediocre either with nostalgia or some tragedy become revered in time for no obvious reason, this was seen as a great album to close the blur chapter that “Think Tank” could never do and although not blur at there absolute peak it is close to it and can stand respectably up against any title wether in blurs archive or anybody else’s, in no way is this a bad or disappointing album despite what this review wants you to believe.