- Music
- 20 Mar 01
Blur axeman, Graham Coxon, releases his second solo LP and, like his 1998 debut, The Sky's Too High, The Golden D is a trip into the speed/trash/hardcore underbelly of America.
Blur axeman, Graham Coxon, releases his second solo LP and, like his 1998 debut, The Sky's Too High, The Golden D is a trip into the speed/trash/hardcore underbelly of America.
It shows, to a certain extent, how much the guitarist contributes to Albarn & Co. creatively, as The Golden D could have been the trashier younger brother of Blur's last two studio albums, albeit with Coxon on all instrumental and vocal duties.
Opener 'Jamie Thomas', a tribute to his favourite skateboarder, sets the scene, a white hot skate-punk concoction than almost bleeds your eardrums, followed closely by the gripping claustrophobia of 'The Fear'.
'Fame And Fortune' is slightly less cacophonic, even if Coxon's lyrics, when audible, are quite violent. He reasserts the breakneck pace soon enough, though: 'My Idea Of Hell' offers jungled staccato power-chords, 'Fags And Failure' is pure punk snot and adrenaline, while 'Leave Me Alone' is all hardcore angst.
'Keep Hope Alive' lets us take a breather. A ballad of sorts, featuring just Coxon and his acoustic guitar, it still maintains its lo-fi credentials with enough minor chords for your average slacker symphony. Then there's 'Oochy Woochy', which can only be described as indie-lounge, and is enjoyable in an annoying sort of way.
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'Lake' is something of a centrepiece, ambient guitar workouts giving way to a streamlined distortion-fest as Coxon lets rip on what is a ferociously powerful instrumental that should have the skinny indie kids in Music Maker emulating in awe on the fretboard.
'That's When I Reach For My Revolver' is the pick of the bunch, though, and stands tall alongside Graham's more celebrated work. The closest Coxon comes to a standard song format, it evokes The Clash more than The New York Dolls, and sounds all the better for it.
The Golden D is infused with the spirits of Sonic Youth, Jane's Addiction, and to a lesser extent, The Beastie Boys, without ever really hitting their heights, nor, it must be said, stooping to their lows. In short, Coxon gets to indulge himself, while keeping the rest of us reasonably entertained instead of truly rivetted.
But if you're just a curious Damon fan, forget it.