Demon Days – Gorillaz

The first time I actively listened to Gorillaz was in 2020 with the release of ‘Sound Machine’. I was indifferent to it. I guess it’s difficult to gauge the group when that album revolved around collaboration. It was a foolish choice of entry point on my behalf. ‘Demon Days’, on the other hand, is widely regarded as the crown jewel in the Gorillaz discography. That should make it the obvious gateway listen. But I didn’t like it. Initially. 

I’m a picky buggar and I had more than enough ammo to start firing off complaints on the first listen. The opening drums in ‘Last Living Souls’ were the sonic equivalent of a wet willy. The cartoonish production reappeared like a stubborn rash throughout the album. I was bracing myself for grating repeat listens given a similar production-related decline in enjoyment that I had experienced with Tyler’s ‘Chromakopia’. However, after watching the music videos I found the production complemented Gorillaz’ visuals. If you can concede that then you’ll appreciate the audio-visual can of worms this opens. For example, I found Damon Albarn’s sluggish vocal approach to mimic 2-D’s weary animation style. The album excels at drawing you into the playful but warped world of Gorillaz.

Another very specific gripe I had was the children’s choir in ‘Dirty Harry’. I’m sceptical about artists using children’s vocals. I remember a Red Hot Chili Peppers interview where John Frusciante’s justification for using a children’s choir for one of the songs was that he felt like it ‘meant something’. I sometimes feel that artists introduce children’s vocals to provide some vague emotional heft. They’ve done something, but what that is exactly no one bloody knows. But here it does feel significant. The song invites the listener to dance with the children’s vocals sounding innocent and playful, all while the lyrics are discussing human obsession warfare and violence. Perhaps I’m just adding meaning that isn’t there, but this album is thematically tight and deeper than the gloss would suggest.

I often long for a past that I haven’t experienced. Through my rose-tinted glasses, I have this impression that life was simpler, more rewarding and less transient before the Internet age. Or at least there was meaning and fulfilment in the transience of life. The everyday was appreciated more. It’s almost definitely a façade but I was struck with a nostalgic feeling on repeat listens which made me yearn for this world, some kind of lost innocence (even though I wasn’t even weaned off at the time of release). I’m going to coin the term timeless nostalgia as I imagine even at the time of release this album sounded homesick. The first words– ‘Are we the last living souls?’ – are the album’s thematic crux. There’s a desire to travel back to a time of feeling, sensitivity and living that we’ve lost and a disbelief at the world we’ve birthed. Sonically, ‘O Green World’, ‘El Mañana’ and ‘All Alone’ mash industrial sounds with the acoustic, as if the serene and peaceful world of old is battling with the present ‘Demon Days’. Tracks like ‘Every Planet We Reach Is Dead’ and ‘November Has Come’ are down beat but also have a nihilistic swagger to them, as if it’s the soundtrack to traversing this apocalyptic wasteland. This sonic landscape is hung like a tapestry across the album. ‘Kids with Guns’ shares themes with ‘Dirty Harry’, defiling innocence with violence. As a kid whose social life was limited to Call of Duty lobbies, I can reflect on the infatuation I had with violence as a kid. I used to skive every time a new release dropped. And it’s frightening really, especially because I was hot shit on multiplayer. And like most songs on this album, it has no right to be this catchy. It possesses one of many killer basslines found on the album and anyone near me recently will have heard me muttering ‘easy does it’ to myself.

Obviously, I was previously aware of the singles. I’ve always found ‘Feel Good Inc.’ captures that feeling of euphoria and clarity the morning after a night out before the hangover drags you down. ‘DARE’ is legendary, more so for the state of Sean Ryder at those live performances (I advise you to watch them if you’re clueless), and is probably the most danceable track. ‘El Mañana’ might be my favourite, perhaps due to under exposure. It’s the low of the album but it is tinged with optimism, especially via the title (tomorrow or the future or the morning for the linguistically challenged). Although the video is a depressing affair. That windmill is the visual beacon in my mind for the optimism and nostalgia present throughout this album, emblematic of that green world lost. The video doesn’t exactly depict a triumphant return to it.

But despite my enjoyment I’m going conclude on a downer. The final triplet of ‘Fire Coming Out of the Monkeys Head’, ‘Don’t Get Lost in Heaven’ and ‘Demon Days’ try to create this gospel assisted, ribbon-on-the-wrapping-paper grand finale but these are by far the weakest tracks. They don’t turn water to wine so much as curdle my piss. The first is a spoken word track that is subliminally telling me to skip it, the second is an underbaked interlude and the last just collapses under the weight of how epic it wants to be. Although it does nicely tie up the album’s themes with an optimistic outlook. In the interest of conserving wax, I won’t buy a record unless I enjoy every song on the album. But I truly am tempted to strut into HMV wallet in hand given how much fun the first 12 tracks are. Any album with the power to transport your mind’s eye like ‘Demon Days’ is worthy of the acclaim.