The Now Now

A record that’s more reflective and human than you’d ever expect from a band of literal cartoons.

A Gorillaz album that, for once, acts not as loudspeaker for the cacophony of modern life, but a salve instead.

All in all, The Now Now feels fresh and present. Gorillaz have performed a type of sonic reset by stripping back their cast of collaborators, yet it exemplifies the strength of the songwriting at the group's core.

For this album, Mr. Albarn stays decisively in the foreground. His main collaborator here is the producer James Ford, from Simian Mobile Disco, and together they surround Mr. Albarn’s voice with subliminally nostalgic synthesizers: puffy, rounded, unaggressive tones that provide a cozy backdrop for Mr. Albarn’s morose reveries. ... In the mysterious chemistry of songwriting, the partnership with Mr. Hewlett’s visuals has been a reliable catalyst. Behind the cartoon mask, there’s freedom.

Formally, it echoes the 2010 fan club giveaway The Fall: radically shortened guest list, written-on-the-road simplicity, songs named for locales (in this case red, blue and otherwise--"Kansas,” "Idaho,” "Magic City,” etc.) The songs are better, though, and they don't waste too much time on regionalism.

If Humanz was a reaction about a world that seemed to be heading to hell, then The Now Now is a more spaced-out affair, stripped of its star-studded collaborations and bathed in the apparent apathy of the modern age.

20 years after the outlines of the band was first sketched by co-creator Jamie Hewlett, the band clearly still stands as a vivid creative outlet for Albarn. He’s managed to tap into the chaotic ethos so electrifying and unpredictable first time round, and reanimate the band’s fortunes in dazzling fashion.

It’s no Plastic Beach, but, by ditching the often hackneyed attempts to stay relevant that verged on self-parody and digging into their identity and other existential fears, Gorillaz have demonstrated that they still have the power to feel vital.

Far from the carnival of featured guests that was 2017’s 26-track Humanz, though, The Now Now, at 11 tracks and with only three comparatively unobtrusive features (Snoop Dogg and Jamie Principle appear on Hollywood) is tighter conceptually but looser as a listening experience.

It's that juxtaposition between sunshiny pop and yearning lyrics that defines much of The Now Now. ... This latest chapter in the Gorillaz story sounds like a deeply confessional one. [Summer 2018, p.108]

The lines are often not so clearly drawn, and there are shades of 13, the 1999 post breakup album that Albarn made with his band Blur throughout, but the dark, foreboding clouds that hover over everything here will feel familiar to anyone who has picked up a newspaper or opened their Twitter accounts at any point in the last 18 months or so.

Overall, The Now Now would work better if it fully embraced its melancholy.

Gorillaz' music is frequently very sad, but while Plastic Beach looked wistfully on a dying world and songs like "El Mañana" live in fantasy, The Now Now rises from a more personal place of ennui.

Perhaps this doesn't make for a listen that's as wild or adventurous as its companion, but it's ultimately more satisfying, as the internal journey mirrors the evolution of the pop landscape in the 21st century. What was once a rowdy, colorful party is now a soundtrack for bittersweet solitude.

The album flows well, with a funky instrumental interlude picking up the pace nicely around the middle and its relatively short run time making it a light and breezy experience.

That the ‘World’s Most Successful Virtual Band’ sounds like something you’ve probably seen on the YouTube sidebar is apt. Otherwise, it seems to be business as usual on another jubilant and solidly varied Gorillaz album.

It feels like Albarn in transit, both physically and mentally. [Aug 2018, p.27]

It might be too humble for its own good, but The Now Now is the rare commercial sojourn that feels like a product of real fascination.

Even if The Now Now comes across as a solo effort from Albarn, it is still a far improvement on the bloated and playlist-y nature of Humanz which masked everything that is interesting about Gorillaz in its Jumbotron collaborators. Albarn is at his most interesting when he is in the spotlight.

How much Gorillaz fans enjoy The Now Now will depend on why they became fans in the first place. Anyone captivated by Hewlett’s world-building will probably feel a little let down, as will those who fell for their eclectic, big-tent approach to pop. That leaves the Damon Albarn diehards.

When there’s too much Albarn, there are too many songs shooting for the insidious sadness of On Melancholy Hill, and hitting the pleasant, inconsequential mark instead. Yes, Idaho, Lake Zurich and Souk Eye aren’t bad songs, but you’ll miss the bass and big choruses.

The Now Now ultimately sounds exactly what it is: music made on the road as an escape from homesickness.

Unfortunately, outside of those songs [Humility, Hollywood, Tranz, Sorcererz, and Lake Zurich] (which would have made for an excellent EP) The Now Now falls short, the grit and grandiosity of other Gorillaz records is absent.

While these songs are often good, they also lack the colour and experimental zeal of Gorillaz’ best work.

This is a record that manages to feel both trapped and rootless. [Aug 2018, p.90]

For now, Gorillaz seem content to oscillate between extremes, a futuristic pop powerhouse that cannot decide what the future looks like.