Melody Maker When Blur completed "Leisure" they threw an impromptu party at the studio in Fulham. Ride, Lush, Chapterhouse... all the Scene's prime movers were there. The Blur boys were a little smashed, to put it mildly, and time was fast approaching for the party to shift festivities to the Moose gig in Camden. Russell from Chapterhouse was wondering how the f*** we were all gonna get there when Damon Albarn swayed into view. "Don't worry about it," he slurred, smiling that sweet sardonic smile of his. "We'll take a load of cabs and charge 'em all to EMI." Russell looked flabbergasted. "Cabs." Damon explained, perfectly deadpan. "Taxis. C-a-b-s. Black things. Four wheels. Driver. You'll get to use 'em when you've had a hit." He paused and then he laughed. In many ways Blur is a misnomer because, unlike most of the other new wave noiseniks, Blur's talents and, above all, their ambitions, are dead obvious. They want to be stars because stardom is power, power to do... well, no one's really cracked that one yet but let's just say Blur have lived the alternative to stardom all their young lives and they're damn sure they're not going back there now. So "Leisure" is a promotional item par excellence, not so much an album as an advertisement for Blur. It pays heed to its time (the drums are often baggy, there's feedback and sustain) but, more importantly, it aspires to timelessness. Tunes are never sacrificed to the post-MBV radical guitar theory and the character, the ego, the star potential of the group is unashamedly, aggressivelv and persistently pushed. There's only one song on "Leisure" that doesn't mention "I" or "Me" and, unlike their contemporaries, Blur don't want to baffle your parents by mixing the vocals so far down they might as well not be there. On the contrary, Albarn auditions his way through an impressive roster of pop impersonations. He's great as the young Jagger veering erratically between his naturally polite Home Counties enunciation and the leery drop T'ed cockney Mick adopted to further his career as the anti-Macca (who was, of course, busy reversing the process from Scouse to snob). He's also pretty good at Syd Barrett and Pete Shelley. In fact, "Fool" is early Floyd in a tiff with early Buzzcocks with the emphasis on earIy. Blur's ambition is so naked there's a disarming purity about it, a naive exuberance. In this respect, they should probably be considered alongside piss-poor drippy twats like EMF and Jesus Jones rather than alongside nerve-wrackers like Levitation. But "Leisure" proves, as if proof were needed, that they don't rely on technology or gimmicks or tabloid support to grant them any pathetic 15 seconds of fame "Leisure" may tell us, over and over, that Blur want to be adored but it also proves they warrant adoration. We already know "She's So High", fortuitously given the seal of yuppie disapproval by Jonathon Ross on "Juke Box Jury"'. We also know the groovy "There's No Other Way" and the op-art urbanite anthem "Bang" - all great singles with inescapably cheeky choruses, all as trad as fish'n'chips and all here to remind us how Blur were born to misbehave on "Top Of The Pops". But, while it would be foolish to underestimate their pure pop expertise (ask The Primitives how hard it is to write three minute wonders - they only managed "Crash"). "Leisure" peaks highest when the band abandon the tried-and-true and go for something weirder. "Repetition" hints at chemical insight through distorted megaphone vocals and a particularly cheesy guitar grind, and the ultra-stoned "Birthday" suggests Albarn already knows that precarious balance between blissed-out and burned-out, the wide-eyed, nursery rhyme Beatle vocal, "I don't like this day, it makes me feel too small" brilliantly worked into the psychotic plural "...these days...". The sugared threat of the gorgeous "Wear Me Down" is achieved between Albarn's weariness and the band turning on an axis bold as Hendrix but best of all is the majestic "Sing" which stretches a dark emotional drama across a rack of plaintive piano while guitars sizzle like a forest of burning pylons. These tracks suggest that Blur are already looking to further their horizons without jeopardising their accessability. Thev may be riding around in cabs right now but "Leisure" suggests that they will be the first of the new breed to be chauffeured about in day-glo Rolls Royces. Others may choose to stare at their shoes but Blur look full into mirrors and there they see stars.