reviewed by Toby Langley


CAPACITY: 2,500 - 2/7/00 - SET-LENGTH: 75 MINUTES

Set-List:

Battle
Tender (with choir)
Blue Jeans
Trimm Trabb
Country Sad Ballad Man
To The End
Look Inside America
Beetlebum (1st rendition stopped during second verse)
Beetlebum (full correct version!)
This is a Low
Death of a Party
No Distance Left To Run
On Your Own
Ernold Same (with Ken Livingstone and choir)
Black Book (new song with choir)

Review>>>

Scott Walker assembled quite a line-up for this year's South Bank-based urban music-fest. Early on into the fortnight of entertainment that was handpicked by the reclusive legend himself, were appearances by Elliot Smith, Asian Dub Foundation, Smog, Jarvis Cocker and friends, Orbital and, of course, Austrian naturist band F**khead, famous for playing with their bits flopping over their instruments. However, on the final weekend of this year's refreshingly diverse event were the highlights that were going to matter: Radiohead's first UK appearance for far too long as well as Blur's 'only live show of the year'. Radiohead, from fan-reaction and favourable reviews, seemed to blow everyone away, but what with another eight or so UK live shows to come in September and October, the importance of this comeback show may have been ever so slightly diluted. However, with the Blur concert tonight, there's no doubt about it: this show was wanted badly.

Yes, but what to play may have been a problem. Just weeks prior to their performance, lead-singer Damon talked of how he wanted to play a set of entirely new material, though just a short while later, he admitted that this probably wasn't a likelihood. As the reputation of Meltdown is typically avant-garde (Damon and Graham last playing here in 1998 with the experimental duo, Silver Apples), it was expected by media and fans alike that a set of difficult and challenging tracks would be aired. So, as half of the seats were filled at the late start of 9:00pm (Euro 2000 final was on, well done France), a set of unusual sounds was certainly delivered to a curious crowd...

... Though only by Japanese support act, Cicala Mvta. After watching this band for half an hour, you could really feel enriched in the knowledge that Blur fans had taken to them readily, complete with their traditional Asian flutes, pipes and brass, not to mention twangy guitar and vigorously-stroked cello. For sure, if this act were the support for any other UK, 90s-established, guitar band, you'd expect the crowd reaction to be flat, but it was nice to know Blur fans were open-minded enough to accept and respect their form of sound. In terms of actually describing their sound, maybe the closest you could get is a brass band parping out blasts of noise crossed with the rock sound of the 80s, as demonstrated by the disturbingly competent playing of their guitarist. Tracks like 'Sorry to Have Fallen in Love with You' may have sounded quite similar to the next track according to the untrained ear, but what's wrong with that if the sound is both pleasurable and exciting to listen to? However, the cello-player's afro haircut and balloon-blowing antics mid-song were just plain disturbing (especially when he jumped offstage to reclaim his balloon after it failed to secure on to the lead's head).

This is it, however. Twenty-five minutes past ten, the lights go down and the completely-seated audience, bar the bustling photographers at the foot of the stage, are radiating excitement. The vast size of the stage is realised as Graham, Alex and Dave take to their places, Damon trailing behind as he scratches his face. On taking centre-stage, Albarn comments, 'Tonight we're gonna be playing an interesting set,' a grin emerging on his contented face. The opening space-ship sounding noises of 'Battle', complete with moon-bouncing keyboard intro, provide a chilling start to the night's song-selection. Dave's drumming is as tight as ever and as the crunchy and echoing guitar work of Coxon fades away, you've already forgotten that their last live appearance was almost seven months ago.

Damon's known for his stage-comments. Often he says before popular live songs, such as 'There's No Other Way' that they're 'never gonna play it ever again', but, sure enough, it will pop back into the live set less than a year or so later. So, when his recent comments in the 'NME' of them never playing ANY singles again, fans couldn't help greeting his views with scepticism. And why not, because as the London Community Gospel Choir shuffles onstage unnoticed until the spot-light shines on them and Graham's guitar opens 'Tender', the idea of Blur not playing any of their singles ever again sounds ridiculous - how can a chicken not lay its eggs? It's a clap-along occasion, Damon's vocals sublime and ending after a moving 'oh my baby' closure from the choir. 'Modern Life is Rubbish' hidden gem, 'Blue Jeans', opens with ba-ba keyboards and stop-start drums. The melodic chorus is sheer bliss, filling the huge building quite capably and making it seem like a local village hall. Two similar sounding tracks (starting quite acoustic and shoulder-moving, before rocking out in a wall of sound) follow, 'Trimm Trabb' and 'Country Sad Ballad Man', making way for a mellowed and touching 'To The End'. Introduced by the now-comfortable singer, Damon dedicates it to Scott, 'I just know that he's had quite a powerful effect on our lives (looks to band)...'

