Blur- "Look Inside America" (Graham Coxon)

Available on: Blur (1997)

Solo Bits: 2:42-3:09

I've already talked a bit about Graham Coxon on this blog, particularly in regard to how in terms of wedding technical and creative sensibilities, he is basically an unmatched player. Further stoked by the recent release of a video of Albarn and Coxon playing "This Is A Low" (unfortunately acoustic style), I felt that it was time to give this man his due.

Truthfully, Coxon may be an integral component of Blur's sound, but Albarn has proven he is capable of making excellent music without Coxon (Think Tank, Gorillaz, etc.). Blur is just an all-around great band in my opinion, generally underappreciated by my friends in part because the British press has made it a habit of oversaturating its content with talk of Blur and Oasis, as if they are the two standard-bearers of Britpop. I can hardly believe that there continues to be some sort of rivalry between Blur and Oasis fans--not because it is more than a decade after the fact but because I can't believe anyone could consider it a contest at all. Blur is a better band than Oasis in every way, ever since their inception, and I'm sure they still are now. Die-hard Oasis fans perplex me, because their argument will often boil down to the fact that they release songs like "Girls & Boys" that could be construed as being gay. Seriously, though, I will lay out my case:

-Blur is by far the more musically adventurous band, starting off as a Madchester ripoff and branching off into punk, electronica, noise, singer-songwriter Kinks stuff, African music, and pretty much everything else. Their songs, particularly towards the end of their career, are texturally far more interesting and replayable, and they don't seem to depend on a formula.

-Albarn is by far the better songwriter. There's no question, even among the biggest Oasis fan, that Albarn tends to write lyrics that are comprehensible and often quite clever, while Oasis has made a career of headache-inducing non-statements that are meant to sound vaguely rebellious but are, according to Noel Gallagher's own admission, basically filler meant to sound pretty. What kind of idiot utilizes comparisons like "faster than a cannonball"? Albarn is also by far the better tunesmith. If you can point me to a song by Oasis that is as well-constructed and emblematic of a lot of hard work and experimentation as, say, "Coffee & TV," I would like to hear it. Oasis uses typical chords in typical ways.

-Blur is an actual band of creative musicians, not a pair of asshole brothers surrounded by interchangeable studio musicians. I don't care if Andy Bell is the bassist now for Oasis--you certainly can't tell. Both Dave Rowntree and Alex James have individual styles that I believe may be worth talking about (if I ever get around to my "Great Bass Solos" page).

-Most importantly, nobody in Oasis is even remotely in the league of Coxon. Noel Gallagher might think he is the best songwriter in all of England (seriously, has he even listened to "Cigarettes & Alcohol"?), but let's face it, he can barely play. Put aside the fact that he is obviously no innovator--can you think of any guitar part in an Oasis song that is discernibly Gallagherian?

-Perhaps most obviously, they seem to have no problem with the fact that they produce derivative and unadventurous music, and they mock those who choose to do otherwise. I always liked Thom Yorke's response after Liam Gallagher made some comment disparaging Radiohead's music for being too morose and highbrow. He basically likened Oasis' fans to, "middle-class people applauding a bunch of guys who act stupid and write really primitive music. Then people say, 'it's so honest!'" That seems exactly right. 

So anyway, I have ample proof that Oasis is a terrible band. Many critics have noted that a lot of Blur's best work illustrates the tension between Albarn's songwriting and Coxon's playing; I always get the sense that Coxon has no patience for the poppy and pastoral chord changes of Blur's early years and did his best to undermine what could be typical-sounding music by surrounding his lead lines with notes that don't fit harmonically. Coxon's playing is unique because he often chooses not to play the melody of the piece, or at least the chords that Albarn tends to use. He's a restless player, prone to mixing bursts of fuzzy noise with leaden open strings and weird, dissonant arpeggios. An example of his genius at work can be heard in the first nine seconds of "Magic America" off Parklife. What is it that he is even playing here? It sounds like he is playing a lead line that trips over itself and ends on a big, dissonant non-chord. He manages to out-Keith Levene Keith Levene here, who was so fond of trying to find the wrongest notes possible.

In addition, Coxon can simply play as well as anyone. Even Blur's ballads show Coxon's virtuosity to be pretty much engrained in everything he plays--in "Tender," for instance, Coxon manages to make a lead line out of something as banal as a chord change from A to E. Of course, Coxon's reliance on these techniques and his general habit of avoiding bluesy, tonal solos and lead lines has given him a reputation as a "reluctant guitar hero" or an "anti-guitarist." Whatever. He could easily play the sort of derivative motifs of his peers, but his technique is far too personalized. Plus, I'm sure he seems like the kind of guy who just prefers Sonic Youth and Glenn Branca anyway. Like those artists, Coxon doesn't do many typical solos per se, making it difficult for me to find one that really illustrated his skills. "This Is A Low" came to mind, and it is a beautiful moment, as is that moment in the middle of "Coffee & TV" when he stretches out just a few notes past the point of perceptibility. I'm not sure "Look Inside America" is my favorite solo, or even the most representative, but it certainly gets me excited.

So "Look Inside America" is from Blur, the album that was supposed to be Blur's tribute to Pavement as well as a musical departure from the lavishly orchestrated Great Escape. It contains, if you remember, "Song 2," probably the most distorted song to ever become a stadium hit, and "Beetlebum," perhaps the most catchy heroin ditty of all time. "Look Inside America" is a song that goes back to one of Albarn's most common themes, which regards his need to make it big in America while still rejecting American globalization and rampant consumerism. At least that's what I think it is about: I'm too often distracted by Coxon's crunchy ringing chords in the chorus (which admittedly sounds similar to "Country House"). The song adds strings, which is a nice touch, and the whole thing seems to be one of those Blur songs full of swirling backing vocals and lots of Pixies stop-start moments. The solo itself begins as sort of a ridiculous high-octane riff (which follows, oddly enough, the sounds of a harp). It only lasts a few seconds long, and then the harp returns, followed by Graham doing what he does best, playing combinations of open and fretted notes that give it a slight touch of feedback without overcoming what seems to be Graham's shot at providing a completely alternative melody. The solo just jams, even if not that many notes are actually played. It's just so economical and is played with such rhythmic heft (if it were Oasis, they would probably call it "swagger"). It shows just how much control Coxon has over his instrument.

