At some point during ‘Orange County’, I realised I wasn’t just enjoying The Mountain but was instead slightly stunned by it.
A quarter century in, Gorillaz have made something that feels full. Not too busy and not too playlist-optimised, just full to the brim with good song after good song. It’s the kind of LP where the (very many) collaborators don’t feel bolted on, like most rap albums these days, but folded in neatly.
The title track sets the tone without even requiring Damon Albarn needing to sing. Dennis Hopper’s voice drifts through it like a ghost from an older Gorillaz era, while Anoushka Shankar’s sitar wraps itself around bansuri flute and sarod. The percussion’s patient and nothing is rushed.
Then ‘The Moon Cave’ hits and you remember how good this band are at staging voices. Asha Puthli sounds impossibly elegant, whilst Bobby Womack and Dave Jolicoeur appear posthumously but as though they all rubbed shoulders in the studio to make this. However, it’s Jalen Ngonda who is the revelation: he doesn’t try to overpower the track; he settles into it, with Black Thought threading everything together.
‘Orange County’ is where the album’s hidden grief surfaces. “The hardest thing is to say goodbye to someone you love” could be trite but it isn’t, with the line about legacy spoiling before you grow old landing harder than it should.
The IDLES collaboration is going to split people. ‘The God of Lying’ just isn’t as explosive as I’d hoped it would be. It’s oddly subdued, with the piano, and Joe Talbot, feeling a bit tired – but that’s not a bad thing. He’s unusually restrained, which might frustrate some listeners, but I like it.
Not everything hits with that level of precision though. ‘The Manifesto’ starts brilliantly and then wanders. ‘Damascus’ leans into Arabic influences with a belligerant Omar Souleyman that won’t be to everyone’s taste. Still upbeat and satisfying though.
What surprises most is how coherent it all feels given the language shifts and stylistic detours. This could have been chaos. Instead it feels like one big family get-together where everyone’s allowed to yap away.
The closing stretch is quietly devastating, with ‘Casablanca’ and ‘The Sweet Prince’ seeing Damon at his most reflective. Then ‘The Sad God’ returns to the opening motif and lets Black Thought close the circle sweetly. I haven’t been this excited about a Gorillaz album since Plastic Beach, and time will tell if it can eclipse it in consistency. If it’s still as magnetic after a year or two of relistens, I’ll confidently slot it in Gorillaz’s Top 3.