The comment, 'This one's about touring and how hard it is,' triggers off a barrage of fans answering back sarcastically, 'Oh yeah, really hard!' Damon responds almost patronisingly, 'Oh, well, you don't know, which is fine. I don't expect you to know what it (touring) is like...' And with that, the first ever UK performance of 'Look Inside America' is played, beginning with Damon's acoustic strumming and wailing, though strong vocals. As the song reaches its musical break (Dave brushes some chimes together on his kit and Graham gently plucks his guitar), you can't help asking yourself, 'Why wasn't this a single and why wasn't it number one in the charts for two years?' The 'Blur' material continues with 'Beetlebum', which, in all fairness starts badly from the outset; Damon forgets his words, it slips his mind where the chorus comes in and he doesn't even bother trying the second verse, preferring to laugh in the direction of Alex, who, up till now, has successfully not taken the 'Fat Les are shite' remarks to heart. The laughing frontman reasoned with the crowd for his lack of professionalism, 'It's just that every time I look at him (Alex), I won't tell you the name of the brand of the cigarettes he smokes, but I just can't help thinking of all the free motorcycles and things he's got because of it!' Claps emerge from the crowd and it's agreed that their 1997 number one would be given another shot - good thing two because it sounded damn fine.

It's worrying how you can actually forget how amazing 'This is a Low' sounds live, because I really think this was their best version yet. However, rather than letting people dwell on that by walking offstage for a set of encores to pop up later, they remain where they are unusually and play a thrilling 'Death of a Party', complete with scratchy guitar and eye-endangering lighting. This gig was just getting better and better. You could just feel the atmosphere increase and the inclusion of the songs so far was a testament to Blur's exceptional ability and vast back catalogue. 'No Distance Left To Run' is always worthy of inclusion, the lack of lighting poignant, forcing you to focus in on the words and sound of the music, Graham continuing to play on top form. However, once again, rather than buggering offstage to let us linger on the greatness of their last top-20, they stay and play an unusual single-choice for the so far toned down and almost 'chilled' set - 'On Your Own', but thank God they did play it. The audience at the sides of the stalls had a dance, a singalong and the lights brightened up the darkness that otherwise floated above the stage. It could have been show-closing, but, no, not yet.

The last performance of 'The Great Escape''s weakest moment, 'Ernold Same', complete with now-London mayor, the nasal-whining, but people's choice, Ken Livingstone, was in 1995 at Wembley Arena. For tonight, as then, he was given a platform from which he could recite several lines of mindless poetry whilst Blur play ridiculous incidental music, Damon bawling, 'Poor old Ernold Same' over the top of it all. However, this time, the choir takes the vocal responsibilities from Damon and turn this silly, but admittedly fun number, into a strong track, the audience in awe at the sight of Ken. The response is as strong as it could have been for Phil Daniels doing 'Parklife', but this was a more welcome surprise. Once again, though, how can this all last. 'This is our last song... and it's a new song...' Expecting people to jolt upright in their seats and scream 'NOOOO!' before stabbing themselves violently, Damon was pleased to hear a few cheers, though he still protectively commented, 'If you don't like it, then, er, I guess we're f**ked!' The audience laugh, but he's right; if Blur produce poo songs from now on in, then they are f**ked, but any fans know better than that. 'Black Book' is incredible and Blur are secretly confident of it, after all, would YOU close a show with a new song that you thought was a load of smelly pants? No, exactly my point, thank you very much. Starting, as much as I hate to say this, with the soundalike keyboard 'bomb-bomb-bombs' that can be heard in the 80s hit 'Take My Breath Away', featured in 'Top Gun', Damon croaks, 'Give me a soul' as the drums patter almost silently, the bass oozes and Graham's guitar is kept to a harsh minimum. The slow-burner then explodes in vocals from the London Community Gospel Choir, creating an explosive crescendo of sound before it closes and the band disappear, gone. Not coming back. It's mindblowingly profound and as the house lights appear, people are astonished that it's over, but easily admit about how good the show was.

Damon commented that this was definitely their only live show of they year, but let's hope that like his 'we'll never play the singles again' comments, that it was just a throwaway remark.

(c) Toby Langley 2000 onwards. All international rights reserved.