--Brandon Howard
----Released 23 October 2020 Parlophone-Warner
Something that has always set Gorillaz apart is that when they began, they were a remarkably current band; in terms of both their animated approach and the stylistic leanings. The postmodern deconstruction of genre exhibited in their early work, along with the technology to make an animated band possible on the scale necessary to tour, could only have happened and been taken seriously in the early 2000’s.
After living in the Britpop tabloid spotlight with Blur, it makes a great deal of sense that front man, Damon Albarn would eagerly seek a moniker to hide behind and embrace the creative freedoms therein. There are inklings on Blur’s 1998 album, 13 that hint to his experimentation with electronics.
The adventurous spirit to move forward in combination with the pedigree of his career thus far put Gorillaz at the forefront of alternative music at a time when nu-metal and Britney-esque pop stars were dominating the charts. The growing popularity of rap and its fusion with rock music became commonplace, but the direction taken by Gorillaz showcases both their attention to trends and the ability to rise above them and create something unique.
For all of their experimentation, it can cause a reasonable amount of frustration that they no longer entertain such pursuits. To his credit, Albarn has already achieved success. He doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone, and this release seems to celebrate creativity for creativity’s sake. However, the allure of boundary pushing and unpredictable tendencies are long gone, and their career seems to have hit a long-standing plateau.
As with most aging artists, he seems to have lost his edge and displays a willingness to fall in line with current sounds rather than any desire to reinvent them. However, there is a touch of redemption in his approach, as he himself seems to acknowledge this, treating new releases more like a collaborative compilation than any kind of cohesive statement. I find that to be far more appealing than bands far past their golden age, doomed to become cliches of their former radio hits.
The album boasts a star-studded line-up, including the likes of Robert Smith, Elton John, St. Vincent, JPEGMAFIA, Peter Hook, Schoolboy Q, Beck and many others. It does seem a tad absurd to me to imagine two old men like Albarn and Smith on the opener “Strange Timez,” making music that would be more fitting for a middle school dance rather than any sort of more mature work by two UK music industry giants. Because of its animated universe, it would be out of place for the music to be too serious; but I’d still like it to be artistically poignant enough to be taken seriously.
The production value is noteworthy but the actual songwriting results in unfortunate and generally unmemorable music. Tracks like “The Pink Phantom'' feature romantic laments by Elton John but by the end it sounds like a track I would have found on my 8th grade crush’s iPod Nano. The perceived immaturity of the work is found throughout the album, being presented with conviction by 52-year-old Albarn for the rebellious teenagers who will no doubt be partying to it—Surely fans of Demon Days have aged out of the intended demographic. It seems like he’s just happy to be one of the hip kids in a way that sees him surrender creative leadership in lieu of pedestrian musical outings.
For all his songwriting history and ingenuity, it leads you to wonder if this is out of celebration or out of lack of ideas. The album has highlights but overall it would not receive this amount of attention without the guest stars. The Gemini in me sees two paths of looking at it, and perhaps this disconnect is what occurs between him and his fanbase in general. Is it a celebration, or a hopeful shot at relevance? Perhaps both? Who is this music for?
Watch the video for "The Valley of the Pagans ft. Beck" below:
Comentários