Flash cars, fast life, and horses in the passenger seat paints quite the picture for Chemical World. It is the out-there imagery of a single trying to tie itself to both the quaint charms of idyllic, post-war British life and test the waters of those hippie-like statements which countered the norms. Blur were the best of both. They harangued both stifled, suit-wearing tradition and the looser perceptions of the pressing issues of the times. Chemical World is a fine balance and remains an effective, charming single from the four-piece. Modern Life is Rubbish is all the better for its inclusion. One of their strongest, pre-Parklife singles, that is for certain. It captures the essence of an early period, a break from the Madchester and Leisure sound they had tried to fit in with. Blur breaks from it by heading for the other end of the scene spectrum and comes through with a roaring instrumental, floaty lyrical suggestions and still a tension at heart.
Heavy instrumentals, the brief pause and respite from those guitar tones led by Graham Coxon, it all comes together well for Chemical World. There is still the fuzz and warmth of their Leisure sound, but it is contrasted by the haunting, real-world trouble. Worries of paying the rent, of trying to get to sleep as your world crashes in, remain relevant. Blur manages to find a route through the harshness of the blistering troubles of the country at hand, discarding this idea of pop, fun-loving experiences. A wonderfully mature song from Blur here, with much of its charm coming from the contrast between those wonderfully indie-like instrumentals and the harshness of Damon Albarn’s lyrical subject. Isolation, desperation, it happens to the protagonist, be it in the city or the country. There is no respite but the music, and that is the triumph Chemical World provides.
Putting the holes in only sounds as triumphant and terrifying as the instrumentals surrounding it allows. Dave Rowntree and Alex James tie the percussion and rhythm together wonderfully, a solid bed as ever for Blur to leap into the real world with. Coxon’s guitar riffs, buried in the mix somewhat, fight for attention and get their fair share. Albarn, too, with the repetition of “until you can see right through,” brings on one of the more tender, brutal-sounding Blur songs of the time. Considering they traded these rent-paying woes for dog track jingoism and satirical licks at the working class on their follow-up album, perhaps Chemical World is, with hindsight, the superior cultural commentary.
Joined by live versions of Never Clever, Pressure on Julian, and Come Together, seemingly from their Glastonbury 1992 set, only doubles down on the instrumental credibility of the band. A must-listen single which fares far better than the catchier songs to follow. Chemical World has the heartfelt earnestness which would reappear on efforts like The Ballad of Darren. Not an introspective piece, but a comment on the world around Blur and how it informs them. They took it to the extreme and back, and with the harsher sound on their live versions, it is fascinating to hear where Chemical World could have gone. They managed to get it, and the rest of their songs, there with those Wembley shows, but Chemical World’s wonderful B-sides get to grips with brilliant Blur live experience.
