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Best albums of 2023: #2 Blur “The ballad of Darren”

I trust you’ve all had a restful and joyous Christmas holiday, those who celebrate it anyway. Mine was spent with my wife and family, eating lots of good eats. My itinerary for Boxing Day today is to head out to support some independent record stores (avoiding the big shopping malls) and seeing if I can score some records at deal prices. But before I do, I thought I’d drop this little post here on my second favourite album of the year.

Ah yes, Blur.

The London-based quartet has seen a lot of mentions on these pages, appearing in a good number of my Best tunes lists, at least one Best albums list so far, and a special post highlighting my top five favourite tunes by the group. In every single post, I’ve mention that I’ve been a big fan of the group for years, inferring that I know their discography intimately. I saw them a couple of times in the early 90s, both on two separate legs of tours supporting 1994’s “Parklife”, and have often thought it would be great to see them again. So, yeah, I was quite excited when news broke late last year of plans for more live shows, an excitement that grew when a new studio album was also announced this spring, but as of yet, none of their shows have come close enough to my neck of the woods to be financially viable to procure tickets*.

I picked up a copy of Blur’s 9th album on vinyl the first chance I got, having only heard the first single, “The narcissist”. I figured that even if it wasn’t as good as their previous work that I would want it on my record shelves next to the rest of their albums. Luckily for me, “The ballad of Darren” is very good indeed, surprisingly so, and there’s no fear that it will become a dust collector. I’ve already put it through the paces a number of times on my turntable.

Written for the most part by frontman Damon Albarn while he was on tour with Gorillaz in 2022, it is considered by the group to be the most like their earlier work because it was recorded very much collaboratively as they did in their early days. For me, it is like a return to their Britpop haunts but viewed through the dusty and musty time machine windows. It is by far their shortest ever record but this doesn’t mean we feel short-changed. This is very much Blur but not a Blur we’ve heard before. They’ve reverted back from the art rock that has informed much of their last three and yet it hasn’t completely left the room. Indeed, “The ballad of Darren” feels like the culmination of everything Blur. It is a band playing music together and for themselves, loose and free from expectations and in so doing, exceeding them all.

This 9th album doesn’t feel like a climax, or like a swansong, and yet, if this does turn out to be the last Blur record, I don’t think we’d have any cause at all to complain. If you haven’t yet given it a chance, there’s ten great tracks here worth you time. If you’re still unsure, these three picks for you are a great representation of what you would find within.


“Goodbye Albert“: Track seven continues the trend that strings throughout, taking its cue from the album title, a mellower tone that didn’t frighten me at all. I’ve always loved Blur’s ballads and this one is typically Blur and so unlike a traditional ballad. The drumming is understated but complex, Dave Rowntree restraining himself but still putting on his stamp, while Alex James is doing the same with his heavy bass backbone. Graham Coxon plays guitar hero here yet again, dancing around the arpeggios one moment and flailing out grunge feedback the next. And Damon Albarn is seemingly realizing his pivotal moment, saying goodbye to what once was but hesitating with all the finality. “We crossed the world, we disappeared, and no one looks to see if we are coming back soon. I was not ready yet… Let it go.”

“Barbaric”: “I have lost the feeling that I thought I’d never lose. Now where am I going? At what cost, the feeling that I thought I’d never lose? It is barbaric.” If you thought it was all going to be mellow and low-key, this one proves it wrong. It’s peppy and catchy and quite jubilant despite obviously being about a surprise breakup at an inopportune time. James feels like the star with a bass line that bounces around and carries a lively presence and our wonderful drummer Coxon keeps pace with a nod of the head, a wink, and a jaunty smile. This one feels like a fan favourite in the making. Classic Blur and if it weren’t so late in the game, high hopes for future Blur.

“The narcissist”: As mentioned above, this is the one we all heard first and the one that convinced us all that “The ballad of Darren” would be an album worth our collective times. “I’ma shine a light in your eyes (in your eyes). You’ll probably shine it back on me, but I won’t fall this time. With Godspeed, I’ll heed the signs.” Though it sounds quite different, “The narcissist” reminds me a lot of their surprise single from 2012, “Under the westway“. It’s wistful and mature, looking back at what made Blur great but doing so with years of experience and the same amount of time to reflect on everything. It effortlessly fits alongside some of the band’s best work, getting deep into your bones and stuck in your head, and making you think about worth and existence and what’s waiting around the next corner. So, so, so, so good.


*And recent comments by Albarn suggesting it might be time wind up the group again make me think seeing them this time around is becoming increasingly unlikely.

We’ll be back in a handful of days with album #1. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:

10. Bodywash “I held the shape while I could”
9. Boygenius “The record”
8. Depeche Mode “Memento mori”
7. The Clientele “I am not there anymore”
6. Eyelids “A colossal waste of light”
5. Pale Blue Eyes “This house”
4. The Reds, Pinks and Purples “The town that cursed your name”
3. The Veils “…And out of the void came love”

You can also check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.

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Albums

Best albums of 2023: #3 The Veils “…And out of the void came love”

When I sat down to write this post, I was not a little bit flabbergasted to realize that this would make only the second time* that The Veils have appeared on these pages. Of course, it made more sense once I reasoned that it had been more than seven years since their last album, which was one year before I started My Life in Music Lists.

The Veils got their start way back in 2001 when a teenaged Finn Andrews was signed to Rough Trade Records and relocated back to his birthplace of London, England after growing up for the most part in New Zealand. He has been the group’s driving force and only static member, though they did have a pretty stable five-piece lineup for a decade or so between the mid-2000s and up to the release and tour cycle of their fifth album, 2016’s “Total depravity”. I had been a pretty rabid fan of the group, right after hearing their debut, espousing their virtues to all my friends and acquaintances, and featuring them regularly on my old blog, Music Insanity**.

