In the year 2010 the term ‘Britpop’ is somewhat of a whispered taboo. A blip on an otherwise impeccably presented age for British modern Music. The stylised subculture of Indie has ushered in a slew of credible acts droning on about ‘real issues’ such as political injustice and environmental awareness. Today’s underground scene is populated by Artists signaling a return to the roots of the sixties and seventies when British bands had an important message and initiated an invasion on a global scale.

Before the trilbies and trenchcoats however, the chinrubbers were awash in a sea of burberry, celebrating the simple pleasures of a cup of rosey lee and saucy sexual innuedoes. This unashamedly arrogant attitude would later give birth to Girl Power but in 1995 it was all about the boys, namely a quintessentially Essex quartet known as Blur and a moody mob of Mancunian mouthpieces calling themselves Oasis. The unnecessarily unpleasant ‘battle of the band’s’ that these two figureheads of ‘Britpop’ would wage eventually exterminated this rather indulgent period of pop culture. Blur would live to fight another day, radically reinventing themselves and garnering critical acclaim before their storied existence would climax on a muted note. Oasis however would record far past their peak, morphing into characitures of themselves releasing a series of dull discs before yet another internal implosion that nobody could care less about. ‘No Distance Left To Run’ presents a revealing retrospective of one of the more intriguing acts of the past twenty years whilst also acting as a exclamation mark on the pointless rivalry between two British institutions.

A two disc presentation, ‘No Distance Left To Run’ begins with a compelling film directed by aspiring artists Dylan Southern and Will Lovelace. A sensationally shot piece, the movie follows Blur as they plot their path from grimy rehearsal rooms through to intimate stops at student unions and musky railway museums building up to a triumphant return at Glastonbury 2009. Boasting dazzling cinematography and a soundtrack bolstered by classic cuts from Blur’s seven studio albums the film delivers a stark insight into the delicate relationships that lay at the centre of the band for it’s twelve year inception. Perhaps most intriguing is the differing personalities that form the nucleus of the group being Damon Albarn and Graham Coxon. We are given a glimpse of the tense clashes they have endured since meeting at school going some way to explain the fall out that would see see Coxon’s departure prior to the band’s final lp. It’s easy to forget just how massive Blur were as the film charts their rise from baggy indie darlings to pop megastars. The footage included from their mid-nineties heyday showcases a band consumed by their own success whilst highlighting Coxon’s escalating battles with alcoholism proving their main battles were not with other acts but rather themselves. It makes for emotional viewing made all the more apparent by the image of Albarn slumped over a speaker at Glastonbury, weeping with his head in his hands.

The second disk is an uninterrupted account of the group’s sell out date at Hyde Park in July 2009. The two hour setlist comprises a detailed delve into the bands varied back catalogue and it’s refreshing to see the boys belt through old standards such as ‘Tracy Jacks’ and ‘Sunday Sunday’ without the embarrassment they may have felt following their lauded latter material. ‘Out of Time’ is the only cut provided from the 2003’s Coxon-less collection ‘Think Tank’ and it’s a pleasure to see that geezer from Albert Square acting more Quadrophenia than Eastender as he leads the crowd through an anthemic ‘Parklife’.

‘No Distance Left To Run’ is an apt conclusion to the legacy of a talented troupe of Musicians that may have lost an initial Musical battle but won the fight for their souls.

Four stars

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