“Woo Hoo!” Yeah, that song isn’t on this one. Neither is any witty commentary on the mundane day to day of British society. This is the lowest of lows, the lowest point that Blur could ever hit. That is, however, an extremely good thing.
Even the worst of times are shaded with tiny rays of sunlight, and “13″ is no different. It is a manufactured, processed sunlight given off by fluorescent lamps however. Apparently the bulk of the albums lyrics are inspired by frontman Damon Albarn’s messy breakup, and that always makes for amazing(or hollow) fodder. The breakup sends this album on a manic spiral trough self-doubt, self-loathing, wistfulness and starting over. Gone are the days of Kinks inspired, “Rue Britannia” whimsy. In its stead, we have a completely fleshed out cycle of living with the loss of a lover.
Albarn seems to be cheering himself on in the opener “Tender”, with lines like “Come on, get through it. love is the greatest thing that we have”. But even the gospel choir in the background can’t cover the hollow that is creeping from his voice. He spends the rest of the album remembering the past(1992 specifically), and telling himself “i’ve gotta get over, i’ve gotta get better”. The album reaches a climax with “No Distance Left To Run”, wherein he finally realises there is no relationship and he needs to pursue his mania no futher. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the rest of Blur are having their own musical meltdown and breakup.
Mostly, up until this point, Blur had written little slices of British day-to-day wrapped inside a littel nugget of pop euphoria. Equally inspired by the Kinks, Bowie, and apparently the weather, the band always teetered on the edge of art school and Top of the Pops. “13″ demolishes any hopes ofa repeat offence.
Helmed by producer/dj Willaim Orbit, “13″ flirts with Eno inspired landscapes and has a full- blown affair with dancefloor beats. The only respite coming from the Graham Coxon sung “Coffee & TV”, which in itself is a helping of late 60′s British Invasion glee.
None of this is a bad thng in the slightest. The dancefloor flirtations and ambient background shapes take the album over the art-school edge that Blur so badly needed to fall over. Once they crossed that line, it made things like “Coffe &TV” more believable when they returned to them, however briefly.
All in all, this album is a jumbled mess of breakup feelings, club hopping, the late 90′s death of British culture, indie pop nuggets, and the implosion of a band that make for a compelling listen from start to finish. This is not another Brit pop album, and this is not a soundtrack to a sunny afternoon- this album is a moody piece to be commiserated with on a grey afternoon
