To say the world, let alone just the music industry has changed dramatically since 2010 is an understatement.
Disney was earning megabucks with films, only it wasn't superheroes and Star Wars, Robbie Williams rejoined Take That to starve off the midlife crisis on mum's everywhere, Suede and Pulp got their bands back together in the fall of Oasis dying the previous year and, linking us back to why you're here in the first place, it was the last time virtual band Gorillaz released not one, not three, but two albums.
In the gap between The Fall and now, Albarn has kept busy, reuniting his original moneymaking band Blur to a surprisingly good return with The Magic Whip, he brought out a sombre solo album which again, was pretty good and, for Gorillaz fans, he got into an argument with Gorillaz' other half Jamie Hewlett and subsequently put the band on hiatus, possibly for keeps.
But with Donald Trump's memetastic ascension as leader of the free world, Gorillaz are back with their first album in seven years with Humanz. Bringing a ton of friends, some familiar, some new, they're ready to deliver a party that could only work at the end of the world.
Unlike previous releases excluding The Fall (which'll be a phrase used several times in this review) where the project's albums fell to hip-hop's stereotypical trope of songs lasting an ice age, Humanz is split into shorter tracks with a multitude of guests throughout which, in on itself, is an issue with the album.
Much like Kanye West's latest album, the biggest problem with Humanz is the album feels like Albarn is a guest on his own album and is completely over-shadowed by his various collaborators.
A bigger problem that it has is that, whilst The Life of Pablo at least felt like an album with narrative themes connecting the songs, Humanz feels like a playlist on the shuffle, with the occasional filler-fluff interlude pretending to give the album a narrative flow, but instead makes it feel more disconnected than it's predecessors.
Ironically, it's Albarn's mostly solo effort, the melancholic anthem Busted and Blue which is the standout of the album. Excluding some backing vocals by Kelela, the song is a slow, sombre and sobering punch to the gut, which, whilst more akin to Albarn's solo album Everyday Robots, is the perfect antithesis to the rest of the party.
The rest of the album is mostly the same of simple synths, big beats, Albarn's 2D persona warbling either a verse in response to his guest or simply staying on the chorus whilst whichever said guest is present tries to infect the song with their own style to mix results.
Whilst real opener Ascension blitz's past with Vince Staples delivering a catchy chorus and verses on racism and hypocrisies with America, established veteran Grace Jones is left almost in the background of Charger, with a simple two note guitar lick and Albarn's repeats of "Cha-cha-charger" taking forefront, leaving Jones spouting nonsense but subsequently laughing afterwards.
De La Soul returns for their third outing with the band with Momentz, whilst lacking the playful flare of Superfast Jellyfish and the sinister insanity of Feel Good Inc., the song goes through the motions to begin but quickly transform slap-bang in the middle with pitch-altered vocals and an outro which spares the song it's blushes.
Whilst Momentz has, well moments, there's a multitude of songs which have little rhyme or reason for existing. Carnival featuring Anthony Hamilton is far too short to mean anything, with Hamilton himself almost masked behind the loudly mixed symbols on the chorus. The juvenilely titled Sex Murder Party is a slow trudge with a hook that desperately wants to be infectious, but loses it's charm within the first chant.
In fact, sparing the sexy and bouncy She's My Collar, the final segment of tracks are messy, scatterbrained and just go nowhere. I wasn't a fan of Hallelujah Money upon first listen and a multitude of tries later, it's still as unsatisfying as before.
Although poet Benjamin Clementine is present throughout as a guiding voice on several of the interludes, he spouts inspiration behind a dull, insipid track that's neither catchy nor interesting. Even though Clementine utilises numerous styles of singing and vocal styles, the song's music is still at the same slow, dull tempo.
Opposite that is the album's finalé We Got the Power; a short piece of pop fluff that doesn't work as the album's big send off. Savage's Jehnny Beth is featured as a wasted opportunity, she shouts one a line of french and repeating the title in the harmonious chorus, but again, the song is too short and uninspired and certainly doesn't work as a closing track.
Whilst the majority of the tracks are thankfully not too long and don't drag, as a cohesive piece, the album simply doesn't work. Worse still, excluding The Fall, you could be tricked into believing that somehow, there was a quartet of artists who crafted these albums and simply brought some guests, but instead, it simply feels like a mixbag of artists Albarn likes, subsequently brought along despite their with numerous clashes of styles and made a decent mixtape.
Whilst there are some gems, the aforementioned Busted and Blue, Ascension, Saturnz Barz, Charger and She's My Collar, there's just far too much boring bits of filler sprinkled throughout to make Humanz an absolute must hear.
Instead, Humanz is an album where it's principle musical player is a guest to his own party, a highlight when allowed to showcase, but otherwise lost in the cacophony of baffling decisions, some dull tracks, some excellent but, as an album, excluding The Fall, a considerable distance from it's predecessors.
6/10
H
@Retcon_Nation
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