Gorillaz

DISCOGRAPHY

Gorillaz (2000) 6/10

G-Sides (comp, 2001) 4/10

Spacemonkeys: Laika Come Home (remixes, 2002) 4/10

Demon Days (2004) 5/10 

D-Sides (comp, 2005) 3.5/10

Plastic Beach (2009) 4.5/10

The Fall (2010) 3.5/10

Humanz (2016) 3/10

The Now Now (2018) 4/10

Song Machine (2020) 4/10

Cracker Island (2023) 4/10

    I wonder sometimes if fans of Gorillaz would still like them if the band was never a virtual phenomenon. Just think: All their music videos, concerts, and everything was just Damon Albarn alone with his synthesizer.

   Not all, but I think the overwhelming majority of Gorillaz fans were seduced by the band's image. Jamie Hewlett after all is a talented artist who has stood the test of time when you consider that after more than a decade of the Gorillaz' development, the animation still feels fresh and strong.

   But what about the music? Many of the hardcore Gorillaz fans don't even listen to all of their releases, shyly admitting that they really aren't too interested in the rest of the band's material if it doesn't involve their hits. I reason that this is because their hits aren't even that interesting. 

   Albarn is an inconsistent songwriter: his portrayals of gloominess in "alternative" dance music sets melancholic moods with a lethargic, hopeless melody only to completely reject it with the addition of some cheesy hip-hop percussion or quirky synth phrase.

   But what moods are in the music are substantial, so you can get melancholic when you listen to On Melancholy Hill or feel good when you listen to Feel Good Inc. These are good songs, but they will never be anything that will change your life. The animation, on the other hand... well, let's just say that Noodle was my first crush. True story.

   Conceded in 1997 by the lead singer of Blur (Damon Albarn) and his roommate, the cartoonist/creator of Tank Girl (Jamie Hewlett), Gorillaz was a virtual band made as a satire of modern pop music, a representation that what was on MTV was two-dimensional, or that it had "no substance". 

   While Albarn and a variety of musical guests would be the real music-makers, the Gorillaz' fictional line-up is Stuart "2-D" Pot (vox), Murdoc Niccals (bass), Russel Hobbs (drums), and Noodle (guitar).

   The debut Gorillaz utilized every crumb of potential the "band" had from the get-go. Each of the fifteen tracks are grounded in Albarn's roots as well as producer Dan Nakamura's roots — Blur's commercial garage-rock (5/4, Punk, M1 A1) and Deltron 3030's exploratory hip-hop (Rock The House, Clint Eastwood, Double Bass). Both worlds complement each other to yield a delectable taste of sulky Britpop and funky dance music. Trip-hop and dub elements are attributed to Nakamura while Albarn supplies a melody in Re-Hash, New Genius (Brother), and Man Research (Clapper); and the two songwriters basically take turns between acoustic blues and turntablism in Sound Check (Gravity). Yet their eclecticism stretches even further with the folktronica of Tomorrow Comes Today, the synth-pop dance 19-2000, the ambient-pop of Slow Country, and the suspenseful downtempo beat behind Starshine. Inevitably, Clint Eastwood would be a crowd-favorite due to its catchy piano-phrase and nursery-rhyme of a chorus. My personal favorite of the record is the trip-hop jazz session Latin Simone (Que Pasa Contigo). 

   In summary, Gorillaz depicts the underground scene of drums'n'bass and turntablism in an accessible fashion: Albarn's vocals achieve that carefree suburban "cool" that people like in "indie" artists, and to no dispute, the beats are indeed groovy enough to stick with you long after your first listen. 

   A collection of discarded recordings titled G-Sides would cater to the hype. Some tracks were uselessly already on CD copies of Gorillaz as bonus tracks (Dracula, Left Hand Suzuki Method, remixes of 19-2000 and Clint Eastwood).

   Tracks like The Sounder fail to invigorate beyond nice furniture-music for hop-heads, though both Faust and Hip Albatross had potential as naive little soundscape pieces (especially the latter, with Albarn's slow croak in the chorus: "I...was born...a zombie..."). The folktronica of 12D3 also showed potential despite its redundant acoustic riff — as with Ghost Train and its barging back-up vocals.

   It's strictly for collectors, though Dracula does set a creepy atmosphere, and Left Hand Suzuki Method is a good session of extravagant sampling. 

    Laika Come Home collects authorized remixes of Gorillaz tracks into dub music by the DJ group Spacemonkeyz.

    Cliches of the dub and ambient-pop genres — delay hiccups, cathedrals of reverb, and glitchy electronics — make up most of the album's seventy-six minutes. Although the cliches weren't badly executed, they are a tad slow and even predictable. 

   Demon Days continues the recipe of moody Britpop, trip-hop, and electro-rock; yet, by some mystical nuance, the colorful spirit of the last album has been replaced with something more self-indulgent. Danger Mouse having replaced Nakaruma might have had something to do with it.

   Though Demon Days is not bad, it frustrates me. Some songs set up absolutely sweet grooves that click with the synth phrases like circuitry, yet their payoff is inconsistent: some tracks develop, some stagnate. 

   A chamber-esque aura blossoms in the synth of Last Living Souls and Kids With Guns; Dirty Harry is essentially "synth-gospel" until a generic rap verse completely disrupts the tone; hip-hop prevails hardest in the funk of Feel Good Inc, a sharp contrast to the dream-pop lament El Manana; artsy progressions and eclecticism take a backseat for the blatant disco of Dare, which is (expectedly) repetitive. The album's remainder is less memorable, but no less gimmicky and eclectic: O Green World utilizes thrashing shrill samples between Albarn's megaphone-vocals; Every Planet We Reach Is Dead is more electro-rock filler; November Has Come and All Alone are straightforward hip-hop numbers with macabre sampling and bulbous drums'n'bass; White Light is a raspy tape of beatboxing overdubbed with more electro-rock; Dennis Hopper is featured to read the spoken-word verses of Monkey's Head; and the two final tracks Don't Get Lost In Heaven and Demon Days border on wispy psychedelia. 

