Columnist Geoff Carter: Multifaceted talents of Blur have crystal-clear appeal

Geoff Carter

Friday, Dec. 15, 2000 | 9:20 a.m.

Geoff Carter's music column appears Fridays in the Sun. Reach him at geoff.carter@vegas.com or 992-7936.

The last wave of Britpop barely fazed me. When the parade started a few years back, I sidestepped the Oasis-London Suede-Elastica juggernaut and let it just roll by, hopefully in the direction of a tall cliff. And while I may be on the Radiohead bandwagon today, I'm pretty sure I was the last to step up. It's stacked five-high in critics, audiophiles and Brad Pitt; there's no room for me. My boots are dragging in the dirt.

That's not to say I haven't wanted to run away with a few of the circus freaks. The arty ambitions of Mansun and Kula Shaker appealed to me, as did the buzzing, literate anger of Pulp and Manic Street Preachers.

And then there's Blur. When I finally connected the band to all of its hits -- shortly after hearing the band's brilliant 1997 album -- Blur had gone well beyond Britpop into near-perfect hit pop. Blur isn't so much a band as a cocktail mixer, one where David Bowie, Pink Floyd, John Barry, the Smiths, 10cc, Petula Clark, Madness and heaven knows who else can connect and collaborate. I slapped myself upside the head when Blur finally dawned on me: I'd been wasting time watching a processional of pasty-faced shoegazers while a real party was raging on the next street.

Every song on "The Best of Blur" -- from the bouncy disco stomp "Girls & Boys" to the introspective "The Universal" -- speaks of a band that should have a much larger American presence. At the very least, it's a catalogue of hits that actually sounds like a catalog of hits: if every one of these songs didn't go to number one in the band's native land, or anywhere else, they probably topped the charts in some other dimension -- one where the inhabitants have never heard of Britney Spears, and the populace isn't so particular about pop-star haircuts.

Drop the needle anywhere. The edge on "There's No Other Way" hasn't dulled in the nine intervening years. "For Tomorrow" and "Parklife" could have held their own against prime Kinks. The U.S. hit "Song 2" can still punch its weight as a flat-out rocker. And the curious garage rock-electronic hybrid "On Your Own" would have earned Blur "Kid A"-sized critical raves, had the band had the same publicist that pushed Radiohead's head record into the Top 10 fresh out of the box.

"So take me home, don't leave me alone/I'm not that good but I'm not that bad," sings Damon Albarn, against a chattering chorus of guitar effects and synthesizer bleats. Then he tips his hand: "I dream to riot -- oh, you should try it." You could do worse than pick up this collection, and bust up that mad parade.