Review Summary: Where are you going, darling?
Suffering builds character, they say. Whether or not that’s a statement you agree with, Blur seem to have embodied it here. They are, after all, no stranger to pain. The group’s 1999 album ‘13’ is drenched in it and their latest record ‘The Ballad of Darren’ is no different. Across a brisk 36 minutes, the band bare their souls with a set of subtle and slow burning melancholic ballads that harken less back to ‘Parklife’ and more so to Albarn’s 2014 solo record ‘Everyday Robots’. But is that a good thing? Is this really the Blur album we were all expecting? I think the one thing I’ve learned from Blur is to expect the unexpected, especially when it comes to their music. Their 1997 self titled album was such a massive departure in sound from ‘The Great Escape’ that it felt like the work of a totally different band, so ‘The Ballad of Darren’ being how it is isn’t too surprising, but the ultimate question here is ‘is the album good or not?’. Let’s see.
It’s worth noting right from the start that this is a sad album and there’s rarely a light of hope breaking through the darkness across the LP’s runtime. It’s their second breakup album coming after 1999’s ‘13’, though more so in lyrical content than sound, and as such it can be a particularly draining listen. However, what is most interesting is how the band (or Damon more accurately) are handling this pain. ‘13’ was a lot of things. An explosion of torment and anguish, full of self loathing, bitterness and confusion but ‘The Ballad of Darren’ looks to handle these emotions differently. It’s a numb feeling release. If ‘13’ was a quest to desperately fight and deny the death of a relationship, before finally accepting it is over, this album feels more like the aftermath. Growing older has changed the perspective and while the pain is still there and is undeniable, it explores and tries to come to gripes with those emotions instead of fighting back at them. ‘I ***ed up’ Damon mutters at the start of second single ‘St. Charles Square’; one of the few moments on the album where the distortion is cranked up and the band really let loose into a chaotic ‘Scary Monsters’ styled rocker. I think the best comparison between the two comes from their closers (or in the case of ‘13’, its penultimate track). ‘No Distance Left to Run’ and ‘The Heights’ are both incredibly alike yet stand at the polar opposites of one another. ‘No Distance-‘ comes after an album full of, at times, punishing guitar work and swarms of rage, confusion and bitterness. Yet instead of pushing this even further, it takes a different approach. The sound is stripped back and scaled down. The dense production of the rest of the songs gives way to a simple bluesy dirge as Damon accepts that this relationship has truly died and that he can’t avoid it any longer. He won’t bother trying to make it work anymore because the spark is dead and gone. It is the end of the line and it is absolutely miserable. ‘The Heights’ on the other hand feels almost optimistic in its tone. A meditation on the good times and the hope of reconciliation before it’s snuffed out. “Are we running out of time?” asks Damon before the song is swallowed by a deafening wall of white noise, cutting off abruptly as the cacophony of sound reaches a violent fever pitch. It’s this contrast between both songs (and by extension albums) that is the most interesting and I think it definitely shows the band’s journey not just as musicians but as people too. A simple, melancholic end to a loud and noisy record, compared to a passionate but abrasive closer to a much softer album. Neat stuff.
This sense of numbness and sad acceptance further leaks over into the album’s sound as well. If you’re expecting something like Beetlebum or Song 2, or hell even Girls and Boys, you’re not going to find it here, outside of the fantastic ‘Barbaric’ which manages to blend this sense of pained acceptance with a catchy (dare I say, Britpop styled) indie number. Slow burning piano ballads with light orchestration, tremolo laden guitar and thudding drums are the aim of the game here (all produced effortlessly by James Ford, fresh off Arctic Monkeys similarly atmospheric ‘The Car’ and Depeche Mode’s ‘Momento Mori’). Graham in particular is the star of the show, even though his signature virtuosity is more subtle and complementary than front and centre like it was on their previous albums. In particular his playing on the waltz like ‘Goodbye Albert’, which switches from woozy arpeggios in the verses to a shuddering shoegaze haze in the chorus is some of the finest work he’s ever done.
This slower, gentler sound never really lets up, right from the soothing piano led opener ‘The Ballad’. While it’s lush and beautiful, the more restrained sound does also prove to be a bit of a stumbling block for the album. The ballads far outweigh everything else and moments of energy are relegated to the aforementioned ‘St. Charles Square’, ‘Barbaric’ and the lead single ‘The Narcissist’. The stretch from ‘The Now Now’ styled ‘Russian Strings’ to the dreamy ‘Far Away Island’ was a particular sticking point for me upon first listen. Things started to blend together and the lack of memorable hooks and the seemingly aimless arrangements lead me to think the album was… kinda boring. Indeed, I’ve seen and heard many other people voicing their disappointment with the album purely because of this and for a while I did sort of agree. “It’s a real ***ing downer” I told a family member when discussing the album with them “I’m not sure I like it or not”. But repeated listens have only served to heighten the record for me. Is it their best work? Heavens no, in fact it still sits firmly in the backend of their discography for me, but there is a lot to love with ‘The Ballad of Darren’ if you accept what it’s going for. Subtle, mediative, pained beauty. Gentle agony. “It sounds like Blur, but men” Graham told MOJO magazine and really I do agree, even if it took me a few listens to understand and accept that. After all, when you’re sad you’re sad. It would be foolish to expect another ‘Lonesome Street’ or ‘For Tomorrow’ when you’re absolutely miserable. I will say however that relegating ‘The Rabbi’, ‘The Swan’ and ‘Sticks and Stones’ to bonus tracks is completely insane and adding them to the main record fully would’ve only boosted my score (‘The Rabbi’ in particular is one of the best songs they’ve ever done), but c’est la vie. You can’t get what you want all the time and I suppose that’s a big theme of the album anyway. Maybe that’s too meta though, who knows?
From where it stands, it’s difficult to see where Blur will go from here. Another album so soon? Another tour? Another 8 year hiatus before they come to rip up and rewrite the book yet again? I don’t know. But like i said before, Blur has taught me to expect the unexpected when it comes to their music. I just hope it comes sooner rather than later.
4/5 - Excellent
Standouts: The Ballad, St. Charles Square, Barbaric, Russian Strings, The Narcissist, Goodbye Albert, Avalon, The Heights
