Trouble In The Message Centre

When in 2007 some mysterious fellow named demodude leaked some 1993 Parklife demo’s onto the net, Blurfans were understandably excited. It had been a very long time since we had heard anything new. What the demo’s proved was that at the time the band knew exactly what they were doing. The released versions didn’t differ too much from the infant installments, and when they did they benefitted from the additional work, with the possible exception of Alex’s “Far Out”.

The biggest improvement was made on “Trouble In The Message Centre”, or “Trouble” as the working title appears to have been (at least, that’s how the track was tagged, and as there is no mention of centres, message or otherwise, in the original lyrics I’m assuming this to be a case of correct tagging). Most of the published version was already in place, but without the synths toying with the main melody and awkward lyrics about someone with no personality, the demo misses anything resembling a drive to grab a listener’s attention.

New lyrics were written around the 1993 holiday season, if Parklife’s booklet, where the words written on a hotel bill were reprinted (as was Kevin Godley’s phone number… he was in the running to produce the video for “Girls & Boys”, and had to change his number shortly after the release of Parklife). The lyrics are said to have been inspired by the keys on the hotel telephone, while the line about just striking it “softly away from the body” came from a book of matches next to the phone. The former is presumably true, but I doubt the latter statement due to the fact that said line was present in the demo version too, albeit far less effectively so.

However, as is often the case in Blur’s discography, it’s wordless vocals that make the song immediately catchy. Simple it may seem, but it’s harder to come up with an original and catchy la-la-sequence than the stream-of-consciousness rubbish or 6th form poetry that are too often confused with depth and poetry.

Strangely enough producer Stephen Street didn’t like this song. Maybe producing The Cranberries had affected his judgement a little. Just listening to their music for 2 minutes is like having a flock of dementors flying over at close range. One can onl imagine the horror of being holed up with them at Azkaban studio’s in Limerick for a few months

M.O.R.

When Vox Magazine reviewed Blur as the record began hitting the stores they noted that David Bowie’s sollicitors might want to listen to ”M.O.R.”, as the song had previously been employed as “Boys Keep Swinging”. Not long after, the song’s credits had the names of Bowie and Brian Eno added to them. Fair enough. The two songs do have a thing or two in common.

Lyrically, “M.O.R.” appears to deal with Blur’s career trajectory, while also being a statement of intent. Yes, their edge had been missing a bit in recent times, but this time around they’re taking no prisoners. Getting the popular vote doesn’t weigh up to artistic intents. “Fall into fashion, fall out again”, Damon sings before blatantly claiming that they “stick together, cos it never ends”. Really?

For the video four stuntmen would be wearing masks of the band’s faces while doing all sorts of dangerous shit on fast vehicles. Unfortunately, it turned out the masks looked nothing like any of the bandmembers and instead the stuntmen did their tricks with balaclava’s over their faces. We know they’re supposed to be the bandmembers because of the nifty anagrams we’ve been given at the start of the video: Morgan C Hoax, Lee Jaxsam, Trevor Dewane, and Dan Abnormal (of The Great Escape and Elastica fame).

Two different versions of the track were released for the UK and US singles, confusingly both called “Road Version”. The American one is the faster one used in the video, while the UK got something not too far removed from what was already on the album. It was, at number 15, the band’s lowest charting single in their home country since “End Of A Century” three years earlier, and wasn’t included on The Best Of (although a live version was on the not so limited edition’s CD2).

Tell Me Tell Me

Recorded when Blur were still called Seymour, “Tell Me Tell Me” is a trashy little number not a million miles removed from the (slightly) better known “Fried”. Loud, fast and about some chick with a chip on her shoulder, it can hardly be called a highlight in the band’s oeuvre, but is enjoyable all the same because of the abandon with which it’s performed. Particularly of note are the aiaiai’s and barking sounds that Damon produces to complement the sound of guitars being manhandled. It’s got more in common with what Blur would be working on in 1997 than the Madchesteresque sounds that were in the immediate future. This little curio was ultimately released in 1993 as one of “Sunday Sunday”’s many b-sides.

