1993: directed by Dwight Clarke

A.K.A. "Hey, hey, we're the Blurries, and people say we Blurry around!"

Really tall glass buildings surround a woodsy carpark somewhere in London. A yellow car and a beat-up old caravan and Blur are situated within it.

Alex James is touching his toes, because he's so sportif. (And there's some oil shale in Azerbijian that the Author would be interested in selling you.) Straigtening up, he blesses the universe with a teasing glimpse of his belly. Far out, indeed. If the Viewer can get off the pause button long enough to move on, she or he will also see Graham, in old-man chic tweed sport coat, seated in a folding chair, reading the paper, playing with a football (soccer ball, for us Yanks) and a cute little dog with his foot. Dave is seated at a small table, cooking up something in a skillet.

Damon, yawning, emerges from the caravan in a twee jumper and jeans, as perky as the geraniums outsides the caravan. Singing, he gets jiggy - literally - starts bouncing around and being Britain's Sweetheart. The Author feels an almost overwhelming urge to smack him and go watch a White Zombie video. And yet he's so charming. Ugh.

Alex keeps exercising with a dynamic tension rubber band machine, also bouncing up and down, his lovely shiny hair floating with that Hi-Pro glow. Graham continues, quite convincingly, to pretend to be old. He leafs through the paper. One headline screams "Boys Will Be Girls". Looking at Supermodel of the Year Alex James and that fluttery twit Albarn, one does not doubt its accuracy.

Switch to a tenement rooftop in a different part of London. Damon prances about, having shed his jumper. Graham, in anorak, looks a bit dodge. Dave runs around with a huge can with a skull-and-crossbones spraypainted on it. Some children look on with confused, amused grins. An Old Soldier, maybe forty-five at most, walks past, his lapel stiff with mock decorations. Damon curls up inside an empty toxic waste drum and looks incredibly tiny and comfy and childish. On the playground, Damon tempts fate, goosestepping and hopping - kids on bicycles ride past, nonplussed.

Back at the caravan, Damon has put a metal strainer on his head. In horror, the strainer makes a break for it and falls off, not wishing to be part of this absurd spectacle. Graham walks behind An Old Soldier, mocking his measured steps. The Author half expected Graham to mug the Old Soldier and throw him off the roof, but at the last minute, Mr. Coxon thinks better of it and breaks away.

At the Kick Horns part of the solo, we get a little Sgt. Pepper reference: a marching band trombonist polishes the bell of his horn. Football is showing on the BlurTV, which is vintage and black & white and has a crappy picture - the Author surmises that really good televisions were outside of the budget of Blur until after Parklife was released.

An Ugly Mum in a hideous hot-pink shirt wheels her toddlers across the tenement rooftop area and through the Blur gents, who ignore her. She and the children ignore Blur. Dave hangs out by his toxic waste collection. It's just like the real London.

At the punk/organ part of the solo, all hell breaks loose. In double-time speed, Blur run inside the caravan, which starts shaking like they're wrestling crocs in there. If the caravan's a-rockin', don't bother knockin'... Inside the caravan, Dave grins wickedly while he does the washing-up. Oh bless you Dave, you're sorted, you are, and you looked mighty fine back then with your carroty dye job and up to your elbows in soapsuds. Oh screw all ths lyrical genius, brilliant guitar playing, and lickable kneecaps - a man who does the washing-up really gets the Author hot. Cut to Graham outside, walking amongst the kids and old folks. Damon falls asleep in front of the BlurTV, showing some ambigious art or porno film (it's so hard to tell the difference these days). Graham and Alex goof at the camera, Graham's glasses all askew on his face and Alex with a manic gleam that does not decrease his attractiveness in the slightest.

Dogs! Moshing! Insanity! Roughhousing! HP Sauce! Sausages! Geraniums! London on E!

At long last Damon brings out dinner - a roast chicken on a platter. Now, what's all this about? Blur were all vegetarians at this point. Is it ironic? Are they being sarcastic? The Author cannot tell anymore! It's a feeding frenzy, except that they're not eating anything of course. It's meat, duh. Damon, not horrified at the spectacle of an animal being killed for the fleeting pleasure of human consumption, gleefully decimates the chicken, displaying admirable carving skills straight out of Joy Of Cooking and how incredibly huge his mouth can be when he wants it to be. The Author cannot help but conjecture whether or not Mr. Albarn is a closed-mouth kisser, a discreet open-mouth kisser, or a Lamprey. If he is the latter, she must reluctantly say No Thanks, because a mouth that size would easily consume half her face. Dave performs cooking acrobatics, flipping those Linda McCartney vegetarian sausages around in the pan like he's the winner of Iron Chef Quorn Battle. Massive boner for Dave. Alex washes the yellow car's windshield, doing a wonderful impersonation of a Hollywood starlet/$20 whore washing cars for a promotional. The Author has twenty dollars, but no car.

The Blur members play with the dog and the ball. Damon shows off his mad footie skills by deflecting the ball off his head, because he really is sportif and he can beat Oasis on the field. Alex juggles. Later, he performs an ocular surgery at the summit of K2 with only a Swiss Army knife and a bottle of Skyy, proves string theory to be correct, wins the house at Monte Carlo, joins Cirque de Soleil, and brings peace to the Congo. Dave makes beans.

Ugly Mum and her ugly kids somehow manage to fall asleep in folding chairs, in the glimmering afternoon sunlight next to a pastoral fence, with the looming glass buildings towering overhead.

CUTE FACTOR: extremely high. One cannot convincingly assign "cutest" to any member.
VIDEO QUALITY: The Monkees TV series.
FUCKED UP FACTOR: certainly Graham and Alex are lit. Probably Dave as well. Jury's out on Damon.
OVERALL GRADE: B