Graham Coxon live at the Lexington, London
13 May 2009
Reviewed by The Independent

Fingerpickin' good new licks

Few guitarists have done as much as Blur's Graham Coxon to decouple virtuoso instrumental ability from the cocksure arrogance which traditionally accompanies it. For his latest solo album, his producer, Stephen Street, who was also responsible for much of Blur's early output as well as that of The Smiths, seems to have drawn Coxon out of his shell. Rather than reinforce the style which made him famous, Coxon has taken the opportunity to branch out into folk ballads like "In the Morning" and guitar lines more reminiscent of Nick Drake and John Martyn than the growling Britpunk riffs for which he is best known. The new album, The Spinning Top, which is played in full and in order, sounds fresh and intricate, and bursts with an urgency borne, perhaps, of Coxon's imminent re-absorption into Blur for a summer of performances set to include Glastonbury and Hyde Park.

Tonight, however, the great outdoors could not seem further away, with a hardcore few hundred fans holed up in an unlikely looking Islington pub for a performance of material from his seventh studio album, accompanied only by a bass player and drummer.

On "Look into the Light", tonight's opening track, the layers of reverberation and effects which characterise the song's recorded incarnation are peeled back, and the revelation is twofold: first, that Coxon is a very good live guitarist indeed, even at the folk finger-picking he claims to have learnt only recently, and, second, that the fragility of his singing voice lends a delicate charm to his delivery. Over the course of the set, his gruff mumble twists itself around the delicate lyrics of his songs, giving the performance a palpable sense of melancholy and strain which are exaggerated by the awkwardness with which they are delivered.

The calm of the set's acoustic opening numbers is broken by the punky "If You Want Me", and as Coxon contorts himself over his battered Telecaster, it's just possible to make out a smile on the face of the Britpop hero. This is the Coxon of "Song 2" and "Chinese Bombs", and the staccato sonic blasts of his guitar are punctuated by a falsetto vocal which bears more than a passing resemblance to Blur frontman Damon Albarn's trademark style. Echoes of Blur's work and Coxon's previous output are never far away, a fact of which he seems highly aware.

Soon seeming more relaxed than during the set's twitchy beginnings, Coxon's burgeoning confidence seems to follow the path trodden by The Spinning Top, which lays out the narrative of a man's journey through life, from the bitter heartbreak of "Sorrow's Army", to the winsome "November". The latter, a harrowing psychedelic rumination on mortality which seems to channel the spirit of Nick Drake, is the song which closes the album and, tonight, leads into the two covers which conclude the performance.

There have been two Coxons on display live of late. The first is every inch the art-school punk and the other is the considered solo artist determined to fulfil his recently stated musical aim of showing, "how dynamic and rich and heart-thumpingly raw acoustic instruments sound, at a time when acoustic music seems either too cute or too soppy." It is this unplugged troubadour who eventually wins the day, drawing the audience into a hushed reverence with a timely rendition of "Babe, It Ain't No Lie", a song by the recently departed folk pioneer Davey Graham.

With such a strong performance of wonderfully fresh material, which explores Coxon's full potential as a musician, there must be some fans witnessing Coxon on this form who feel like the Blur reunion might have come at the worst possible time for a solo star who, after a protracted period in the notorious hinterland of the musical side-project, finally seems to be threatening mainstream success.

 (4/5)                                                                                          Jack Riley