With a ten-year anniversary not far off for The Magic Whip, returning to the Blur songs of their first reunion is a fascinating experience. Especially now, with The Ballad of Darren setting a new bar for post-reunion works from established bands, returning to the oft-forgotten works of The Magic Whip feels like a traipse through the past for the sake of nostalgia. Go Out is neither the best nor worst song from the Damon Albarn-fronted group. Part of that, perhaps, is how Go Out does not quite capture the lightning-in-a-bottle magic of the second Blur reunion. Those shows across the summer of 2023, when Pulp and Suede were pushing their sound further still, are monumental. They were also almost entirely devoid of The Magic Whip material. It is not because it was in the awkward spot between warm classics and contemporary material, but because the songs are simply not up to standard.
Not all of them, anyway. Go Out is a solid enough song which relies on the incredible instrumental scope Graham Coxon so often brings to the group. Whining guitars, raging and piercing as they always are, give Albarn the extra punch he needs on these short sentence-styled lyrics. Those short sentences are different to anything Blur had done before, and it makes all the difference. Returning to Go Out is a treat. Loneliness is not just the starting point for the nameless man and woman who make up the story, but it is also their defining characteristic by the end. Both seem satisfied, if not a bit winded by a what-if story. Coxon is in fine form, as he always is for the post-reunion album pair, but so too are Alex James and Dave Rowntree, the latter Blur member given a little bit more time in the spotlight on drums here.
Go Out may have a narrative thread and a new style of lyrical flavour from Albarn but it serves Coxon as a guitarist more than anything. Wailing tones, those louder-than-life moments which define his best songs. Coffee & TV had a solo with those higher-pitched pieces, the feedback and heavier sound Blur were so unsure of at the time they created it comes good once again on Go Out. Repeat listens open the song up that little bit more. Hang it up alongside The Ballad of Darren, and it becomes a post-Blur peak piece, a song which adapts to the loneliness and isolation not of being on the road as was usually the case, but being away from it. No wonder Albarn works himself to the bone.
There is a truth inherent to Go Out, a complete utterance of a fundamental part of nature. The lust and love heard in those short sentences, matching up to heartbeats, brings on a thrilling venture from the band. It may not stand out among their wider discography but it is certainly a highlight from The Magic Whip, an album which does not quite hit the Blur standard, though this may be thanks to the hindsight of their career-best album, which followed this one. Go Out maintains itself with charmed lyrical choices which would plant Albarn at the centre of this will-they, won’t-they experience. He opts for the latter and it makes the instrumental structure, particularly Coxon’s sleek guitar work, that much heavier.
