Birthed from grief and shaped by travel, Gorillaz’s ninth studio album The Mountain blossoms into a spiritual backseat adventure across India, with none other than Damon Albarn and Gorillaz co-creator Jamie Hewlett steering the wheel. Having both lost their fathers before this new production, the Brits conquered raw emotions to glide through a pilgrimage of sonic conceptions more subdued than past releases, but arguably the most cohesive since Plastic Bleach. In this pentalingual dream-building exploration of death, the cartoon supergroup lands a large assembly of collaborators that includes the deceased themselves, accomplished through the use of unreleased archival recordings.
After the title tracks meditative relinquish in Indian soundscapes, ‘The Moon Cave’ pursues with grieving filteresque vocals “If you’re leaving / Don’t make it harder than it is / Let me know / So I can say goodbye” whilst remaining instrumentally funk. This woozy hip-hop banger, along with closer ‘The Sad God’, both complete the half music video, half animated short story adaptation that encapsulates watchers into a beautiful fictitious rebirth. ‘Orange Country’ becomes The Mountain’s ‘On Melancholy Hill’ in a mournful whistle of acceptance that features sitarist Anoushka Shankar, folk singer Kara Jackson and producer Bizarrap.
Other eminent features include Paul Simonon of The Clash on metaphysical psych-pop ‘Casablanca,’ the late Nigerian drummer Tony Allen opening ethereal jazz floater ‘The Hardest Thing’ and electrifying on guitar throughout, none other than Johnny Marr of The Smiths. While it’s not the band at its most familiar, it shouldn’t be a surprise that the 57-year-old singer worships contradiction in his sound, being in this case a cacophonic cross-cultural fusion. Making an immediate name for itself as one of the greater of Gorillaz albums, some might describe it as fire, but in reality, it’s the numbingly stinging chill one finds only at the peak of The Mountain.
When I close my eyes and let the opening instrumental unfold, I am immediately transported to a fictitious world where floating through clouds is as normal as walking. Sure, Gorillaz are known for extensive feature artistry, but this album’s collaboration impressively bridges two different worlds. IDLES collaboration in ‘The God of Lying’ might have been a little underwhelming, but 92-year-old Asha Bholse seriously makes it up in ‘The Shadowy Light.’ Her glowing voice carries a striking sense of depth. What I love most is that, in a growing era of algorithm-friendly singles and playlist bangers, this album insists on being experienced as a whole. It’s a piece of art meant to be listened to from start to end, as if it’s less an album and more so a journey. That said, there are moments where a bit more rawness from Albarn would have elevated the emotional weight. His reliance on filtered vocals occasionally distanced me from the songs. However, would it really be a Gorillaz album without it? At its core, The Mountain reflects on connection- how, despite conflict, distance and the passage of time, there is an underlying pull towards unity. In its ending, I am left with the powerful feeling of a quiet reconciliation waiting, a desirable return to something peaceful and shared.
Love, intern Abi!
