It’s hard to believe, after such a long and varied career, that ‘Everyday Robots’ is the debut solo album from Damon Albarn; the modern day originator, innovator and instigator of all things British.
The album is full of tracks that establish Albarn’s position as the always interesting – and genuinely interested – musician, never shying away from opportunities that will expand horizons from the view of the Westway.
However, some of the locations and anecdotes shared within this body of work such as Leytonstone to Westborough Grove and elsewhere, which although are the starting points for his life, also parallel his nature as a newbie to the idea of a solo record. As a result the endless list of collaborators with which he has worked (Lou Reed, Bobby Womack, Lana Del Ray, Mos Def, Paul Weller, Snoop Dog etc) are stacked high and heavy, but on this record, despite the strength of the songs, they can appear slow and slightly timid.
The title-track’s gentle, mystical and skeletal structure discusses the pros and cons of being in an age consumed by flashing lights and forwarding emails, a trademark mismatch of electronic instrumentation and folk traits which deliver the song’s nature as being both man and machine wrapped in wires, but also warmth. The harmonious vocals add to the synthetic feel, providing a masterstroke of English songwriting that no matter how many textures the songs are buried under, remains a distinct factor throughout.
‘Hostiles’ continues with this theme, the thinnest of songs offering in return the maximum of emotional impacts. Albarn’s trademark melodies are a burning desire to cram almost everything into each tune, and it comes across strong when accented and executed right. ‘Lonely Press Play’ exemplifies this notion; a subtle and swaying dub-ballad that will sail the listener safe into dreamland.
Producer Richard Russell has allowed the chains and reigns of Albarn’s melancholic nature to deter slightly, unleashing the funk and free side of his craft; a song about an African elephant in ‘Mr. Tembo’ doesn’t disappoint, but is weak when compared to the album’s overriding theme of childhood and the challenges of life on an entirely personal level.
The idea of experimenting and dabbling in the darker, more devilish aspects of growing up is not overwhelming to the point of exhaustion though; ‘The Selfish Giant’, a computerized and sensitive collaborative effort with Bat For Lashes, and ‘You and Me’ click and clap along with background noises like lonely satellites facing the emptiness of space; personal yes, as the much discussed heroin experience of ‘creative’ Damon is told.
‘Hollow Ponds’ and ‘History Of a Cheating Heart’ are perfect songs if you love Albarn’s signature songwriting style; superb with their acoustic guitar naivety and minimalistic power, allowing less to be more. ‘Heavy Seas of Love’ is rich and grand and creamy, its baroque and beautiful voices operating as one, heartfelt and bass-heavy, noting that even in an era dominated by iPad, iPop and soon to be iPeople, the very essence of a fantastic tune is still the ultimate tool for dismantling such obsessions and revealing the very basic elements of human nature.
‘Everyday Robots’ undoubtedly stands as a good record. Albarn is not new to the idea of making music at all, but the frailties and the fragilities of a solo album are apparent; traits which in fact give this LP some of its finest of moments.