Blur
The Magic Whip
(Parlophone)
B+
A hiatus can prove deadly for a band, regardless of how active its members are. Blur is, of course, no exception. 2003’s Think Tank presented a bit of a schism, and Damon Albarn’s success with Gorillaz seemed to intensify the distance. But a brief reunion tour and a slew of singles rekindled the haze in 2009, and two years ago, something new began to boil. After a lengthy production, The Magic Whip has finally washed ashore.
“Wash” could be used almost literally in this instance. The album isn’t signaling some kind of triumphant return in the slightest, instead strolling through the modern musical landscape in a way that makes it difficult to compare to Blur’s previous work. It takes note of its surroundings, and Albarn’s lyrical prowess proves more aware than it has ever been. They’ve definitely aged, as the differences in their current sound overshadows the small nostalgic bits, but that isn’t to say The Magic Whip will alienate diehard fans; there’s just an expectation that Blur’s audience has wizened as well.
The album’s capricious pacing is actually one of its strongest suits. “New World Towers” allows for a moment to meditate, only to have tracks like “Go Out” and “I Broadcast” bring it back up to speed, the musical equivalent to dozing off into a puddle of expresso. The process is never too extreme, though, as no selection comes remotely close to feeling anxious or rushed.
Albarn’s lyrics can be difficult to discern at times, cascading into global issues — the very overt point detailed in “There are Too Many of Us” — in a way that seems disjointed and out of place. But by and large, the intimacy of Albarn’s words are often just as moving as the music.
Of course, Albarn’s writing isn’t the only thing at work. Dave Rowntree’s ability to sound both ancient and innovative in his percussion gives the album a thread even more powerful than its vocal themes. Graham Coxon’s guitar is the most familiar sound, though his work will periodically feel stale as a result. A few out-of-place tones seem to overstay their welcome, needlessly distracting from a perfectly fine melody. Still, it’s inevitable that after a decade away from the studio, not everything is going to stick.
Despite its flaws, The Magic Whip manages to stay fresh after multiple plays, with a few singles that will inevitably make their way onto a number of “best of” playlists. Perhaps most impressive is the feeling that the group never really skipped a beat, keeping up with both modern nuances and mistakes and casually dipping back into the alternative fold as if their absence never was. And maybe it wasn’t.