Country House

Back when I was still young and didn’t have a job I had to save up my pocket money to buy music. Three weeks saving would get me one album. One week’s allowance bought a single. I had just taken up the hobby of smoking cigarettes in abandoned buildings however, so not a lot of new records made my bedroom (this was the time when for the prize of one CD Single you could buy 3 cartons of Camel Lights… how times have changed). When “Country House” and “Roll With It” were released this caused some trouble. Which one should I buy first?

As I lived in Holland it wasn’t a case of supporting one band so they could get to Number 1 in the charts next week. Neither band would even dent the Top 40. I liked Blur better, but it wasn’t that easy. My sister’s two favourite bands were Take That and Blur. Buying “Roll With It” would annoy her no end. For any 16 year old boy enough reason to go up the hill backwards, so to speak.

Well, everybody knows that Blur’s single went to the top of the charts in their homecountry, and that Oasis had to take the silver medal. Then some other stuff happened, I’ll spare my dear reader the usual cliché’s, and these days Damon is an absolute genius, Graham a veritable solo artist, Alex an interesting and ever funny jack of all trades, Dave, ermmm, a very good Dave, and Oasis release the same record with some slight variations ad infinitum, while giving enough priceless interviews to justify their being around. Which makes the 14 August battle all the more silly.

But Christ, what glorious silliness! People taking sides, newsreports, the video’s on MTV every hour, a thousand other bands riding the waves made by the giants… a genuinely great time for music (and clothes!).

Hindsight has it that neither “Roll With It” nor “Country House” were much cop. Bollocks. The former has grown tired indeed, but Blur’s song is still an excellent popsong. It’s got everything, from pleasant verses to an excellent singalong chorus, a sad undercurrent that bursts into the foreground long enough to give the song genuine emotional weight, and a lyrical nod to “Morning Glory” that may or may not be a dig at Oasis (or Jamiroquai). Yes, it even has mystery.

Unfortunately, all members of the band with the exception of Alex seem to have disowned the song and its accompanying video, and its value has been in decline ever since. We, the people, in the spirit of Max Brod owe it to our children to preserve this monumental creation, and protect it from its creators.

Caramel

I know better than to take Alan McGee’s word for anything regarding music, but when he published a blog about Talk Talk’s Spirit of Eden in The Guardian a few weeks back I was sufficiently intruiged to get my hands on a copy. It arrived in the mail this Saturday and I haven’t listened to anything since.

Apart from the usual reactions (”whoa, what the fuck is this?”, “that’s the best use of feedback I’ve ever heard” and “is this the same guy that wrote that song that No Doubt covered?”), I couldn’t help but wonder if Blur had listened to the album before recording “Caramel”. It’s all there, from the song’s length to weird bursts of feedback, very effective use of dynamic range and vocals alternately mumbled and yelped.

It’s also happens to be one of 13’s best moments.

Out Of Time

Wow, it is already five years ago that one night I fell asleep on the couch and got woken up some hours after midnight by my girlfriend, “there’s a new Blur video on MTV! WAKE UP!”. I can’t have done too great a job at waking up, because I remember seeing this beautiful animated video, set on a ship or something. Not much later I bought the DVD version of the single, and couldn’t wait to see it again. I popped it into my DVD player and started watching. Except it wasn’t animated at all, but a documentary-like view of work on a warship.

It can’t have been a coincidence that the Iraq war that had been in the works began around the same time, and this added poignancy to the lyrics that could’ve been about any relationship spinning out of control. In fact, it’s now impossible to hear the song without placing it in the context of war, with the singer appealing to people’s love and dreams as the one and only way to “clear the clouds”. He isn’t blaming anyone, just pointing out that as people we’ve been so busy lately that we haven’t really stopped to think about what’s happening to the world. A world that, if we don’t start caring now, will have some serious trouble to endure in the near future.

Paradoxically, the video takes this wider perspective and then focusses back on the personal effects of this great big mess. A soldier stands on the ship’s deck and remembers her boyfriend, and sadly has to conclude that their time apart in these inhuman conditions has numbed them, and it seems unlikely they’ll ever get back together again.

