A review of Damon Albarn's "Everyday Robots"

Everything on Damon Albarn's first solo album* falls into two categories: Sparse, Melodic and Morose, and Sparse, Melodic and Jubilant.

Mostly the former.

Because of the abundance of the morose though, the few jubilant tracks like "Mr. Tembo", "Parakeet" and "Heavy Seas of Love" shine more brightly; chrome wet with rain and reflecting sunlight.

Almost every track has an interesting bit of percussion or scrap of texture that makes the whole work stand out and keep things compelling.

Which should go without saying, I mean, this is Damon Albarn, an artist who, in my opinion, should be spoken of in the same breath as Thom Yorke and Trent Reznor with regards to his accomplishments and contributions to modern music, and his experimental heart. In fact, I might go as far as saying that, of those three, Albarn is the boldest, the one who takes the most risks.

There are times when Albarn's message, that we're all isolated from one another by the technology that was originally designed to bring us closer to one another, gets a bit belabored, like on the title track,"Hollow Ponds" and "You & Me", but it's done in a way that doesn't really feel overbearing, although my personal jury is still out when it comes to artists using technology to condemn technology.

I mean, do you own an iPhone, Damon? Did you jot the lyrics about how awful phones are ("we are everyday robots on our phones") on your iPhone? Didn't you shoot two of the videos for the album on one of these demonic telephonic contraptions?

To be fair, he does take a moment here and there to extol the virtues of technology, on "Lonely Press Play", for instance, so I guess he's not wholeheartedly vilifying technology?

Or, is he making a statement by using technology to expound upon the evils of technology?
Or should we give a shit?
Ah.
There's the real question.
Let's focus on, you know, the music, rather than the messages that might, or might not, be in the music.
Shall we?
Yes.

One of my favorite devices on Robots is the continuity. I love me some continuity, and this album is rife with it; the whole thing ebbs and flows just like the oceans we see in Albarn's videos.
Tracks that reflect the most of that wet sunlight include "You & Me", which has a wonderful, sorrowful evolution, "The History Of A Cheating Heart", which is just a bar of pure, sad gold, and "Hollow Ponds", the beeping, grinding, Haunted Mansion distortion on which really sums up Albarn's thoughts on the plague of technology in our society better than any lyrics on here.
As much as Albarn's beating a dead horse a bit with the whole "technology is bad" thing, the album certainly succeeds in making me feel spiteful towards technology, in making me feel disconnected from the people walking in droves around me, heads lowered in worship of and enthralled by their little screens.
The album closes perfectly with the jolly (yet still kind of morose) "Heavy Seas of Love", featuring Brian Eno on vocals sounding like Baloo from The Jungle Book.
Which I like.

People. If you enjoy Blur or Gorillaz or Rocket Juice and The Moon or The Good, The Bad & The Queen or Mali Music or any of Damon Albarn's myriad musical endeavors, just go get this. It's the core of what makes Damon Albarn Damon Albarn, and you're going to like it.
You're also going to be a hypocrite if you listen to it on an iPhone or any other device utilizing electricity as a power source.

* Not really counting Dr. Dee or Monkey.