Britpop reunited: Blur's Graham Coxon

Blur reunites in the U.K. this summer, as the band's guitarist releases his most acclaimed solo
record to date. Jon Wilks of Time Out Abu Dhabi recently caught up with Graham Coxon to talk about a little bit of both.

It’s been said that Graham Coxon is a nice bunch of guys to be around. Arguably the most talented guitarist of his generation, he has spent a somewhat schizophrenic career flitting between any number of genres and styles, most recently involving himself with Peter Doherty’s punkish noise, while simultaneously masterminding Spinning Top, a wonderful new acoustic record that demonstrates an intricate side to his playing, hitherto unknown. Oh, and he’s also mid-rehearsals for this summer’s hottest ticket, the Blur reunion, which will see the one-time kings of Britpop take the stage together for the first time since 2000. It’s a schedule that leaves us with a lot to talk about, so let’s begin with the new folk record, shall we…
‘This isn’t a folky album,’ he snaps, Time Out hastily chastened for our devil-may-care
attitude to genre labelling. ‘There aren’t any folky reference points. It’s nothing to do with
folk music.’ It should be noted that our opening exchange had been convivial – docile,
almost. Coxon really comes alive when talking music, and his interest in the British folk
scene of the late 1960s, the era that Spinning Top appears to be most inspired by, seems
expansive and ongoing. For a man reputedly a little chaotic, he seems to know exactly what
he’s aiming for. ‘It’s to do with the process people were putting folk music through in
the ’60s; to do with the jazz elements being brought in, and the swing elements being
brought in.’ We get the feeling that he’s been misinterpreted before. ‘It’s nice for the music
to be understood and praised. It doesn’t happen that satisfactorily often enough. A lot of
journalists are allowed to just do their thing – bulls**t their way through it, really. There
are a few bad apples spoiling the whole crate of, err, journalists.’

There’s no question that Spinning Top sees Coxon at the height of his creative powers.
From the off, it glistens with sparkling guitar lines and surprising arrangements – an
Eastern string band here; a Latin percussion groove there. The opening three tracks are
predominantly acoustic, which may account for the apparently offensive ‘folk’ label that
follows the album around (there’s no escaping the influence of Nick Drake on ‘Look into the
Light’). Just a little further in, however, and it’s business as usual – the angry Telecasters of
‘If You Want Me’ and ‘Caspian Sea’ suggesting a level of debt to the Beatles’ White Album
that hasn’t been heard in Coxon’s music since Blur’s ‘Beetlebum’. ‘I love making big noises,’
he smiles, almost childlike. ‘These solo shows  I’m doing now are pretty humble. The soundsyou make on an acoustic guitar… it’s a high maintenance instrument. You have to tickle
it comfortably. And then the electric ones you can bang and the sound will go on forever. I
enjoy them both.’

Much has been made of Spinning Top being a concept album, ostensibly dealing with the life of a man from birth to death. ‘I realised that some of the songs suggested events that could be in someone’s life.’ His own, perhaps? ‘Err, no, because I haven’t ever been shot and then brought back to life by a spirit from the Caspian Sea!’ Our flimsy line of questioning rumbled, Time Out turns quickly to the Blur issue. Isn’t it difficult, we wonder, to return to a hugely successful band when you appear to be at the height of your solo career? ‘I never really feel about it that way – that I’m riding the high point of my solo career,’ he replies. ‘But it’s brilliant to be told you’re doing your best stuff when you’re 40. I love to go back to the group and play interpreter to Damon’s madness… and make big noises.’ Ah, the big noises again. They seem to mean a lot to him.

Some observers have suggested that the release of Spinning Top is some kind of
subconscious attempt to detract from the big Blur reunion, undoubtedly the bigger of
the two events. He’s certainly had the album under his belt for a while (‘I recorded it about
a year ago, then I was doing the artwork, resting and enjoying it for a year on my own’), so
the timing of its release is open to interpretation.

However, he genuinely seems up for the summer gigs with his old friends, and Britpop
Graham (supposedly obtuse; given to Blurrelated suicidal tendencies, if recent tabloid reports
are anything to go by) seems thankfully absent. He tells us the fortnightly rehearsals
are about to step up to a daily schedule, that they’re going well, and that he’s not nervous at
all. ‘I think the shows will just be fun,’ he says, adding with a touch of loneliness, ‘this has
been the hard work, really – these dates on my own.’ Has he found that the old Blur classics
have come back to him easily? ‘They never go anywhere. I’m a bit like that – I’m just straight
there. I’m a bit photographic in many ways.’ Our conversation winds up in a friendly
chat about his favourite late ’60s folk albums, (in case you’re taking note, he recommends
the first album by The Incredible String Band: ‘There are a lot of embarrassing songs on
that, but there are two or three really good ones’; any of the early Davy Graham albums;
Bert Jansch’s Dazzling Stranger, which he says is ‘lovely, as a collection’), and we leave
wondering which of the Grahams that we met today he’d most like to be. Given that his conversation naturally relocates to Les Cousins folk club, London, 1969, we think it might be
Folky Graham. We wouldn’t say that to his face, though. He might clobber us with one
of his big noises.

Spinning Top is out now on Transgressive Records, available from www.amazon.com.