Nobody thinks they’re going to get old until they are — especially rock stars. We know how the story usually goes: devilishly handsome frontman of a massive band slowly burns out into self-parody as he grasps at the glory days. It’s easy to be an artistic chameleon when you’re ugly. It’s not easy to shift around the spotlight, searching instead for fulfilling creative experiences when you’re as charismatic, electric, and sexy as Damon Albarn. Yet, for the last 30 years, he’s been doing just that, sidestepping ego for creativity and persistently reminding us that his story is anything but “usual.”
It’s 2023, and somehow the kids are still listening to Gorillaz. Not in the way that kids listen to the Doors or Bowie. In fact, Gorillaz, the band which Albarn formed in 1998 with Jamie Hewlett, feels like a band of 2023. This is in large part due to a guiding principle that has followed every album: they are consistently inconsistent.
Experimentation. Experimentation. Experimentation.
In this way, Albarn is one of the most prolific artists of his generation. He gives the sense that he’d rather be doing anything else than what he’s already done. He’s always been this way, even when his image was that of the charming bad boy frontman of the 90s Brit-pop band Blur. He was taking risks, including with albums like “13,” which pushed away from Brit-pop and into psychedelic and electric soundscapes.
Hip-hop, electronic and world music clearly influenced him into starting Gorillaz, a virtual band made up of cartoon characters (Hewlett’s contribution) and immense worldbuilding. The band is essentially an outlet for Albarn to kick it with as many collaborators as possible. Each album features an array of eclectic features, ranging from Snoop Dogg to Lou Reed. In this sense, Albarn is a chameleon, choosing to hide behind a cartoon monkey and delving deeper and deeper into his own imagination.
On Feb. 24, 2023, the band’s eighth studio “Cracker Island” was released. Including features from Thundercat, Tame Impala and Bad Bunny, the album marks a first for Gorrilaz and Albarn: their first true pop record. Despite some notable highs (New Gold and Baby Queen), the album doesn’t work as well as previous efforts. It’s not that leaning into a pop record is necessarily the wrong step. Rather, the issue is more that the eclectic tastes of Albarn don’t breathe as much as they have on past albums.
Yet even on albums that don’t fully work, of which Gorillaz have a few, Albarn remains elastic. It’s like he’s throwing paint at a wall and seeing what sticks — and I don’t mean that negatively because there’s nothing haphazard about his approach. His emphasis is on feeling his way through as many genres and musical experiences as possible. So, even when a Gorillaz album doesn’t hit like the last, there’s a lingering feeling that the next will be wholly unexpected.
Truly compelling second acts for musicians are rare. There’s the self-parody dilemma for starters, and even in cases of great bands, remaining consistently creative in one’s artistry is easier said than done. Pinpointing exactly what it is that has kept his music fresh for 30 years feels reductive for an artist as elusive as Albarn. What is certain, though, is that his keen intuition for following ideas wherever they might lead him has granted him and his cartoon persona a career that transcends one sound or collaboration. Rather, his body of work reflects the seemingly endless pool of creative energy and artist friendships that its creator is so known for.
