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“I have dedicated my life to making music, so as long as I have the strength of mind and reasonable health, I will continue in my quest. I don't know if I'll be able to write another “Clint Eastwood”: I suppose the only way you can write a song like that is not to think too much about it”
Despite their two-decade-long career, the Gorillaz, the cartoon band born from the brilliant minds of singer and multi-instrumentalist Damon Albarn and comic artist Jamie Hewlett, manage to maintain their stature, releasing yet another intriguing piece of a solid and colorful discography.
“Cracker Island”, the eighth studio album, is a small pop gem of serene freshness. Distant from the choral and kaleidoscopic episodes that have represented the group's most lively moments (ranging from the acclaimed “Plastic Beach”, through the monumental “Humanz”, and reaching the more bizarre and recent “Song Machine”), the album aligns more closely with the intimate coordinates of the laconic “The Now Now”, both in terms of the obsessive need to bounce from one genre to another (something minimized here), and in terms of the number of collaborators, which is smaller but meticulously selected (the prominent names of prodigy Thundercat, the sage Beck, the raggaeton streaming phenomenon Bad Bunny, and the magnetically versatile Kevin Parker, with his creation, Tame Impala, emerge).
10 tracks and an essential runtime ensure a cohesion and form of the album that until now seemed to be of little interest to the group. To be clear, there is no lack of willingness to play with the most diverse genres, but what has been lacking in much of the band's releases was a dialogue between the various tracks that ensured a sense of unity: in “Cracker Island”, the operation seems to have succeeded, and the sense of unity gives greater dignity to this vital project.
Timid and melancholic, yet also bouncy and catchy, the work blends a wide range of musical currents, setting up a rich and succulent banquet. There's the sticky funk of the title track, the delicate synth pop of “Silent Running”, the calm reggaeton of “Tormenta”, the delirious urban rave schizophrenia of “Skinny Ape”, and the desolate blues of the concluding “Possession Island”.
An excellent example of pop music that, despite numerous concessions to the charts, does not abandon a more elaborate and layered musical language, even daring to take risks.
However, what is missing (and it always has been) is that ability to leave an indelible mark on pop culture, assuming that role destined for a few as an "essential" band. A real drama, despite the rich and varied catalog. A need that, for obvious reasons, cannot be filled with an eighth (albeit brilliant) album.
Perhaps in the next life.
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