It's 1996 and fans are nervously awaiting Blur's followup to Parklife; rumours of an American underground rock-influenced album swirl. This is probably what they were expecting: all that alt-rock crunch, swished with britpop sensibilities and a early-Supergrass bratty romp.
Except this came out 10 years later. Such a strange step backwards.
I love Blur's self-titled, such a weird, messy beast. It's just the sweetspot of all the band's divergent impulses. Coxon's widely credited with its American angle, but if this is what he's got in his heart lets be glad that Damon et al were there to spike the punch.
Don't get me wrong, this album's perfectly solid. Sounds like a Blur album really, but it's pretty safe, totally lacking surprises, and miles away from the ramshackle masterpiece you won't be able to keep from comparing it to 3/5
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