Blur live at the Barrowlands, Glasgow
20 November 2003
Reviewed by The Guardian

It wasn't like this in the old days. Down the front, half a song into a sold-out Blur gig and no one is being carried swooning over the barrier, losing the plot having found themselves within mauling distance of Damon Albarn. Back in the Parklife wonder years it required military planning to get anywhere near the stage, not to mention SAS endurance skills to stick it out when you got there.

That St John's Ambulance are in for a quiet night is just one indicator of how Blur's star has switched trajectory. Perhaps it's because Damon is knackered after putting in his tuppence at London's anti-Bush demo, but there are detectable waves of ennui emanating from him. "Hello Glasgow. This is Glasgow, right? I'm not going to say anything because, um, I don't know what to say."

They'd be in trouble if they didn't have such a spectacular eight-album back catalogue. Boys and Girls still shines, mostly thanks to the (now bearded, married and teetotal) Alex's magisterial basslines. And there's something quite heartbreaking hearing End of a Century now we're into the new millennium. Badhead gets an unusual live airing, as does the always great For Tomorrow, while Out of Time and Brothers and Sisters from latest album Think Tank sit well with the older classics.

There's no denying that Graham Coxon is missed. Ex-Verve guitarist Simon Tong does an entirely satisfactory job filling his grumpy old shoes, but it seems oddly disrespectful bopping along to Song 2 and Popscene without Coxon twitching along like a loveable rabid dog. So noticeable, in fact, is his absence, that it brings into question whether the Coxonless trio are still really Blur. A band isn't always greater than the sum of its original parts.

 (3/5)                                                                                               Helen Pidd