To mark its 35th anniversary, Blur delivers a neat, cohesive and melancholy-tinged album. His best since 13, released in 1999.
We are sorry for having doubted. To have believed that Damon Albarn, Graham Coxon, Alex James and Dave Rowntree had lost touch, eight years after The Magic Whip, an uneven album recorded in a few days in Hong Kong. For this error of judgment, we blame our frustration. Frustration to find that once again, the British formation had concocted a tour itinerary, its first in eight long years, which did not include any stops in North America.
In short, our expectations were not particularly high, but even if they had been, they would have been exceeded. Because with The Ballad of Darren, Blur proves that after 35 years, a band can continue to deliver inspired material, without denying its roots and honoring its past.
A dreamy – but never depressive – melancholy emanates from the record. The lower pitched voice of Damon Albarn (consequence of aging) serves this atmosphere wonderfully well. Right from the start, The Ballad (which lives up to its name) joined Strange News from Another Star (1997), No Distance Left to Run (1999), Out of Time (2003) and Battery in Your Leg (2003) in the pantheon of the best ballads of the group. The touching The Everglades (For Leonard) also deserves to be inducted there.
Britpop fans will delight in Barbaric, a sunny and instantly catchy track to which the band’s vocal harmonies bring extra soul. The rockiest piece of the set, St. Charles Square, seems straight out of David Bowie’s 1970s repertoire, Berlin trilogy era.
The cohesive force of the disc is such that a piece like The Narcissist, which had nevertheless left us indifferent when it was released in the spring, gains momentum and, above all, takes on its full meaning when it is followed by Goodbye Alert and Far Away Island. .
Not insignificant detail to mention: The Ballad of Darren is only 36 minutes long. Admittedly, we would have liked Blur to spend more time in the studio and offer a (much) longer cake. But since in the end, the opus does not count any second of filling, the addition of titles would have risked diluting the excellent sauce.
A “deluxe” version including two previously unreleased but forgettable songs (The Rabbi, The Swan) is also offered.
