Monday 8 June 2020

Blur - "13" (1999)

After listing to Blur's Parklife, I moved on to listening through the rest of the group's 90s discography (their 'original stint' of sorts). I was exited when moving onto 1997's self-titled record and this one, as the group moved away from the jovial Britpop sound that characterised the 'Life' trilogy, into sounds of noise rock and art rock.

This is evident from opening track and lead single, Tender. The track is a nearly 8 minute, gospel inspired affair with choral vocals. The lyrics detail Damon Albarn's very volatile and public breakup with Elastica front-woman Justine Frischmann, and the soothing nature of the tune feels very cathartic - like a friend being there for you when you're down. A good chunk of the tracks on the record are this vulnerable and personal, which I feel sets it apart from other Blur releases. The second single, Coffee & TV, sung by guitarist Graham Coxon, details his routine for overcoming his alcohol addiction and the struggles along the way. It also is an incredibly soft and gentle song. There are more moments on the record that are this gentle and soothing, which I think makes it comparable to the Post-Britpop era of Coldplay and Travis which was just around the corner.

The track which follows Coffee & TV, Swamp Song, while addressing similar themes, could not be any different musically. It's a loud, noisy, neo-psych song which references Damon Albarn's heroin usage. It sounds delirious and confusing. The record continually switches up it's sound like this. The noisy and fuzzed out Bugman is sandwiched in between Tender and Coffee & TV. The incredibly trippy and melodically minimal 1992 and Battle slide either side of the punk-y and straightforward B.L.U.R.E.M.I. Battle in particular sounds phenomenally psychedelic and confusing, and it is then followed up by the closest thing the album has to a simple acoustic ballad in Mellow Song.

The record gets increasingly dark and sinister in the second half, with the aforementioned battle and the slowburning but cathartic Caramel. Albarn sings in hushed tones about wanting to get better, get over his drug issues and recover from the heartbreak he's feeling, but at this moment he's succumbed and claims he'll "love you forever". This is matched up with an echo-y and swampy mix and a delirious guitar line. All the tension and darkness builds to a cathartic release in No Distance Left To Run, where Damon dives deep into the breakdown of his relationship and provides some incredibly bitter and cutting lyrics referencing Frischmann's drug use in particular. "I won't kill myself trying to stay in your life" and "When you're coming down, think of me" are as sharp as a razor-blade. 

The only real drawback this album has is that it's quite long, and I feel a couple of the slightly less impactful songs on the second half could've been cut to make the record a little punchier overall. They're far from bad, but I can feel a distinction in quality between the best this record has to offer and these couple of moments. On the whole, it is just really great. It's deep and emotional, yet incredibly creative and unique. It very much rewards multiple listens, due to both it's length and the indirectness of some of its darkest moments.

Top Tracks: Tender, Bugman, Coffee & TV, Swamp Song, 1992, B.L.U.R.E.M.I, Battle, Mellow Song, Caramel, No Distance Left To Run

9/10

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