It all seems so oddly innocent, like a '90s Britpop update of Cliff's Summer Holiday capers. Essentially a glorified tour film, shot between 1991 and 1993, Star Shaped captures Blur at a major crossroads in their career, as they seek to shed the baggy influences of their debut album Leisure and reinvent themselves in response to the rise of grunge and their own ailing popularity in the UK.
"The whole thing about pop music is you're ripping off as many people as you possibly can,"an improbably baby-faced Damon Albarn philosophises early on.
Leaving aside for a moment the issue of whether an unshown TV special from '68 could capture, as the opening credits suggest, "the spontaneity, aspirations and communal spirit of an entire era" any more accurately than, say, Catweazle or Do Not Adjust Your Set, and regardless of whether you think Beggars Banquet and Let It Bleed are the fulcrum points of a generation or just something that music critics of a certain age should learn to get over, the portents of this cryogenically preserved moment in rock time are undeniable. Look!
Blanche come here haunted by associations— chiefly leader Dan Miller's with fellow Detroiter Jack White. The pair shared several bands before Jack's vault to fame, and moonlighting Blanchers made up half his Loretta Lynn-backing Detroit supergroup The Do-Whaters. Blanche also supported The White Stripes last year, and bunked with them on this UK trip.
McGhie's solo debut is one of those funk records whose price (circa $600) and legend climbs in inverse proportion to the number of people who've actually heard it. Mercifully, it proves to be worth at least some of the fuss. A Studio One veteran who emigrated to Toronto in 1967, McGhie mostly abandoned reggae (save the fabulously amiable "Cool It") in favour of a grab-bag of funk and soul styles. The Sounds Of Joy have an easy grace, and McGhie makes a decent fist of "By The Time I Get To Phoenix". Militant crate diggers, though, will be weeping over the over-priced vinyl.
Now that Oasis have been written into British rock history alongside The Beatles, The Sex Pistols and all those other elder statesmen they so publicly admired and absorbed, 1984's Definitely Maybe survives as a revered, although sometimes distant, memory. These days when Oasis play Glastonbury, there are waves of excitement but no huge hullabaloo about their perfunctory parade of greatest hits, and their albums have ceased to generate the expectation, the queues around the block in Oxford Street, that was once the norm.
"O JOY!"IS NOT THE UNIVERSAL response to the idea of a sofa, a bag of toffees, a long weekend and six Marx Brothers movies to sit through. Inexplicably, there are those whose funny bones are immune to the work of Groucho, Harpo and the rest of the crew. When it comes to the Marx brand of sideways lunacy, seems you either get it or you don't.
This latest DVD set gathers up A Day At The Races, A Night At The Opera, At The Circus, Go West, The Big Store and A Night In Casablanca.
