One of their best even now, the longevity of Beetlebum comes from its overtly sexualised lyrics, a step well away from the upbeat consistencies of the Blur image people had come to know and love. This was not the cheeky semantics of Country House nor the talked down to Charmless Man but a new, enviously cool side of Blur which leaned into darker charms, grunge-like materials and the imitable tones of sexuality without curiosity. But Beetlebum holds the Britpop hangover detail, one Pulp would amplify with This is Hardcore and Suede would destroy with Head Music. Here were the rumbles of a genre coming apart, or rather an inconsistent way of collecting the big bands of the time. Blur hit out against it with their self-titled work and it all stems from Beetlebum, its proud place on the album stinging that little bit more.
Because it defined the genre it needed something special to pair with it. This was a time when B-Sides, for all they were dying out in the years to follow, were crucial releases for these bands. Blur holds its own with Beetlebum, a song as much about the loss of intimate sexuality as it is about the end of an era where it seemed impressive and fun. Damon Albarn writes as though going through the sexualised motions while the band are not best pleased either. It creates a moody atmosphere held up well by the album as a whole. Beetlebum is a great leaping point and one of the band’s best songs. Bold and braggadocious but without the heart needed to carry stories of sexual triumph over, it is a band burnt out by their past and hoping to mould themselves into something new down the line. Sleepier tones as part of the knock-on effects of heroin and a relationship breaking down, Beetlebum is a dark storm which still holds its powerful message.
As do the B-Sides accompanying its original release, All Your Life and A Spell (For Money). Graham Coxon is a storm on the self-titled album and Beetlebum figures out the best of his instrumental charm. But so too does All Your Life, a percussion-led traipse through a day in the life of the band. A tad too heavy to release as they fall through into the crowd and hope to disappear into the smoke, rather than continue as the friendly faces of a fashionable genre. They decry the teenage magazines and shopping centre experiences their fame brought them and hit out against it. It was not an “in” idea to rally against success but the all-too-frequent experience of those talented enough to reach the top. All Your Life tries to understand the fear of this high point with its David Bowie-like delivery while A Spell (For Money) breaches the instrumental charms.
An all-but-finished instrumental to close off the single release with a thud, rather than a chance to assess the tones taken by Beetlebum is a withered choice but does not steal from the impact of one of Blur’s best works. Sharp and powerful experiences guided their self-titled work, not least their booming lead single. Albarn lays it all out, as plain as he can and while it is his experience which guides Beetlebum it feels collective, the troubles of Coxon and fellow bandmates Dave Rowntree and Alex James are all there to hear too. It is a communal horror show and for those listening in without the benefit of context, you would think Blur has tried to be an edgy, Americanised display. But they were rejecting their past success for a reason. It is what got them to Beetlebum.
