Blur – Bugman Review

Their second song on 13 and one of the heavier sounds of their time in the studio, Bugman provides Blur a new noise. This new sound would inform Think Tank deep cuts, worth seeking out for those who want a slice of this noise and distortion rock Blur made at the turn of the 21st century. Those heavier times feel like a reaction to and continuation of the response and sound of their self-titled album. A second and failed attempt at cracking the United States hears Blur shuffle back to the United Kingdom, disoriented and disinterested in their heady days. Five years is a long time in the music business. Blur, while certainly still popular, were no longer the flavour of the month, nor were there contemporaries. Their permanent change can be documented here, and the band has never truly looked back.  

Perhaps it is the alienating sound The Great Escape provided, a noise which now, more than ever, feels completely disassociated from the real world. There is a lot to love about the removal from the times. Bugman is a stepping stone back into the real world, overwhelmed by studio filters and special effects. The ex-offender in question is not a literal crime but a knock at the hangers-on of a genre shift, which proved taxing on anyone who made it to the top. Bugman reflects on that well, and the only way to reflect truthfully, honestly, as this song does, is to take up arms for a different cause. Whining electronics and a groaning, roaring perspective are taken up on Bugman. Its volatility on the album is bookended by slower, moving cuts. Tender and Coffee & TV bookend the instrumental blowout, which also served as a single with an edge. Blur wanted to redefine themselves, and so they do.  

Even the B-sides offer little variety, not for the sake of pigeonholing the band but to make sure fans are clear with the direction Blur were headed. Graham Coxon and Alex James remix the song with middling results, but the aim of the theme is clear. There is much to love about Bugman, from the redefinition of what Blur would do to the sincerity of explosive instrumentals, the moment Coxon can finally break with some liberating, gratifying guitar work. Art rock and the rise of DJ culture sways the group, and those efforts from bassist James and guitarist Coxon are quite fun, if a bit light. They do well to rip a new route open for the song, with James’ reliance on his party animal fundamentals serving the remix well.  

Blur wanted a new challenge for their listeners and offer as much with Bugman. It remains quite unlike any of the other mainstream songs they have made since. There is a reflective twang to their modern outputs, something the likes of Me, White Noise would discard. A level of rage is needed to make the club tunes-like experiences heard on the 13 rips, and the remixes, though a little repetitive and changing little about the core of the song, are exciting pieces. Coxon provides more a focus on the vocal work from Albarn in the early moments before wailing away on his guitar. Something to prove? Certainly. The whole band had something to give when it came to Bugman, a solid single which stands tall, giving Blur a shove in a new, desperately needed direction.