There’s a back story, you know there’s a back story. But that’s not really worth going into now. Save for perhaps a dash of compare and contrast, and to point out that almost without warning, and from the shadows, Coxon has assembled a body of work not far off that of his former band. ‘Happiness In Magazines’ was certainly a shelf or two above the incomplete sounding ‘Think Tank’. And that’s not said lightly or without prior consideration. He’s done things backwards of course, starting with the obscure and the indulgent and working his way up to chart smashing, guitar thrashing, irresistible beat pop. If any aspect of Graham Coxon is continually testament to how precious he has become it’s the shaggy haired introvert’s insatiable approach to playing live. And if this live DVD, his first, is testament to anything, it’s that regardless of where he’s come from he is up there now as an artist in his own right, and a definitive one at that.
In a way, you’d be hard pushed to find a way to over-direct a Graham Coxon gig. But despite being set in Oxford’s modest toilet venue the Zodiac, this as a performance is really bloody nice to look at. Really nice. So smooth and up close and personal it captures every kink and uneven tear in his jagged mannerisms and the band’s efficient playing cuts through clearly. All the little things that define him, the quirks that set him apart, are pushed upfront.
You have him bending all kinds of intense hell from his weary guitar with a hard, chaotic randomness before occasionally stumbling to an abrupt halt, ruffling his hair, staring at his fingernails and uttering a shy schoolboy “thanks”. You have him somehow beating his way right to the heart of every song with a voice so off-road its got a constant flat, and carries a spare flat in the boot for emergencies. The songs crackle with nervous energy and intentions too pure for them to reveal fully. ‘Escape Song’, ‘No Good Time’, the amazing ‘I Wish’, ‘All Over Me’, ‘Freakin’ Out’ and ‘Spectacular’ all fare spectacularly well from their treatment here. When he first started recording solo albums who could have guessed he’d play a 14 song set with no filler.
The ICA set – a basic, 7 song, acoustic extra taken from the opening of his art exhibition last year – is a less essential collection, as cute as it might otherwise be. It’s more confirmation that years spent in Camden’s gutters clutching a bottomless can of Red Stripe in one hand and cheap bourbon in the other can’t help but feed your tortured bluesman aspirations – even if all he’s visibly drinking these days is Diet Coke. The promo vids for the ‘Happiness In Magazines’ singles (‘Bittersweet Bundle Of Misery’/‘Spectacular’/the godly ‘Freakin’ Out’) are a thoroughly satisfying bonus though, with an overexposed pop zeal that can’t help but make you grin. These kinds of live DVDs can easily seem like a cynical formality, but neither Graham nor his DVD give that theory any credence. This captures an understated star at his most electrifying.