When Graham Coxon parted ways with Blur prior to the group's 2003 release, Think Tank, it was evident the lead axe-man had experienced quite enough of Blur's frivolous, occasionally groundbreaking genre-hopping and cause celebre sophistry. Happiness in Magazines emphatically dispels any remaining speculation, proving Coxon as stubbornly fond of American-style power-pop as his former band seemed to be before they cozied up to the commodious confines of international stardom. As it happens, Coxon's solo releases have proven him not only the most prolific member of Blur, but also the least adventurous. Fortunately, with Happiness in Magazines, his by-the-numbers approach to songcraft has finally yielded its most copious rewards.
Exploring the vacated ghosts of stale forms, Coxon has breathed new life into some of rock's most bankable clichés. Throughout its 12 tracks, Happiness in Magazines shudders to deviate far from its core triptych of guitar, bass and drums. Only during the radio-ready ballad "All Over Me" is the textural stasis broken by the presence of strings and a sporadic synth arpeggio-- so it's a good thing that Coxon's dexterous, liberally multi-tracked guitar playing is diffuse and virtuosic enough to maintain interest. On the structurally staid blues riffing of "Girl Done Gone", his humid, fuzzed-out playing compensates for an uninspired vocal performance, while slyly contradicting the minimalist approach to blues-rock favored by bands like The White Stripes or The Black Keys. In fact, Happiness in Magazines is a record full of contradictions. Sidestepping the mainstream by dint of utter familiarity, Coxon has found a harmonious paradox.
Of course, there are dry spots. "Hopeless Friend" shamelessly quotes The Who's "A Quick One (While He's Away)" verbatim, a technique favored in jazz, but an awkward fit in rock for the form's historical irreverence. Elsewhere, the bullhorn-belted vocals and irascible post-punk of "People of the Earth" recall The Fall, yet the song ultimately falls flat, feeling like a haggard anachronism.
Still, in an era where revivalists are often pitifully short on ideas, frontloading records to the point of redundancy, Coxon has managed a seemingly obsolete feat: a blockbuster middle section. From the opening guitar peals of "Girl Done Gone" through the readily anthemic chorus of "Freakin' Out", Happiness in Magazines loses nary a step, turning in a handful of candidates for Rock Single of the Year. "Bittersweet Bundle of Misery", replete with blithe acoustic strumming, rudimentary vocal harmonizing, and two-step bassline, is one of the most charmingly ironic love songs to grace record this year-- even if it does bear a remarkable similarity to Blur's Coxon-penned "Coffee and TV". "Freakin' Out" spins an unduly filched riff and a paltry lyrical cadence into an indulgent nugget of pop bliss. But the pinnacle is clearly "All Over Me", the album's most visceral song and its best stab at constructing something wholly new from entirely recycled parts.
As Picasso said, "Bad artists copy. Good artists steal." It's obvious that Graham Coxon follows no beat but that of his own drummer. And if that means brazenly copping riffs from rock's rapidly mummifying origins, so be it: Happiness in Magazines, while spotty, maintains balance on rocky ground, acknowledging history while firmly establishing itself in the present.
