It's with a scratch that seems to echo the intro of "Beetlebum" (now a classic) that the new album by Graham Coxon, former guitarist of Blur, opens. He has gradually built himself a solo reputation to be reckoned with, decisively stepping away from the memory of the band that made him famous and becoming a "top-tier" name in alternative rock, or rather the never-extinguished front of power pop.
Because in this sixth effort (the second after his lo-fi journey which began in 1998 with "The Sky Is Too High"), Coxon finds a well-defined compositional stability: if in his previous records the bespectacled English musician spanned in a sometimes schizophrenic way from one genre to the other (possibly reminiscent of the same stylistic schizophrenia of past times with Damon Albarn), never has he been able to confidently embrace a decisive shift towards the label of American-style guitar rock as he can now. The first name that comes to mind when listening to the tracks of this interesting work is surely that of Alex Chilton's Big Star (just take two refined guitar pop numbers like "Don't Believe Anything I Say" and "See A Better Day"), especially due to the melodic choices and arrangements. The canvas is of the classic formula "three and a half minutes of distorted guitars on a melody that's catchy and alternative at the same time", so as not to frighten the radio stations while also not turning up the noses of purists (as unfortunately happened in some unhappy episodes in the previous "Happiness In Magazines").
Coxon's loves are all unconsciously paid tribute to in the plots of the 13 songs that form an album as compact as ever: from the more melodic Husker Du (the single "Standing On My Own Again", a number of adolescent punk pop that reached the top 20 in the UK, "I Don't Wanna Go Out" and "You Always Let Me Down"), to the Replacements ("Don't Let Your Man Know", "Tell It Like It Is", "What's He Got"), from Neil Young (the romantic ballad "Flights In The Sea") to the "hit and run" of the Ramones ("Gimme Some Love"), from the early Clash ("I Can't Look At Your Skin") to Pavement's Stephen Malkmus (the quirky and melancholic "Just A State Of Mind") even evoking a vintage Elvis Costello ("You And I", a very probable second single).
A nice album, fun and amused, ideal for those who want to hear a bit of well-played electric guitars and fast and cheekily carefree songs... for a more intimate turn of good old Graham, we can still wait, hoping that sooner or later he will reconsider the dear old Blur.