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Dave Rowntree

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Courtesy of Britpop Memories

part 1/2: interview with Damon, NME – 11 January 1997

We Were Smiling When We Wanted To Be Screaming

So we’ve already seen a changed Damon Albarn in the first of our two-part BLUR exclusive. But what of the others? Have they undergone transformation? Has Graham finally sobered up? Has Dave gone back on the booze? And has Alex finally moved out of the Groucho? JOHN MULVEY finds the answers. Shoots you sirs: MIKE DIVER

Sometimes, confronting Blur these days it’s a bit like dealing with a flock of bright-eyed born-again Christians. They have repented the Faustian pacts they struck for success. They have renounces superficiality, and flippancy, and glibness, and admitted they weren’t wild about the giant POP! millstone of ‘Country House’.

They have opted for honesty and self-discovery. They have turned their back on the Bacchanalian excesses that the ever-generous world of showbusiness can offer (all of them, that is, except Alex – but we’ll get to him later).
They’ve got their heads together, and sorted their lives out and reconciled themselves to their art, and… well, thank God ‘Beetlebum’ and the forthcoming album ‘Blur’ are sharp, eclectic and fundamentally very, very good records, or else we’d be faced with the healthiest and yet most ill-advised conversion to the path of righteousness this decade.
    Miraculously, though, it’s worked. Last week, we heard how Damon Albarn has embraced less commercial and, perhaps more personally satisfying music with a combination of self-effacement over past egotism and still-fiery confidence in his own talent. But Graham Coxon – hardcore aficionado, reluctant Modfather, fabulously f***ed up guitar anti-hero – has undergone an even more remarkable transformation.

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Inside Blur’s ‘Most Unexpected’ Return

The U.K. legends reunite for their first album since 2015 — and even their own rhythm section sounds surprised at how much fun they’re having

by Simon Vozick-Levinson

THIS TIME LAST year, the four members of Blur had no plans to make an album together anytime soon. Then they heard that they might have a chance to play Wembley Stadium this summer. “You can’t say no to that,” says drummer Dave Rowntree, 59. “It’s the most iconic venue in the U.K., really. We certainly weren’t playing Wembley at the height of our so-called fame in the late Nineties.”
Since they split for the first time 20 years ago, the once and future bandmates have followed four very different paths. Singer Damon Albarn, 55, played Coachella this spring with his other band, Gorillaz; guitarist Graham Coxon, 54, recently published a memoir about creativity and addiction; bass player Alex James, 54, hosts a yearly food and music festival at his dairy farm in the English countryside; and Rowntree just put out his solo debut after a number of years working in local politics.
Blur aren’t broken up anymore — they’ve played a handful of reunion shows in the U.K. and abroad every few years starting in 2009, to the delight of their fans. In their home country, they’re arguably more beloved now than they were at their peak. But as of last year they’d managed to complete only one new album since reuniting: 2015’s The Magic Whip, an improbable coup that Coxon stitched together from a set of studio jams recorded between gigs in Hong Kong. “That’s eight years ago,” says James. “Even when we actually split up, it didn’t take this long to get back together again.”

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Blur: Holding on for tomorrow

Back with a stunning new album following their enormous stadium tour, Blur’s Graham Coxon and Dave Rowntree tell us why Blur are still the least nostalgic reunion band around.

by Lisa Wright

For a band whose sporadic reunions consistently provoke gleeful fan furore, whose back catalogue sits objectively within the top tier of Britain’s best and who sold out Wembley Stadium’s 90,000 tickets in literally two minutes for the first date of their current comeback run, Blur have never been interested in being a nostalgia outfit. Their last get-together in 2015 brought with it ‘The Magic Whip’ – the band’s first album since 2003 – and now comes ‘The Ballad of Darren’: a melodically-rich addition to their canon that continues to push the quartet’s story forward.

“We like to have something out if we’re gonna do shows otherwise it’s like we’re doing it for the money or something – which is not true actually,” says guitarist Graham Coxon, aggressively ruffling his hair as if trying to expel even the notion of a reunion cash cow from his head. Joined on Zoom today by drummer Dave Rowntree, it’s not that the pair aren’t proud or interested in their past, but they’re just far more invested in the present. As Dave puts it: “We’re not wistful people. We don’t sit around going, ’Remember that time…’ We’re rather more in the moment than that.”

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Blur: “Every band had to have a political agenda, and there was this sixth form outlook on whether the bands meant it or not”

Back with their latest masterwork, The Ballad Of Darren, Britpop heroes Blur talk reinvention, Irish memories, ’90s chaos, Elvis, The Pogues and a whole lot more.

Summer is often known as the silly season in news media, but on the Saturday morning I’m due to meet Blur in Dublin city centre, it’s the opposite of a slow news day. The Ryan Tubridy payments controversy continues to rage – leading to Oireachtas hearings the following week – while in Russia, the Wagner group has commenced its ill-fated rebellion against the Russian government.

Remarkably, by the time Blur take to the stage in the grounds of Malahide Castle later that night, a truce has been brokered by Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko, who’s also invited the Wagner leader, Yevgeny Prigozhin, into exile. Such tumult seems an especially long way away when I arrive in a virtually deserted Grand Canal Square, which is basking in glorious summer sunshine.

In the close-by Marker hotel, I’m greeted by a rep from Blur’s record company, who tells me the band will be down shortly. The brief wait allows me to focus in the reason we’re here: Blur’s ninth album, The Ballad Of Darren.

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Blur, England’s latest hit makers

Jud Cost seeks out England’s dreamy pinup and comes up with… the drummer.

I’m sitting in front of my Mac in the dead of winter with the headphones on at two in the morning – slapping one Blur album after another into the CD player – in a last-ditch effort to re-kindle some enthusiasm about finishing off an assignment that’s been hanging around on my calendar for way too long. But to tell the truth, I lost interest about four months ago, three Virgin publicists, and two Blur tours ago. And that was long before Christmas (and a partridge in a pear tree).

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On 25th March 2020 Dave Rowntree hosted an amazing Twitter listening party for Blur’s Parklife. Here are all his tweets, never-seen-before photos and other super rare stuff. Thank you Dave!

Right, let’s get this Listening Party underway!
I’m going to drop the needle on Parklife at 10pm UTC exactly and listen along with you, posting my memories of the album, and pictures of things I’ve kept from around that time.

I used to keep a photo album of our reviews and articles. Then things got overwhelming, so I had to stop. But I’ll post some pics from it.

ET_I7l9WkAARmLB Read More

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I ate myself, I am a pie

– “Hello Mailbox/332 2.54 am. You have one message in your mailbox…”

– “Hello Damon. It’s Brendan. Sorry to call you at such a ridiculous hour in the morning. I’ve just had a call from Karen at Parlophone and she says Steve Sutherland is going absolutely mental. He needs the piece, err, now… because they have to work on it today for the deadlines. Can you fax it through to the office now, or when you get up… end of mailbox. Thank you.”

– Thank you, Mailbox. I’m in a hotel in Magic America. There is a Strauss waltz piping through the hallway and someone is listening to the porn channel at full volume next door.

What follows are a few obscure thoughts about pop people and about myself.

Thought 1
Pop people are defects. Pop people are funny in the head and the more pop they get, the funnier their heads become.
Pop begins in bedrooms and ends up in supermarkets. Read More