Modern Life Is Rubbish (Special Edition)

As a response to the dominance of grunge in the U.K. and their own decreasing profile in their homeland — and also as a response to Suede's sudden popularity — Blur reinvented themselves with their second album, Modern Life Is Rubbish, abandoning the shoegazing and baggy influences that dominated Leisure for traditional pop. On the surface, Modern Life may appear to be an homage to the Kinks, David Bowie, the Beatles, and Syd Barrett, yet it isn't a restatement, it's a revitalization. Blur use British guitar pop from the Beatles to My Bloody Valentine as a foundation, spinning off tales of contemporary despair. If Damon Albarn weren't such a clever songwriter, both lyrically and melodically, Modern Life could have sunk under its own pretensions, and the latter half does drag slightly. However, the record teems with life, since Blur refuse to treat their classicist songs as museum pieces. Graham Coxon's guitar tears each song open, either with unpredictable melodic lines or layers of translucent, hypnotic effects, and his work creates great tension with Alex James' kinetic bass. And that provides Albarn a vibrant background for his social satires and cutting commentary. But the reason Modern Life Is Rubbish is such a dynamic record and ushered in a new era of British pop is that nearly every song is carefully constructed and boasts a killer melody, from the stately "For Tomorrow" and the punky "Advert" to the vaudeville stomp of "Sunday Sunday" and the neo-psychedelic "Chemical World." Even with its flaws, it's a record of considerable vision and excitement.

[EMI's deluxe 2012 double-disc expansion of Modern Life Is Rubbish contains the U.K. version of the 1993 album on the first disc and a host of B-sides and rarities on the second. Opening this collection of flip sides is the non-LP A-side "Popscene," the 1992 single that announced a clear break from Blur's baggy past and ushered in a retro-obsessed present. From there, the B-sides pile up quickly and with them Blur gain considerable momentum: by the end of the disc when they're tossing off defiant beery covers of "Daisy Bell (A Bicycle Made for Two)" and "Let's All Go Down the Strand," their Brit-pop concept is clearly articulated and their musicality is chaotically assured.]