Paperjam

Blur at Hyde Park, The Virtual vs The Physical

Gigs // Jim // 5th August 2009

As part of some voluntary work I am involved in I recently escorted a couple of post-op transsexuals called “Craig” (formerly Clarice) and “Mal” (formerly Margaret) to see Blur at their big Hyde Park gig a few weeks back. Then I sportingly also ordered the recording of the event.

Can a digital recording of such a gig really convey what it was like to be there? Lets find out...

(NOTE: I've confusing used italics to denote the album experience and bold to distinguish the live gig action, yeah I know - but it was the best idea I could come up with)

Pre gig

Virtual World…
Go to web site. Put in details. Lose ten quid. Wait a couple of weeks while they get their arse in gear and send me the link for the MP3s.

Real World
Meet Clari- err Craig outside the shonky American diner at the bottom of town, Mal turns up there is dodgy food and beer – but not for me as I am feeling all weak and poncey. Ooh.

Onto the train, where it is about a million degrees and some geezer is listening to his phone without headphones. Super.
Hang about. If we move slightly further down the carriage it is all air conditioned and peaceful, which is a result. To celebrate, Craig and Mal do an impression of some kind of discount Pet Shop Boys album cover, likely title: Possibly?

Mal and Craig: Pet Shop Boys, Possibly?

Down to London and Craig is telling the receptionist in no uncertain terms that we definitely do have a reservation. He has the authoritative air of a man who knows that he is completely in the right. Unfortunately he is also a man who is completely in the wrong hotel.

After some quick directions and a saunter in roughly the right direction we arrive at our hotel, have all sorts of fun finding our room, which contains a double bed and what appears to be a sort of cot. Guess where I’m sleeping. “What a fucking dog-hole”, says hotel critic Mal.

Warm Up

Wait for songs to download, copy into iTunes – get beer from fridge. Press play.

We get into the amphitheatre as an afrobeat affair are entertaining the already massive crowd. They are ace, but they are also just finishing.
Get drinks and settle down on a tiny spare bit of grass near an improbably attractive girl. For a moment I forget I am ill, her boyfriend appears and glares at me in a suitably unpleasant manner. I feel ill again.

Vampire Weekend amble on and play the same song ten times in a row – one that sounds like a cast off from Paul Simon’s Graceland with organ sounds and yelping. No one really seems to care, I go to the toilet it is no fun at all but at least I am not a girl – the person/toilet ratio looks like it has been worked out by someone who probably can’t count in their head.

The gig

Blur swoon in to She’s So High sounding really confident, they crash through Girls and Boys, Albarn competing with the crowd as to who is more in tune.

The opening chimes of Tracy Jacks ring out, Coxon managing to drop his voice a few octaves to join in. Great so far, then to really get things cracking an extended start to There’s No Other Way blasts out – more like a rock track than a baggy anthem.

We’ve pushed as far forward as it seems sensible to do so – we’re probably almost in the same postcode as the stage.
Blur kick off and sound cool, if quite a long way away. Someone next to me is having a big domestic “YOU HAVE JUST RUINED THE WHOLE THING NOW”, she says much louder than the chorus to Girls and Boys.

Craig and I jump around like idiots to There’s No Other Way, it’s the 90’s again. The crowd seem mildly confused by the punk stylings of Jubilee – no-one is jumping around now.

“What is this? Are they going to play Tender?” enquires Mal.

Badhead is a great song, but sounds a bit sparse on the recording despite some fantastic crooning action. Mr Albarn gives a dissertation on London architectural history in a slightly embarrassing mockney accent. All is recovered by an epic Beetlebum which the crowd really get into. Out Of Time is twangy and sparse while surprise pick Trimm Trabb starts dull and ends frankly fucking terrifying.

The crowds screams delight at the start of Coffee and TV as well they might, what a great song. The duet in the chorus sounds great.

Tender bores the life out of me for what seems about an hour. I go to the toilet. The crowd are still trying to sing it as Country House kicks in at the start of the nominal “disc 2”.