Musically, this is the most graceful song in the band’s catalogue to be released as a single. It’s got a Moroccan orchestra doing beautiful slightly under-the-radar things, subtle drumming by Dave, a very prominent yet inconspicuous bassline by Alex, hardly noticeable guitars (Graham is rumoured to have helped out on the song despite him having left/been kicked out of the band before the song was recorded), and, not unimportantly, one of Damon’s most soulful vocals that instantly makes you forgive the slightly clunky verse about the sunshine being “in a computer now”. The public must have agreed, because the single shot to number 5 in the UK charts. Considering the song’s many qualities, even this seems an underachievement.

A slightly ragged acoustic version has appeared on a promo disc that was given away with The Observer newspaper. A nice little curio, but it’s strange to have Think Tank’s crowning moment play second fiddle to “Sweet Song” all of a sudden.

Beard

Having just spent half an hour writing about “Fried” only to realise that I already wrote about it before I am in no mood to treat any Blursong with respect. Which brings me to “Beard”. Now, I don’t think music ought to be taken too seriously, and don’t mind artists indulging their whims, especially when it comes to b-sides and such. Only fans will want to listen to those anyway, so you can get away with quite a bit. However, what the hell got into them when they thought releasing “Beard”, a complete waste of jazzy instumentalism, as a “Parklife” b-side was a good idea? It’s annoying, it sucks, and in comparison “Alex’s Song”, “Ludwig” or “Supa Shoppa” are right up there with the band’s best tunes. And it sucks. And it got included on The Special Collector’s Edition while “Young & Lovely” and “Explain” didn’t.

Death Metal

Every young boy needs to go through a heavy metal phase, rediculous t-shirts included. I have fond memories of my days as a headbanger, even going so far as to occasionally listen to some of the better records released at the time, most notably Death’s Individual Thought Patterns, Pestilence’s Spheres and Morbid Angel’s Covenant. Funnily enough it’s my discovery of Blur (and to a slightly lesser extend Suede and, erm, The Lemonheads) that spelled the end of this spell, and prompted me to go get a haircut.

Blur and Death Metal crossed paths again during the sessions for 13 when Blur recorded a 30 minute song called “Death Metal”, probably inspired by Graham Coxon who claimed to be something of a fan of the genre. Whether the song’s got Damon grunting and Dave using double bass drum or whether it’s just a title remains unsure. The chances of it ever seeing the light of day are about as big as England winning the European Championship football this summer. Not impossible (just ask Denmark), but very very slim.

Oily Water

Initially released way back in 1991 on indie compilation album Volume 2, and regularly played live at the time (as can be seen on the DVD reissue of Star Shaped, which is only worth buying for the bonus footage as the sound on the original film is the worst I’ve ever heard on an official release… shame on you’s, EMI!), the marvellous “Oily Water” was dug up when it came to completing Modern Life Is Rubbish’s tracklisting. It sounds as out of place there as it did performed live accompanied by a load of Leisure-era tracks.

It is, however, a monumentally intriguing song. Lyrically, it was a massive step forward for Damon, while the watery sounds of the guitar sound as uncomfortable as said words detailing what sounds suspiciously like a hangover. Quelle surprise. The effect achieved by Damon hollering into a megaphone adds to the spookiness, as do the wordless chorus and the seemingly randomly inserted hooks here and there.

I remember listening a live recording of the song from Rotterdam around 91/92 on the radio, and a painful amount of feedback came through the PA system at some moments. When I heard the album version they were sadly missing, but bless them for not reparing a tape drop outs (or is it tape drops out?) or two.

File under songs that fade out/end to soon, next to the likes of “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” and “Purple Rain”.

Peach

The lyrics sheets that accompany Japanese releases are notoriously unreliable. It appears that they’re translated from English to Japanese and back again, with often delightful errors, such as, say, “Chemical waste, best part of the beach”. And there was I thinking it was about being lovesick about some violent hippy chick eating peaches. It’s an anti-Greenpeace song, in which birds have no business nesting anywhere apart of the gaping hole in your head. Morbid stuff.

Very laid-back morbid stuff at that. The song’s strums and echoes recall “Blue Jeans” (which was released later in the same year), and was revealed to be a favourite of Damon’s when Select Magazine did that article about every Blursong. He still played it to himself regularly at the time. It’s doubtful he still does, but “Peach” is definitely yet another embarrassingly amazing “For Tomorrow” b-side, vinyl-skip-gimmick et al.