Liberty Lunch
Sunday, February 4 I pity the fool who craves rockstardom in America. Who wants to be championed
by a populace that has so little taste or sense of humor? And to be heralded by
the cool crowd — even worse: The alternative brats are a moody, cannibalistic
lot, eating their own, then puking them up when they fall into the grabby hands
of those meddling masses.
Blur’s Damon Albarn is a great many things — a complex, ironic songsmith,
paramour of Elastica’s Justine, lead singer for, depending on the weather that
day, the biggest band in England — but he’s no fool. While the other biggest
band in England, Oasis, monopolizes American radio with “Wonderwall,” Blur is
dropping by the states for a two-week tour in support of their hugely
successful (in England) fourth album, The Great Escape. The
tour’s brevity was borne of pragmatism, not disdain for America, and Albarn is
a bit miffed at the suggestion that Oasis’ extensive touring laid more
groundwork for their recent success.
“It sort of pisses me off when people say they did a lot of groundwork,”
intones the Londoner about those Northern working-class lads. “I’ve been coming
here for six years — isn’t that a lot of groundwork?”
Although Oasis have enjoyed more American success than Blur, the chances of
the rivalry re-igniting over here is slim, as it’s an entirely British
phenomenon.
“I tell you what it was,” Albarn explains. “‘Parklife [Blur’s ’94
release] was the first album from an alternative band to sell a million records
[in England]. It had a similar effect in Britain as Nirvana had in America.
Oasis was the next band to get towards that amount. This year [’95], they sold
more than us, but last year they were always our sort of younger brothers. We
won all the Brits [Awards], and they were `Best New Band.’ Both bands were in
such a league of their own compared to everyone else.”
And in the great British tradition of football rivalries, class wars and
tabloid press blood-lust, the underdogs, Noel and Liam Gallagher of Oasis,
started the brawl. Not that anyone over here really cares. Hell, we didn’t even
really get a lot of England’s most influential bands — the Kinks, for
instance. Most of their songs were just too… you know, too….
“British,” Albarn concludes flatly. “I’ve had conversations with Ray Davies,
and we’ve sat in balmy parks in South London and talked about the fact that no
one understands us in America.”
Be glad we don’t, dear boy. You’re far better off letting the rest of the
world pay your bills. Just watch what we do to those Gallagher boys in a year
or two: “I don’t believe that anybody will feel the way they do about
them now.”
— Mindy Labernz
This article appears in February 2 • 1996 and February 2 • 1996 (Cover).