The wind is blowing the wrong way but Badhead still sounds great, this was my theme tune when I was in my first year at uni; perfect soundtrack for hangovers and being messed about by women – I’ve come a long way since then.

Beetlebum is huge , but the sound at the end isn’t great, the domestic next to me seems to have reached decree nisi stage.
All gets a bit dull until the scary ending of Trimm Trabb and then the monotony of Tender is relieved (ho ho) by Mal pissing in a bottle while we stand guard.

He finishes as the song does. “Are they going to play Tender” he asks.

Crikey, who’d have thought that they’d play Oily Water, still it kind of works, without being as shrieky and cathartic as on Modern life Is Rubbish, well until a scary siren kicks in. Ouch.

Straight in to Chemical World to avoid any uncomfortable silences – sounds a bit stuttering at times but there are all sorts of guitar torturing antics going on.

Oooh sudden ending. Proto-parklife Sunday Sunday bores me and I skip it half way through to err, Parklife. Angry Phil Daniels enquires as to his scooter and they race through it.

Oily Water is a signal for the chaps to go and get a drink. I ain’t fussed but I don’t fancy getting left on my own.

At Hyde Park: The stage, Is a long way away

Get a bit of space towards the left and side and wait while they procure beer and Coxon wrings Chemical World out of his guitar. “Yes. Yes” yell the crowd like a bunch of sarcastic porn stars with learning difficulties.

Sunday Sunday and Parklife gett the crowd going, but our attention is distracted by some blokes pissing at each other and a girl passing out. Craig leaps into action and doesn’t grope her in any way at all as he helps her to her feet. What a gent.

End Of A Century sounds just like the version off the Live At The Budokan album, To The End is admirable but is missing a certain je ne sais quoi without any French chanteuse action.

Marvelously they follow up with the shipping forecast miserabilism of This Is A Low. Great.

Piss fighting, girl swooning ceases for a bit so the crowd can enjoy a trifecta of Blurs more sombre moments. This Is A low almost brings a tear to my eye, or is that the smoke from the organic Lebanese BBQ?

Mal has started taking to some Scottish people one of whom has an entertaining cleavage that Craig brings to my attention. “Just your sort of thing squire” he notes. “Are they going to do Tender?” Mal asks his new, now confused looking, sweaty sock mates.

The encores kick off with great lost single Popscene and a blaring, superb Advert. Not what you would expect from a bunch of 40 somethings with pilots licenses and cheese farms. A long drawn out beat leads us into Song 2, which the crowd are already woo-hooing long before it kicks in.

A very scary Death Of A Party throws me a wrong’un before the beautiful inevitable For Tomorrow rounds things off, well it would do but they insist on doing The Universal last although it seems like an anti-climax coming after their finest song.

No-one near me seems to know what to make of Popscene or Advert – I don’t care because this is exactly the sort of thing I love as Blur cut loose with the sort of thing that I remember seeing them do in the Starshaped era, albeit with less alcoholism and injuries.

The slow intro to Song 2 isn’t fooling anyone “Woo-Hoo” yells everyone in the nearest square 5 miles. The euphoric mood evaporates as Death Of A Party creeps in and sends a shiver up our collective spines.

For Tomorrow is just marvellous and to be honest although I’m not a huge fan, The Universal it has to be said is fairly fucking good.

Post Gig

Sit in a cab that doesn’t move for 20 minutes and then try to sleep on what seems to be four milk crates covered with a tarpaulin.

So, In summary

It wasn't a bad gig, the weather was great and Blur were marvellous, playing huge chunks of their unrivalled back catalogue. It was just too big though and although I was a bit under the weather I still don't think I would have enjoyed the slightly iffy, piss being thrown everywear atmosphere even I was tip-top.

The recording is pretty good value at a tenner for 25 tracks and is a good document of the event. however I don't think it is as good as Live At the Budokan, that album in particular has an absolute killer version of For Tomorrow on it.