Gorillaz – Cracker Island
It may not reach the dizzying heights of previous records, but Cracker Island proves that the Gorillaz formula still slaps
If Cracker Island demonstrates anything, it’s that Gorillaz intend to stick to their time-honoured formula. Jaded harmonies, hallucinatory alternative universes, stellar collaborations with the best in the business (this time, Stevie Nicks, Thundercat and Tame Impala make the cut) – it’s all here, and though it may not reach the dizzying, if somewhat bloated, heights of 2017’s Humanz, it still slaps.
A hyperreal sheen sticks to every surface on this latest album, as Damon Albarn doubles down on the ubiquitousness of digital – an impressive feat for a band that already exists solely in VR. Piercing synths conjure a jarring paradise in Cracker Island (a neat allusion to the very online phrase, “Normal Island”), where digital cults reign. Silent Running is a sad synth pop groover about a self-defeating slide into doomscrolling. Bootie Brown pulls the band back to their rap roots on New Gold, a disco-inflected inventory of Twitter dramas and cosmetic procedures.
But Cracker Island is most compelling when it drops its irony-tinged persona. On Skinny Ape, amid a mishmash of country guitar and hyperactive electro-pop, 2D buries the hatchet on his fraught relationship with Murdoc. For the closer, Possession Island (feat. Beck), Albarn strips all bare, leaving us with haunting piano and a lullaby chorus. Even amongst the superficial glamour of this utopian island, it seems, vulnerability and authenticity still have their place.
Listen to: New Gold, Baby Queen, Skinny Ape