It’s fine. It’s a fine album. Nothing groundbreaking, no new Parklife or anything like that. But then again it doesn’t really need to be. Blur had already accomplished what they set out to do decades ago. Anything we get these days we should consider ourselves lucky for. And I’m glad we got them back just one more time.
That was what I initially wrote after hearing The Ballad of Darren for the first time on the night of July 21st, a night I had been gearing up for since the album was first announced months ago. Maybe I set my expectations a bit too high as the big day drew closer and closer but when I finally got to hear a full Blur LP for the first time since I started caring about music, my world wasn’t exactly set on fire.
But let’s be honest, should it be set on fire? This isn’t the 90s anymore (unfortunately), Damon has given us Gorillaz and done a couple of solo LPs, ditto for Graham and his new project The Waeve, Dave has just started his own with Radio Songs (Which has the most uninspired album cover of all time but that’s besides the point), and Alex has become a real life Wallace with his love of cheese. One of these is not like the others.
And indeed it seems that throughout this album Blur themselves are aware of their status in the modern world, as four aging geezers still making quality indie music. But is there a dark shadow cast over The Ballad of Darren?
Track #1 – The Ballad
Kicking off proceedings is a 20 year old track demo’d during the Think Tank era, and indeed it does remind me of Sweet Song and the sentiment surrounding that song whilst Graham was AWOL. To me, The Ballad is similar to opening scenes that take place at the end of the story, like Sunset Boulevard for example. All the shit has hit the fan, the ballad has played for the narrator, and part of their life is now permanently shut. The strings help evoke the latter, being reminiscent of a funeral. Something has disappeared, gone forever, and that will become a running theme as the album progresses. Brilliant opener.
Track #2 – St. Charles Square
Bit controversial but in the run-up to Darren’s release this was my favourite of the two singles. It immediately made me think of the Blur of old as Graham Coxon did his magic and gave us a Scary Monsters-esque guitar riff that wouldn’t have been out of place on the self-titled album.
However, this one does stick out like a sore thumb considering the rest of the album’s sound and tone. There’s something ‘old glory’ about St. Charles Square. In the context of the album it could be construed as being thrown into a new and slightly disturbing environment and trying to adapt to it like you would in the old days. Or alternatively, considering Damon’s comments about ‘ghosts of monsters’, it’s about trying to shirk the outside influences and manically trying to avoid those long and slender claws.
Regardless of the story it is trying to tell, of its black sheep status on The Ballad of Darren, and (if I have to nitpick) Damon’s slightly lackadaisical vocals, I do still thoroughly enjoy this song.
Track #3 – Barbaric
Before I talk about the song proper can I just say I find it strange releasing a single on the same day as the album itself? Was that common practise back in the day?
Anyway, with a drumbeat from Dave Rowntree that sounds like a funky retake of Stephen Morris’ effort on She’s Lost Control, we move from ’97 to 13 and revisit breakups with the most transparent addressing of the matter since No Distance Left To Run. Graham’s guitarwork changes gear as we switch to a lighter, more poppy sound that is juxtaposed with some tearjerky lyrics that makes Barbaric a perfectly pleasant listen and a late-era Blur classic.
I get that St. Charles Square was probably released as a single to reassure older fans, but let’s be honest this song should’ve been in its place. Or at least released a few days before the album was.
Track #4 – Russian Strings
Escapism is something that practically became a necessity a few years ago when we were dragged through the pandemic and had to run from the fact that our lives were at a lowest ebb. And it sounds like the narrator is feeling this way too as they begin by reaching out into the smoke (No doubt created by a certain f*ckwit of a warlord) for a loved one. But rather than confront the truth, they put off realism and the dread that closely follows using some headphones, trips to Belgradian museums and “the hard stuff”. It’s quite a heavy song when you dig into it, and I appreciate that.
Track #5 – The Everglades (For Leonard)
5 tracks in and it does seem about the right time for an intimate acoustic number. Regret well and truly rears its head here for the first time (“Many ghosts alive in my mind/many paths I wish I’d taken”), but it’s quickly fought and pushed against with sprinklings of hope and optimism (“Calmer days will arrive” and “We’re not giving in”). Or so it seems as we get the admittance that it’s too late. By the sounds of it Leonard is in a bad way. Poor sod.
Track #6 – The Narcissist
Ok, lead single time. For me this took a while to settle in as it wasn’t really the big stomping comeback I either predicted nor hoped for from Blur. However, this song actually leans into that prediction, the narrator looking in the mirror and reminiscing about the days that would make their heart pound delightfully. But now they’re older and wiser, and now know that taking acid to get joy out of life is not the way. The Narcissist is a song from the perspective of a person who’s been there, done that, needs to move on. They’re better than what they were. And that does make me wonder if Blur, or specifically Damon, are addressing a certain past event with a more mature pair of eyes. I’ll elaborate later on.
In terms of the music itself, it’s good to have Graham and Dave teaming up on backing vocals. For the longest time I was put off by how understated The Narcissist was and how I felt Graham was being held back from doing his usual tricks. But this isn’t a song that requires it, nor is the album one that needs to him to do guitar riffs that would make a coked up John Squire blush. It’s all about the tale being told, the music is secondary but nonetheless sublime.
Track #7 – Goodbye Albert
The Eastern vibes of The Magic Whip are evoked in the opening to this track, the most explicit breakup song since Barbaric. 80s-style beat, whiny guitarwork, warbly basswork, all come together to create one of the more musically impressive efforts on The Ballad of Darren. Lyric-wise? “Don’t punish me forever” is certainly a line that stings, though I must admit that I initially misheard it as “Don’t punch me”. Thought the album was going in a bit of a dark direction there.
Track #8 – Far Away Island
After Russian Strings touched upon Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, I do wonder if this song is an expansion on that topic, this time focusing on someone being forced to immigrate from a home they clearly miss. The song itself is a letter to the lost, asking how things are at home in the first verse, before assuring the reader that all is well or at least could be worse – It’s not ideal “dancing alone with the moon and the white whale”
Track #9 – Avalon
I do love that chorus and it’s once again another shining example of the inspired melodies present throughout the album. But Avalon is a track that feels like a placeholder, a calm before the storm…
Track #10 – The Heights
The Essex Dogs are barking again. It sounds like that song is trying its damndest to break out and terrify us once more, and in those final seconds we get that cliffhangery static reminiscent of the lo-fi of the self-titled album. It really catches you off guard after how the past half hour has gone since St. Charles Square. Despite how restrained and even laid-back Blur have been throughout The Ballad of Darren, it goes to show that they will never lose that spiky edge of theirs.
Conclusion:
If this is a breakup album as the tone, songs such as Barbaric, Goodbye Albert and The Ballad, and the comments surrounding the album itself would have you believe, then this could easily be conceived as a stripped back rehash of 13. But the key difference here is the maturity behind The Ballad of Darren, and how they are now all grown up. When 13 was made it was by four pissed off blokes orbiting their 30s who thought their lives were spiralling out of control to the point of destruction, sped up by substance abuse. Now they’re in their mid 50s who know that such cataclysmic events aren’t necessarily the end and that they can work their way through it. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though.
Initially I believed that in some ways this album was an epilogue to the Life trilogy, but now it could be considered one to their careers as a whole; Blur are now at the midlife stage and that is reflected in the overarching theme of regret peppered with the occasional wry smile as the past is dwelt upon. This is not a Blur album that we needed, but neither is it a Blur album which we will ever say no to.
Good to have you back, gents.
A-Side Glance 