I would go on about how Finn Andrews’ theatrical vocals and emotional songwriting and delivery really set The Veils apart from any other band, comparing his voice to that of a Rufus Wainwright or a young Lou Reed (before his voice went to seed) and his soul to that of Tom Waits or Nick Cave, or even an older Lou Reed. And all of these superlatives grew in stature when I saw them in 2007 for their tour supporting their 2006 album, “Nux Vomica”, and was blown away by the passion of Andrews and how he throws himself completely into the performance of his music.

To that point, Andrews broke his wrist while touring a solo album he had released in 2019 and he made it worse by deciding to finish out the tour. This meant for a much longer recovery in which he couldn’t tour or perform live. Instead, he spent the time resting and writing and recording by himself. Of course, the worldwide pandemic complicated things and extended their absence, but when The Veils finally resurfaced, now in 2023, it was with this magnificent double album and a whole new lineup of players backing the welcome return of an incredible songwriter and singular vocalist.

“…And out of the void came love” is an album of two thematic parts, meant to be listened to as such. It is recognizable as The Veils and their gothic and romantic take on folk and rock, still evoking Waits and Cave, but here there is more hope, a hint of a sunrise after a long dark night. I highly recommend you take the time give this one its due but my three picks for you can give a taste of what this return has to offer.


“Epoch“: The second song on the second side of part/disc one, aka track number six, is an urgent and visceral explosion. Andrews holds court like a crazed ringmaster during the verses, shouting rather than singing them, rattling them off through an an invisible megaphone, tipping his hat, and dancing a jig and all the while drums clatter, the bass punishes, and guitars dance through feedback and threaten to fall out of tune. And when it comes to the chorus, all Andrews needs to do is repeat the same line, “I’ve seen it coming”, multiple times, but they’re just words, the meaning and emotion is different every time they escape his lips. It’s a vocal achievement and a trick of magic and you’re held rapt the whole time.

“Time”: This whole beast starts off with this nearly six minute piano-driven dirge that was released as a single on New Years Day 2023. It was written during the first lockdowns in New Zealand and reflects what I am sure a lot of us were feeling in the early days of the pandemic. The piano rolls interminably like the incessant ticking of a clock as it keeps you up in the early hours of the morning. It has the feeling of walking the tightrope of insanity. “Тіmе іѕ а dеvіl. Тіmе іѕ а rосk. Тіmе іѕ а rіddlе, nоnе оf uѕ саn unlосk.” It is Andrews playing in a realm of poetic lyricism, dragging us along with him through his range of emotions, and it is here, along with a number of other places on the album, that we can hear with almost perfectly clarify where all those comparisons to Nick Cave come from.

“No limits of stars”: The track that follows the last one then turns us all on our heads. If we think we’re getting and we think we want an album full of murder ballads like “Time”, we realize within the first few seconds of “No limit of stars” that we were dead wrong. “Well, it’s true the universe cares not how we all live and die. But there’s an element missing in that arrangement somehow, and I wondered why, in any way, we don’t live long, beneath no limit of stars.” It’s a rousing piece of existentialism, an exploration of our smallness in the face of infinity and expansion. And Andrews and his merry band of musicians punish us lovingly with a tune without quit. The drum beat doesn’t break and the haunting guitars and lonely keys match it breath for breath, heartache for heartache. It exists in a frozen place and time, as the second hand hesitates between notches just after midnight and the rest of the house is quiet, save for its settling creaks and groans. It is intense but perfectly so.


*The only other The Veils post here is a ‘Vinyl love’ piece I did for their debut album four and half years ago.

**Part of the reason I was gobsmacked that they hadn’t appeared on this blog more to date, something I shall have to remedy, obviously.

We’ll be back after Christmas with album #2. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:

10. Bodywash “I held the shape while I could”
9. Boygenius “The record”
8. Depeche Mode “Memento mori”
7. The Clientele “I am not there anymore”
6. Eyelids “A colossal waste of light”
5. Pale Blue Eyes “This house”
4. The Reds, Pinks and Purples “The town that cursed your name”

You can also check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.

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Albums

Best albums of 2023: One more honourable mention

We interrupt our regularly scheduled ‘end of year’ programming with this short post, indeed, a little bit of revisionist history.

This has happened occasionally over the many years of counting down my favourite albums of the year. An album comes out late in the year, either just before finishing putting together the list and too late to become terribly familiar with it to allow for serious consideration or as it was in this case, released a full week after I solidified my list and started posting words about it. And I actually suspected that this might happen when I heard the release date for Breeze’s third album “Sour grapes” was being pushed back to December 8th. Of course, now that it’s out and I’ve given it a few spins, I knew it begged special mention before the year was out.

For its first two records, Breeze was basically a solo studio project of Josh Korody, who was once one half of Toronto-based dream pop duo, Beliefs. I have yet to listen to Breeze’s debut, “The record”, but from what I’ve read, it was not too far removed from his work with his other band. The sophomore record, “Only up”, was recorded in only 8 days with a handful of like-minded musicians from other well-known Toronto area bands and received a lot of nods from the music press for its energetic and updated homage to Manchester baggy and Britpop. It reached number four on my own list of best albums for 2021 back in the day.

Since then, Korody has put together a full band to meet the need to be able to perform songs from that sophomore album live. This latest record includes contributions from said band and sees the addition of a bit of 80s post-punk and new wave to the 90s brit pop and baggy sounds. A little bit of Echo & the Bunnymen to the Happy Mondays. If that seems like it might be your thing as much as it is mine, I highly recommend giving this one a go.


I’ll be back in a couple of days returning to our regularly scheduled program, counting down my Best albums of 2023 list. In the meantime, you can check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.