Britpop came crashing onto the music scene in the 90s and turned everything on its head. It wasn’t by accident either. It was a planned attack against the Americanised music that was slowly, but surely taking over the charts at the time.
Blur was one of the first bands to take a chance and rebel against what was happening. They stuck to their guns and stood firm with their homegrown sound, launching Parklife with confidence, taking ownership of their roots, and going completely against the grain.
It worked. Britpop had arrived and suddenly, it seemed as if everyone was jumping on the bandwagon.
By pure chance, your correspondent was there to witness some backstage antics during that period, so grab your hot chocolate and cosy up. It’s story time, kids!
The date was 25th April 1994, and I stumbled into my local record shop to view the latest arrivals. These were the days of CDs, cassette tapes, and vinyl records. Back then, “streaming” was just what happened to you the next day if you chose the hottest curry on the menu.
The first and only item that caught my eye was Parklife by Blur. I’d really got into their previous album, Modern Life Is Rubbish, and having heard a couple of tracks already on the radio, I thought it was worth taking a punt.
What a fucking delight. These were the songs I’d been needing in my life for years. Tales of eccentric characters, reflections on modern-day life, and possibly the best break-up song of all time. I played it over and over.
26th April 1994: I’m reading the morning paper and by pure chance, it falls open at the greyhound racing page. My eyes are drawn immediately to the “Blur Parklife Stakes” at Walthamstow Stadium. I quickly grab the CD and look again at the cover photos. Sure enough, the band members were posing at a greyhound track and it looked like Walthamstow (bear with me kids, there was no Google in those days).
I phoned my mate to ask him if he fancied a trip to the dogs.
We turned up at the track and headed through the crowd towards the bookies enclosure. And there they were; Damon, Graham, Alex, and Dave, being followed around by a guy with a video camera (for footage later used on their No Distance Left To Run documentary). It was the official launch party gathering (it took place a day late due to there being no racing at the track on a Monday).
As they weren’t particularly well-known at the time, no one seemed to be bothering them, so I thought I’d see about that. I walked straight up to Damon and introduced myself as a “fan”. I’m sure I rambled on about the song “To The End” really helping me with a breakup after a difficult week, to which he replied, “A difficult week? It’s only bloody Tuesday!”
I took a few steps back and watched from a distance while I let my embarrassment subside, as the photos were taken and interviews took place. We watched the Blur Parklife Stakes, which was declared null and void after a couple of the dogs decided to turn the race into a boxing match.
At around 10 pm, my mate and I headed back towards the car park, armed with stories to tell our mates back at the pub. But, as it turned out, the night wasn’t over yet. I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Excuse me mate. Do you know where Charlie Chan’s nightclub is?”. It was Damon. “Er…yeah”, I spluttered. It was just around the corner, but I walked him there anyhow.
Deciding that as we’d come this far, it was probably worth sitting it out and seeing just how much further my mate and I could go, we stood behind Damon and drummer Dave Rountree at the entrance of the nightclub.
We were met by a hefty, angry-looking bouncer. “Let’s see your tickets”. Yeah, he was actually asking two members of Blur for their tickets to their own album’s launch party.
“But, I’m the singer”, protested Damon. “And I’m the drummer”, stated Dave.
“And I’m a really big fan!”, I squeaked, pathetically in the background, to much laughter.
A female appeared at the top of the stairs and signalled “OK” to the bouncer. And with that, Damon put one hand on my shoulder and the other on my mate’s and ushered us into the venue.
“You can buy me a drink if you like," he joked. It turned out to be a free bar…
I was in such a bloody daze, that I only have a vague recollection of the next few hours. I remember walking in and seeing indie shoegazers, Lush, standing at the bar, the two guys from Carter The Unstoppable Sex Machine were on the dancefloor, and I accidentally bumped into Neil Tennant. I vaguely remember getting up onto the dancefloor to strut my funky stuff at one point.
Time seemed to go quickly and before we knew it, folks were filing out of the venue. We decided to join them to see if the party was continuing elsewhere. But, no. All that was waiting outside was the Parklife tour bus, ready to whisk the band away to their first venue.
We hung around for a bit of celebrity spotting and were about to head away when Damon appeared. I shoved my camera into my mate’s hands (it was the olden days, folks) and Damon agreed to pose for a picture, and for some reason, he chose a gurning face. My mate wasn’t so lucky. The photo was the last one on the roll of film (see “olden days” comment earlier), so, sadly my pal didn’t get an old-style selfie.
And that was that. The band sped away on the bus and we were left wondering how we’d managed to blag that night out.
For bonus points, we followed them around on tour and managed to get into their Alexandra Palace backstage party where the likes of Mark Lamarr, Justine Frischmann, and Jarvis Cocker were partying hard, with music courtesy of “Blow Up” disco. At one point, the DJ decided to play “Cigarettes and Alcohol”, which Alex James happily danced along to, with a fag hanging out of his mouth. So much for the rivalry.
We also got into a party at one of the venues in East Anglia. It may have been Norwich. It was a quiet affair, but, being the designated driver, I was the only one not drinking. I grabbed one of Alex James’s discarded vodka bottles, rinsed it out, and filled it with water so I could take swigs, and at least look the part. But as I was walking back up the stairs, one of their roadies spotted me, grabbed the bottle, and angrily stated “Those drinks are for the band”, before I’d even had a chance to explain.
I often wondered if I’d had anything to do with Alex James cutting down on the booze. I picture him opening that same vodka bottle a day or two later, and pouring himself a glass, before gasping, “Jesus, this just tastes like fucking water. I’d better pack it in”.
We knew our partying days with Blur were over shortly after “Launch Party 2”, which was in effect, just a re-running of the Blur Parklife Stakes at Walthamstow stadium. This time the dogs behaved, the band headed off to an undisclosed partying location, and the fame and glory they richly deserved.
Ah, the 90s were definitely the good old days; at least the bits I remember, anyway. I bet the 99% I don't remember was awesome too.
