In the simplest terms,
The Great Escape is the flip side of
Parklife. Where
Blur's breakthrough album was a celebration of the working class, drawing on
British pop from the '60s and reaching through the '80s,
The Great Escape concentrates on the suburbs, featuring a cast of characters all trying to cope with the numbing pressures of modern life. Consequently, it's darker than
Parklife, even if the melancholia is hidden underneath the crisp production and catchy melodies. Even the bright, infectious numbers on
The Great Escape have gloomy subtexts, whether it's the disillusioned millionaire of
"Country House" and the sycophant of
"Charmless Man" or the bleak loneliness of
"Globe Alone" and
"Entertain Me." Naturally, the slower numbers are even more despairing, with the acoustic
"Best Days," the lush, sweeping strings of
"The Universal," and the stark, moving
electronic ballad "Yuko & Hiro" ranking as the most affecting work
Blur has ever recorded. However, none of this makes
The Great Escape a burden or a difficult album. The music bristles with invention throughout, as
Blur delves deeper into experimentation with synthesizers, horns, and strings; guitarist
Graham Coxon twists out unusual chords and lead lines, and
Damon Albarn spits out unexpected lyrical couplets filled with wit and venomous intelligence in each song. But
Blur's most remarkable accomplishment is that it can reference the past -- the
Scott Walker homage of
"The Universal," the
Terry Hall/
Fun Boy Three cop on
"Top Man," the skittish,
XTC-flavored
pop of
"It Could Be You," and
Albarn's devotion to
Ray Davies -- while still moving forward, creating a vibrant, invigorating record. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine
