Between two Blur reunions and the formation of The Waeve, arguably the most interesting thing to happen to saxophone-featuring art-rock since Van Der Graaf Generator, Graham Coxon has been a busy man. No wonder he shelved Castle Park, an album recorded in 2011 and now set for release this summer. Billy Says, the first of ten songs and lead single to this would-be project, is a firm reminder of what Coxon can do in the studio. He’s a masterful guitar player – one of the best and most underrated around – and gets to showcase that on his solo works. This will be a particularly great test of how Coxon’s work can stand the test of time. He has proven so with Blur efforts and there is a timelessness to The Waeve that will age brilliantly in the years to come. What of his solo material, though? The Mod subculture has its claws in Coxon, and he wears it well on Billy Says.
Catchy instrumental work should be no surprise from Coxon, yet it’s always a nice addition. It’s never inevitable, even with the track record of the veteran guitarist’s work. Billy Says relies on that catchiness just as much as the lyrical choices. It all comes together as an of-the-times experience but doesn’t prey on nostalgia. A careful balance is brought about by Coxon here, whose work sounds like a clear follow-up to A+E, though over a decade and a half removed. Billy Says feels remarkably stronger than the mod scene, alternative indie sound that was released at the time Castle Park was recorded. No doubt a few touch-ups have been made between initial recording and release, but what Coxon has maintained within Billy Says is the spirit of that period of his creative output. A pre-Blur reunion tone which has a little in common with Modern Life is Rubbish. Floaty guitar work, nice little flourishes painting a slice of life worth hearing. Coxon has always maintained a charming lyrical output and Billy Says is no different.
Beating hearts backed by a collection of modern mod instrumentals is what this Castle Park lead single offers. A song about following your heart doesn’t have to explicitly state such an action, and Coxon does well to focus on the horrible outcome rather than the hopeful journey that comes in doing so. Billy Says may sound light and wistful, but an instrumental break where Coxon flexes his guitar skills is a nice push for that wasted time message. Who is in the wrong on this song is unknowable to some extent. Listeners may have found themselves on both sides of this situation, and Coxon writes in a way that doesn’t cast judgement, but does provide an evocative, emotionally charged message.
Instrumentally solid work is what he needs then, and what he issues on Billy Says. A nice and clinical guitar rock route is taken, no surprise there, it’s what Coxon does best. But what it means for the story unfolding in Billy Says is that a few lyrical risks can be taken. There’s a clear contrast between those “oh, oh’s” and “du du du” breaks when the paralysis of fear takes the protagonist, clearly aware of how their time is being flittered away. Billy Says will have many wonder why Coxon didn’t push for this to come out when he first recorded it, but better late than never. The Blur machine takes no prisoners, and Castle Park is finally, deservedly, seeing the light of day. Coxon issues a strong first track that showcases his nuance as a writer and his skill as a performer.
