![]() Opposed to a complicated cluster of four middle-aged men that would rather get the band back together, spit out the singles, add another zero or two to the bank balance then ‘break up’ again. They are, after all, a rather complicated cluster of four middle-aged men that enjoy the notion of having their fingers bit off by dipping them into unknown musical territories, but the journey just feels so goddamn right. You weren’t really expecting Song 2 again, were you? (or would that mathematically be more correct to call Song 3?). The curious passion, from Echo and Narcissus, a tale from Ovid’s Metamorphosis, contemporarily being: the world’s insatiable obsession, its addiction with image, with ego, and the rampant, conspicuous means of keeping it inflated through whatever lens we can let others look through. Or so The Narcissist, the debut song from blur’s ninth album, The Ballad of Darren expounds. In the event, Narcissus died of a curious passion ‘Yes’, he replied, ‘so long as he never knows himself’-Įmpty words, as they long appeared, but the prophet was proved right ‘Tell me, ‘she asked, ‘will my baby live to a ripe old age?’ In course of time she consulted the seer Liriope gave birth to a child, already adorable,Ĭalled Narcissus. Hardly a way to steer disbelievers that this is nostalgia slinging a trap in its hands, more the continuation of a story between best friends who can’t ignore the sheer power of what they have together. After a recent thunderstorm of sold-out shows, some of the venues of which could fit twice into their two mega Wembley debuts, blur emerge with a new album. ![]()
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