Blur The Ballad of Darren Review: Somber, Open-Ended Reflections

Damon Albarn has characterized Blur’s The Ballad of Darren as “an aftershock record, a reflection and comment on where we find ourselves now.” Indeed, the group’s ninth album embodies just that. At its core, it mourns the heartaches, perils of fame, and drug use that the band has grappled with throughout their illustrious 32-year career.

It would be easy, then, for Albarn and company to succumb to creating another typical Blur album that dwells in the past without pushing their music forward in any meaningful way. If not for Alex James’s enchanting basslines, Albarn’s incessant lyrical vulnerability, or the dreamlike orchestration embedded within these songs, it very well could have been just that. Regardless, the album affirms that Blur isn’t ready to get comfortable quite yet.

The Ballad of Darren is Blur’s first album since 2015’s The Magic Whip, and it proves that absence does make the heart grow fonder—or, at the very least, makes the chords tighter. The band’s time apart, spent working on a variety of other projects, no doubt explains the new lyrical and melodic intricacy that informs their collective sound.

“The Ballad” immediately sets the stage—“I just looked into my life”—by pulling listeners into an intimate and reflective space. “I fucked up,” Albarn later confesses on “St. Charles Square,” introducing the theme of substance abuse amid fever-pitched choral screams. Conversely, “The Narcissist” grapples with recovery accompanied by a more jovial beat, which infuses a sense of hope into an otherwise somber album. Elsewhere, angelic background vocals add a divine quality to “Russian Strings,” creating a sound that’s both ethereal and rooted in humanity.

Graham Coxon’s guitar work on “The Narcissist” is perhaps more moving than the lyrics, starting as an understated melody that floods the outro with a catharsis of emotion and sound. Similarly, during the bridge of “Avalon,” he delivers the album’s most captivating riffs as the song reaches a roaring cadence. Coxon’s guitar is more subdued on other tracks, but nearly each one features airy solos that seamlessly blend with enveloping choral and string arrangements.

While The Ballad of Darren may be an emotional journey, it lacks a proper conclusion—though that’s likely by design. As closer “The Heights” reaches a crescendo, it morphs into staticky distortion before abruptly cutting off. It’s a suspenseful, intriguing ending that, perhaps, embodies the way the kinds of struggles depicted in these songs never completely leave us.