SAN FRANCISCO --They weren't exactly the same old Blur. Rather they were

some kind of hyped-up hybrid who had somehow forgotten their pop-laden past and

were searching for a new rock home.

They thought they might find it in San Francisco.

The band that once dueled it out with fellow Brit-rockers Oasis for the Britpop

crown played to an eclectic and not necessarily pop-friendly crowd when they

came to the Warfield last Friday night.

Usually, Blur attracts the hard-core anglophile-types: skinny, white, baby

T-shirts, track-suit bottoms, bleached-platinum hair with little pink barrettes.

But, probably due to the heavy rotation of their recent single "Song 2," the

gig brought out a mix of people, from the more punk types, to those with a love

of the grungy psychedelic sound. There were even some beer-guzzling frat boys in

the crowd.

And most seemed unsure of what to make of the not-quite new and not-yet old

Blur.

For the past several years the band has made a name for itself by writing and performing

music that is quintessentially British. Singer/songwriter Damon Albarn seemed

to favor songs that painted vivid pictures of the lives and times of the English; many focused on specific characters ("Charmless Man," "Mr. Robinson's

Quango," "Tracy Jacks"). It made the band famous in the U.K., but brought

criticism from some Americans who dismissed Blur as, well, too British.

Their latest album, simply titled Blur --and Friday's show -- find the band headed

in a different direction musically. But their performance at the Warfield didn't

exactly secure their ticket to the States. Instead of surrounding themselves

with synthesizers, Blur stuck to the basics: drum kit, a few microphones and one

keyboard well hidden in the back.

Albarn and his mates, drummer Dave Rowntree, bassist Alex James and guitarist

Graham Coxon, got right to it -- whatever it was -- walking out and wasting no

time launching into "Beetlebum," the opening track on Blur.

The first song set the tone for the rest of their performance: basic,

rough-around-the-edges rock 'n' roll with a punk twist. Strangely and

disconcertingly at times, the band chose to play every song at twice the speed

of the album versions. The pace even got to Albarn, who sang half-verses on

songs such as "Globe Alone" to keep up with the music.

As a result, he did more spitting than singing through about half the set.

The band mangled "Girls And Boys," a playful, Kinks-like tune which rides on odd

keyboard tones, into a two-minute thrash-fest, replacing the quirky noises with

extremely loud guitar crunches. "Parklife," a song which finds Albarn talking

the verses, then singing the chorus, came out deformed as Albarn, instead,

shouted the words and practically screamed the chorus.

While the old sound was well out of place, the band's new style seemed

appropriate for the newer songs. The fast and furious "M.O.R." came out just

the way it should have; Rowntree's precise and quick drumming coupled with

Coxon's no-nonsense chords brought out the punk most people thought Blur never

had. "Song 2," with its simple guitar-driven buildup and noise-infested crash

down, sounded incredible and was obviously the crowd favorite.

Still, old fans die hard.

"I miss their old stuff," said a fan from San Francisco who gave his name as

Frank. "They didn't play 'End of A Century' or 'Country House.' It's like they

don't want to play their best British stuff. I am not sure about their new

songs."

Then, there are the new fans.

"Blur rocks! I never knew they could be so rockin'. They really kicked ass!"

shouted one who had driven up from San Jose to see the gig.

[Tues., Oct. 7, 1997, 9 a.m. PDT]