   While the variety is respectable, the ideas' execution is lackluster. Demon Days is trying hard to be some deep artsy hip-hop/rock amalgamation, but it all comes out as careless and contrived. 

   To repeat the move with G-Sides, Demon Days got an archival titled D-Sides, which would come with one disc of discarded original tracks (save the Don't Get Lost In Heaven demo) and one disc of remixes. 

   As expected, the music is mostly filler with just a few spots of potential — the most memorable being the downtempo dub of Hongkongaton and the noisy, distorted electro-rock of Murdoc Is God. 

   The rest have the same variety of Demon Days injected with coma-inducing boredom. It's amazing how lush and exotic the arrangements get only to yield no emotional response. (Though Hong Kong is a decent exception.)

   I recommend to skip the disc of remixes.

   Plastic Beach had a longer list of collaborative artists, a more expansive arsenal of instruments (including a full-bodied orchestra), and the largest amount of funds poured into its marketing; but despite its preparation, the music is even less organic than its predecessor. 

   I cringe at many of the rapping features (especially Snoop Dogg) or dated 80s synth can be endearing mistakes at times, but the one blatantly terrible moment of the album is the disastrous White Flag, which starts with a lavish exotic orchestral arrangement before busting into an underwhelming rap beat, only to bring the orchestral arrangement back very clumsily. The arrangement brings no vivid contrast, no spectacular complements, nor does it even match the rhythm. It sounds as if it came on at the end by mistake and Albarn didn't catch it in time for the album's release. 

   When you make an album of so many different genres you shouldn't be surprised if it turns out unfocused: there's the Orchestral Intro, the synth-pop of Rhinestone Eyes, the synth-funk of Plastic Beach and Pirate Jet; hip-hop in Welcome to the World of the Plastic Beach, White Flag, Superfast Jellyfish, and Sweepstakes; an uninspired grime session for Glitter Freeze; and the neo-soul number Cloud of Unknowing.

   At least some potential shines through the somber melodies of Empire Ants, On Melancholy Hill, Broken, Some Kind Of Nature, and To Binge; plus the album's obvious highlight, the throbbing electro-soul of Stylo. 

   Perhaps under the direction of a better producer, Plastic Beach could have been less of a hodgepodge of awkward ideas and collaborations — but seeing that Gorillaz only need their music videos and art style to sell their records, why would they bother? 

   The singles Do Ya Thing and Doncamatic would be released to promote Plastic Beach but would not make the actual tracklist. Both would have made pleasant additions to the record (although the extended version of the former is terrible). 

   The mind-numbing boredom of The Fall was recorded by Albarn via iPad. Outrageously dull progressions of minimal synth (Phoner To Arizona, Detroit, Shy-town, Little Pink Plastic Bags, Joplin Spider, Parish Of Space Dust) and gimmicky tape effects (Snake In Dallas, The Speak It Mountains, Slipping Of The Sun, Seattle Yodel) make the record seem insecure about its ideas, when Albarn's intention was clearly the opposite: to be bold, confident, and daring. 

   Its most stimulating moments are the folktronica experiments Revolving Doors, Amarillo, Hillbilly Man, Bobby In Phoenix, and the instrumental Aspen Forest — all hardly redemptive for the record's forty-six minutes. 

   Humanz is an appropriate title for the Gorillaz' 2017 release as it is mostly a collection of work from other artists rather than the actual Gorillaz (that is, Damon Albarn). 

   The tracks rarely entertain beyond drudging lo-fi dance beats. Each song ends before I notice any climax. At least the gospel echoes of Hallelujah Money stimulate some eerie vibes, the synth-funk of Strobelite and the beat behind Saturnz Barz are okay, but the rest of Humanz is overt furniture music; a product to fill the air in college-student dorms and coffee-houses, functioning as some hipster-endorsed air freshener.

   The Now Now combines Albarn's fixation of chamber-folk with MGMT's neo-psychedelic synth-pop (complete with the nostalgic callbacks to electro-disco and synth-funk). 

   Idaho displays a lugubrious folk-pop and sentimental chamber accompaniment that is reminiscent of the Magnetic Fields; Tranz utilizes reverb to droney synth-phrases like the Soft Moon. At its worst, the record stagnates on underwhelming pop structures that fail to show much of a presence beyond generic upbeat retro-music. The instrumental Lake Zurich is the record at its best: colorful synth and infectious rhythm, a development from "nostalgia" to pure revival — had the record maintained the soul of this sound for its entirety, The Now Now would have been much more enjoyable. 

TOP 10 SONGS

• 1. Feel Good Inc (2005) ft. De La Soul

  2. Latin Simone - Que Pasa Contigo (2000)

  3. Tomorrow Comes Today (2000)

  4. Stylo (2009)

  5. 19-2000 (2000)

  6. Dirty Harry (2005)

  7. Re-Hash (2000)

  8. Sound Check - Gravity (2000)

  9. Dare (2005)

  10. Lake Zurich (2018)

EXTERNAL LINKS

• Gorillaz web site -- more cool visuals for the art fans

• Dare music video -- terrible lip-syncing of the giant head, but at least you get to see the stimulus of my childhood's sexual awakening (Noodle at 1:50)

• The BEST Gorillaz video -- one of their best songs set to car chases, amazing animation, and Bruce Willis

• Okay the animation for On Melancholy Hill is pretty good too