Coxon is the ingredient that makes even the most tossed-off Blur song sound interesting; it's hard to think of a single song of theirs featuring Coxon that doesn't have some sort of mind-blowing moment. How many bands have any instrumentalists that fulfill this sort of function? Santiago comes to mind, although I am always unsure as to whether or not it's Frank Black dictating what he's playing anyway. As far as non-guitarists go, maybe Jean-Jacques Burnel. The way he plays, I'd just listen to whatever recordings I could of him goofing off.

P.S. Damon Albarn is a handsome man.

  

Mahavishnu Orchestra- "Miles Beyond" (John McLaughlin)

Available on: Birds of Fire (1973)

Solo bits: 3:17-4:03

I recently took a class on jazz improvisation with the hopes of immersing myself in one area of music that I found myself extremely lacking. It turned out that there are just some people that aren't meant to play jazz, at least in the sense that we were expected to play it, which would be to play only notes that fit the scale of the chord sign, or to play solos with proper "swing" patterns. These were things I had a difficult time doing. I believe part of my problem was the expectation I had going into the class: I wanted to play jazz like a fusion player, as opposed to anything else, and I wanted to learn in particular how to improvise something wild and off-kilter like what John McLaughlin does on the Mahavishnu Orchestra classic "Miles Beyond."

For those not in the know, John McLaughlin has quite a pedigree, as far as both jazz and rock are concerned. First appearing on the scene as the guitar prodigy in Tony Williams' Lifetime, he is of course most famous for being scouted by Miles Davis, an eerily prescient judge of young talent, and then appearing on his landmark albums "In A Silent Way" and "Bitches Brew." Both albums showed that McLaughlin, among all Davis' musicians, was particularly receptive to Davis' new electric fusion style, so much so that there is even a song on "Bitches Brew" called "John McLaughlin," where he deftly plays against the weird keyboard stabs and funk rhythms.

Like many jazz musicians, Davis was always finding himself in new groups, and eventually McLaughlin left to go do other things. Among his better and more commercially successful ventures was the fusion group Mahavishnu Orchestra, a supergroup which consisted of McLaughlin, Jan Hammer on keyboards, Billy Cobham on drums, Rick Laird on bass, and Jerry Goodman on violin. Inspired by Hendrix and other psychedelic rock musicians, the group made experimental jazz that was commercially palatable due in part to the tunefulness of the songs, as well as the flashiness of the instrumentalists. They released two albums, The Inner Mounting Flame and Birds on Fire, and then lineup drama ensued.

These two albums are benchmark fusion releases and probably my favorite albums to come out of the whole scene, although I admit I'm fairly lacking in jazz fusion knowledge. If you want a fusion album that still has the muscular, riffy electric guitar playing so beloved by rock fans, Birds on Fire is a good place to start. The music is tense and the playing is showy, but never less than interesting, and some of the songs are simply good even without the wanking.

One of those songs is "Miles Beyond," a tune written by McLaughlin obviously meant to honor his former bandleader. The tune pays homage to Davis' cool-jazz style, but the stop-start dynamics are straight out of rock music. It's basically based off an awesome, sinister sort of keyboard lick, off which McLaughlin and Goodman coerce strange noises out of their instruments and each trade teriffic solos.

One important aspect of a solo is how the instrumentalists choose to lead up to it. "Miles Beyond" contains not only a guitar solo but a violin solo, and it's useful to compare the two. The violin solo, done without the use of a bow, displays a lot of deft fingerwork but is played very gently, with minimal instrumental accompaniment. The solo builds up tension just in time for a breakdown, with lots of really out playing by Cobham. It's during this breakdown that the song sounds like it's coming apart--Cobham is flailing, Goodman and McLaughlin are playing squeaky one-note lead lines that sound on the verge of collapse, and then--two snare hits from Cobham and McLaughlin takes off, attacking one note like a bullet and alternating it with what sounds like shrieks or sirens.

McLaughlin is playing what sounds like a lot of 16th notes here, and it's worth noting how Cobham tries to play along with McLaughlin rather than keep rhythm for the rest of the band. The result is extreme intensity, especially for someone like me who is so used to drummers keeping the beat while other members of the band solo. It works extremely well. McLaughlin pulls out a few dive bombs, driving home the speed of his picking rather than the amount of notes that he's playing, then cycling through a few recovery lines that serve to embellish the single-line lead. Towards the end of the solo, McLaughlin slows down as he moves to the top of the neck, playing faster yet again but then ending with a series of staccatto single notes, all the way up to the top of the neck. Then he ends with a burst of rawk lead-playing, and goes back into the lead riff with Goodman.

This is unbelievably tense stuff. The way McLaughlin plays doesn't seem that hard at first, nor does it seem particularly "jazzy," given the amount of distortion and the way he liberally bends the pitches. Still, it shows a remarkable amount of good sense on his part, to break away from the common jazz equation of speedy lead lines separated by clear phrases. He plays like a rock player does, really. Not like Jimi Hendrix, whose playing reportedly made McLaughlin consider doing more rock-oriented stuff, but maybe like Jimmy Page. Surely, what the two had in common was a sense of rhythm so deft that they could make any pattern of notes sound novel. As well as the preponderance for instruments with multiple necks.