I am pleased to confirm that Damon Albarn has done it again. The latest from Gorillaz, Plastic Beach, is yet another outstanding album, perhaps even more creative than 2005’s Demon Days. It features the usual Gorillaz traits, namely Albarn’s canny knack for an infuriatingly catchy tune. This is perhaps best personified in On Melancholy Hill, a song deceptively simple at first but one that’s possibly the best he’s ever written. The album, although featuring several collaborations, is very much Albarn’s and caps the rap element of the band somewhat – although the introductory track featuring Snoop Dogg is very good indeed.
Although Plastic Beach features a very varied array of guest artists, almost all of the collaborations are successful. The only sore point for me is Glitter Freeze, a track featuring Mark E. Smith. Beginning with his where’s North from ‘ere? the song is little more than a Mark E. Smith parody, or a parody of the self parody that he’s become. It didn’t really work for me. Much better is Some Kind of Nature, where Albarn shares vocals with Lou Reed to deliver one of the album’s many standout tracks. Also excellent is the addictive Stylo which features Mos Def and Bobby Womack.
Female vocalists also make their mark on Plastic Beach. Little Dragon features on two memorable tracks, Empire Ants and To Binge. Mick Jones and Paul Simenon also turn up on the title song, and the style reminds of Albarn’s earlier work The Good The Bad and The Queen. All in all Plastic Beach proves how far Albarn’s come since Parklife, a shore on the other side of the world in fact and one of the joys in modern music is keeping an eye on both his development and that of his pal Mr Coxon.
Last Sunday I dashed home from a weekend away in order to catch the end of the BBC’s Glastonbury coverage. To be honest I didn’t really have high hopes about the closing set by Blur. Although a big fan in their heyday, I never thought they managed to recapture the brilliance of the Parklife album, and I eventually lost interest in them after the departure of Graham Coxon. However, with Coxon back in their ranks the reunion was something of an event and I confess that Sunday evening did become rather special. No new material, and I counted at least seven songs in the set from Parklife (including the inevitable walk on from Phil Daniels). But they were on fine form, and Damon Albarn, garbed in his black Fred Perry, worked the crowd with aplomb. The sense of occasion was further heightened by some enthusiastic Blur related activity on Twitter. In fact whatever the event, be it Blur or Wimbledon, I find I can’t resist the Twitter allure. But that’s for a different post.
It was good to see Blur again. Although, despite my continued enthusiasm for 80s and 90s bands, I try not to wallow in nostalgia too much. I’ve followed the post-Blur careers of both Albarn and Coxon and think they have produced their best work in this later period. Perhaps their best is still to come. There’s a new Gorillaz album on its way from Damon and Graham recently released his The Spinning Top album. This is easily the best thing he’s done to date, a folksy record that recalls Syd Barrett and Nick Drake with a nod to Coxon’s pal Paul Weller. It’s a mature piece that shows how far he’s travelled since the days of Girls and Boys, Tracy Jacks and Badhead (although I must point out that this last song is one of my all time favourites).
People tell me that I’m the age now where I ought to be listening to Radio 2. Actually, I’ve been tuning in for years although I’m becoming increasingly despondent with the music they play. It’s the nostalgia thing again, and I wonder how long they can continue to play Blondie and Abba records and expect people to happily accept it. It isn’t that there is a case against the current crop of pop stars. Actually I think the opposite.
Recently I have enjoyed three recent releases that stand up to all of the pop music before them. Ladyhawke, which came out last year, are a New Zealand band who surpass the likes of Blondie with good pop music. It’s retro stuff, recalling the 80s and in parts the sound of Stevie Nicks from Fleetwood Mac, but a highly infectious album. My two other recent discoveries can also be described as 80s retro. Both have been hyped quite a lot; easily justified although I hope it doesn’t harm their careers at this early stage. This is the weird thing I can’t resolve; although I am bored with nostalgia my current favourites all recall the period when I was young and started getting into music. It’s a paradox, but a pleasant one.
Hands by Little Boots is a very commercial album, so much so that it has invited criticism, although commercial pop is no bad thing when the songs are so good. There’s also an excellent guest appearance from Phil Oakey, which is worth the price of admission alone. Little Boots has often been lumped together with La Roux. I can see why; their self titled debut has many similarities although I think it has a harder edge and is slightly less accessible. It recalls the weirder side of Soft Cell and, again, The Human League. In the old days, I would imagine Janice Long playing Little Boots with John Peel going for La Roux. Little Boots or La Roux? I can’t recommend either enough. So I suggest buying both.
Whatever your tastes, and if you agree with mine or not, I’m content to be discovering new music in 2009. Especially being the same advanced age as Damon Albarn and Graham Coxon. Rock on.
Anyone of a certain age will remember the very strange television programme called Monkey. This Chinese TV series was dubbed into English and aired by the BBC in the late 70s/early 80s. Each week three characters called Monkey, Pigsy and Sandy had mad adventures and jumped about. That was about as far as it went, and if you were a fan of Monkey you probably also liked The Water Margin.
My ears pricked up recently when I heard that Damon Albarn had written a stage musical based on the 16th Century Chinese novel by Wu Cheng’en. Monkey: Journey to the West continues the Monkey legend and features artwork by Jamie Hewlett, who was responsible for the Gorillaz look and feel.
I’ve been a fan of Albarn for ages. His music, through Blur, Gorillaz and The Good, the Bad and the Queen has always been excellent and inventive. He’s also never shy to push the boat out, and this latest project sees him leaving the shore completely. The album Journey to the West was released this week and I admit my first impressions were ones of bafflement. I guess I was expecting an extension to Gorillaz, but that’s not the case. Whilst the two albums Albarn made with that band were pretty experimental at times, Monkey makes them look like Bucks Fizz records. It’s challenging to say the least, Albarn doesn’t sing on it and it largely comes across as Brian Eno after too much rice wine. I kind of gave up on it all last night. I even emailed a friend saying the album was rubbish.
But gingerly I put the album back on again tonight (or, in the modern way, fired it up in iTunes). The headache that’s been bugging me all week and making me grumpy has almost cleared and I’m finding fresh and original things in this weird music. What’s a barrier is the lack of the visual feast I would imagine that the original stage show was, but this is still a worthy addition to the Albarn canon. It’s not one for the dinner party, even if you’re cooking for die-hard Damon Albarn fans – they’re likely to have the same first impressions as me. But it goes in the grower category, and I’ve already identified two really stand out tracks, Heavenly Peach Banquet and Monkey Bee. This is a record I might be listening to for a long time to make sense of. At least until his next project comes along.
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