Did Blur ever really matter? They may have vied with Oasis for the title of biggest band in Britain for much of the '90s, but Blur never really had their "(What's the Story) Morning Glory?" -- a breakthrough stateside album.
In the U.K., anything Blur releases will still find its way into the charts. Here, their biggest brush with fame was probably having "Song 2" used in a hit car commercial. More American teenagers are probably familiar with sing-er Damon Al-barn's 2001 side project, Gorillaz, than with his "real" band.
So the public's expectations for "Think Tank," the band's seventh album, are more or less non-existent. If Blur decided to, say, ditch their longtime guitarist and record an album in Morocco influenced by electronica and world music, no one would take much notice. And as it happens, Blur has done just that.
Gorillaz was a collaboration between Albarn and esteemed underground hip-hop producer Dan the Automator; after the surprise success of the cartoon super-group's album and hit single "Clint Eastwood," Albarn invited Norman Cook -- better known as Fatboy Slim -- to produce tracks on Blur's next album. This move, along with Albarn's increasingly self-centered vision for the band, apparently upset guitarist Graham Coxon enough to prompt him to quit Blur. Evidently, Albarn's "experimental" impulses got the better of him.
As it turned out, Cook only produced two songs on "Think Tank," and the album is all over the map. The best rock albums may betray one influence here and another there, but there's always a unifying element or theme: the schizophrenic playfulness of the Beatles' "Abbey Road," the murky esotericism of R.E.M.'s "Murmur," the guitar-friendly technophobia of Radiohead's "OK Computer."
The music on "Think Tank" veers wildly from solidly written ballads ("Out of Time") to druggy dub ("Brothers and Sisters") to aimless noodling ("Jet"), but there's no common thread.
To be sure, there are bright spots. The opener "Ambulance" blends a blue-eyed soul vocal with a Moog-drenched chillout track. "I ain't got nothing to be scared of," Albarn croons, and the prospects for the album seem very good indeed.
"Out of Time" maintains the illusion, but the cringe-worthy opening of "Crazy Beat" quickly bursts the bubble. A "yeah yeah yeah ya-yeah" chorus seems designed to capitalize on the inanity of "Song 2's" "woo-hoos," and the distorted vocals that open and close the song are just bloody awful.
Albarn channels David Bowie's "Space Oddity" on the slow, multi-tracked "On the Way to the Club" when he sings, "My eyes are blue, there's nothing I can do." "Brothers and Sisters" molds Nintendo keyboards and ridiculous lyrics about cocaine, codeine, caffeine and "sniffin' superglue" into a funky, slow jam for a 100-degree summer day. "We've Got a File on You" is a one-minute pop-punk nugget.
But for every moment like those, there's five minutes of dreck to wade through on the second half of the album, which is full of misfires, good ideas unfulfilled, rusty squeaks, jam-band-style self-indulgence, affected Cockney accents and even a political anthem called "Moroccan Peo-ples Revolutionary Bowls Club."
Barring the rumored return of Coxon, a collaboration with a top producer and a fortuitous stroke of luck, Blur will never have another hit. Beyond that, it's all up to Albarn whether he will use his first-class song-writing abilities for good or evil. With "Think Tank," it seems he still hasn't made up his mind. That means we have to suffer through another spotty album. But it also means there's still hope for Blur.
