The strangest of weeks, which includes an unlikely trip to Norway to interview Bruce Springsteen for the BBC, finishes back here, in Essex, three miles away from the small village where I grew up.
Five minutes to the west there’s the farm where I spent two consecutive summer holidays picking fruit, to raise money for buying records. Five minutes to the east there’s the suburbs of Colchester which spawned our heroes. And here in the middle, at the East Anglian Railway Museum, we find the reformed Blur, back at the scene of their first ever gig.
“This is a bit different to the last time we played,” says Damon Albarn, surveying the room after their first four songs. And obviously he’s not wrong. An awful lot has changed, but some things remain the same.
Standing on one of the platforms prior to the gig, I struggle to remember what age I was when I last came here (by law, you never visit tourist attractions on your doorstep - least of all a steam railway).
Which is when it strikes me how civilised tonight feels. People mingle round the picnic tables and sidle back and forth to the kiosk which has become an impromptu bar: friends of Graham’s from college (one of them handing out strawberries); Damon’s parents (apparently, I can’t remember what they look like); and competition winners (with the obligatory vinyl copies of Think Tank to be signed).
Mike Smith – now MD of Sony Records – who I probably first met at a Blur gig at the Bull & Gate 20 years ago when he was a scout for MCA Publishing comes over for a chat. But all the time I am very nervous. There is just too much nostalgia in the air.
For a forward-thinking, constantly evolving band like Blur, this whole concept of reforming to play ‘the old songs’ is one which has been making me uncomfortable for weeks. What if this is some awful Essex cabaret? Some kind of Mockney Music Hall turn? Like a night in watching Dave or UK Gold?
And yet when they start the set – in the refurbished Goods Shed, in front of just over 150 people – all this anxiety just evaporates like, well, steam. They start, knowingly with the oldest song in the set, She Is So High (a favourite from their Seymour days and the lead track on the demo which helped get them signed). And then crash straight into Girls & Boys – when any other band would have kept it wrapped in a blanket for later.
Acknowledging the setting, Albarn, in trademark black and gold Fred Perry, says: “We’ve written a lot of songs about this area and this is one of them,” cueing up Tracy Jacks which in turn is followed by the evil There’s No Other Way (still one of my least favourite Blur songs, which prompts me to sulk outside for five minutes. I know, daft isn’t it?). What is staggering though, is how most of this set stands up. How fresh it sounds and how much you realise you’ve missed them. Were they that good that even now the majority of bands are struggling to catch up?
Also, this is the longest set I’ve ever seen them play. They clock up just over two hours which allows them to reprise not just the hits, but some of their more interesting diversions (including Trimm Trabb, during which Graham Coxon looks ecstatic, the grey-aired Essex Dogs, Colin Zeal – and Battery In Your Leg, one of only two songs from the Think Tank era which make the cut, Out Of Time being the other).
And far from being a cosy romp, they really lean into the performance (Albarn stage dives into the crowd during Advert, which explodes out of Pop Scene at the beginning of the encore). I think this is one of the reasons I’ve always liked them; that they don’t do anything by halves. If there was lot quite a bit of soul-searching over whether or not to embark on these dates during the summer (and I think at one point there was) then it’s because they had to make sure in their own minds that they could do themselves justice. But the energy and conviction – and dare we say it ‘fun’ - was evident here.
I’m still worried that Blur at Glastonbury will be a little cheesy for Your Humble DJ (inevitable with 40,000 people singing Parklife back at them); but really this is a great set tonight, full of twists and turns.
It defied the Britpop caricature. It explored the edginess of the albums. It was actually like re-reading a book you loved, having remembered the plot, but forgotten the depth of the storyline.
Winding up the encore they finish with For Tomorrow and The Universal, which is still stirring the air as I wonder back over the footbridge to catch the last train back to London, reflecting on the Blur I knew when we were younger.
They are still the same people, but more relaxed now. They’ve aged, but they’ve somehow retained their cool. And the songs are the same certainly, but, they’ve taken on a new life in the context of Pop in 2009.
As I say, lots of things have changed, but Blur are back and they’re still the same. In a good way.