Blur – The Universal Review

All bands hit the end of their road. A bump along the way was the blowout of Britpop as a pop culture entity. This strange couple of years to be poked, prodded and plastered on the front page. The Great Escape has not quite ascended the fight, though nor has its single, Country House. The Universal has, however, and it is through either British Gas adverts or their play on A Clockwork Orange. A charming stadium show closer both now and then. Thirty years on from its initial release, two on from some life-changing memories in Wembley Stadium, and The Universal has not lost its heartfelt core. Its sense of joy in the face of a new century, in the wake of fresh ideas and unsure futures. There is a remit of positivity flowing through The Universal and its B-Sides, a sign of the times and a hint at longevity.  

Memorable guitar work is the trick here – the constant sway of it and the inevitable rise towards the end hold onto this escapism. Where The Great Escape may have been a swell of understanding on how to sever a relationship with the real world, be it perverse like Country House or arrogantly numb like Stereotypes, The Universal stands as the band’s most hopeful. They tap into the whimsical style which Modern Life is Rubbish and Parklife had, the former in bucketloads and the latter with a tainted taste to the view of the world. Blur began to harden and though The Great Escape may be viewed as one of their lesser moments, there is a hopeful core to it which evaporated on future releases. The band and their love of Stanley Kubrick can be felt not just in the video, not just the 2001: A Space Odyssey-like cover, but in the core of the song. Happiness as a drug, the excesses of social occasions and what we do to give ourselves a fighting chance of satisfaction.  

The Universal is Blur’s best shot at happiness despite the horrors. Lighter charms like Ultranol hold onto nostalgia, not as a joy to dip back into but as a cage to break from. Graham Coxon is the charm on a song like this, the punchy and constant guitar riff with a few experimental additions slipped in there. Blur was a band charmed by the whimsy and freedom of carnival rides, of old Britain, and they can be heard slowly rejecting it here. Harsher tones on No Monsters in Me is a suggestion of where the band were headed, their self-titled follow-up such a sharp change of tone to the lighter hopes of The Universal. Such is life, and the impact both personal and political on the band takes its toll between releases, and B-Sides like No Monsters in Me are a phenomenal way to chart this change.  

Like any self-respecting band of the 1990s, a remix is featured, too. Noel Gallagher and Jarvis Cocker still put those on their solo works and they sound as dated as Entertain Me (The Live It Remix). Still quite a fun track even with its dated club scene sound. The Universal stands as one of the high points of Blur’s lengthy history, a peak which may never be toppled. A hope for the future which disintegrated along with the rest of their genre allies of the time later suggested a shift nobody was expecting. The Universal still stands as a hopeful break from an Aldous Huxley-like dystopia, where satisfaction and the ease of access to slop-like entertainment is our undoing. It stands even now as a warning, and the vacant attempt at making the blues go away, as heard on Entertain Me is just as strong a warning.