A Green Triumph, AKA Take on Plastic Beach

I want to preface this assessment by saying that weʼre in 2021 -- a new year. The following review was for a release Iʼve been ruminating over for ages; one that was going to make its A.H.M appearance earlier. Without further ado, hereʼs Plastic Beach courtesy of the revered virtual ensemble Gorillaz.

An extensive pop marvel -- and a visit to destruction. 

The “Noon” variant of the cover art. I own this bad boy through vinyl!

As stated in the preamble, Gorillaz are an animated group developed by Blur frontman Damon Albarn and cartoonist Jamie Hewlett. In the story canon, the lineupʼs comprised of lead vocalist/drugged savant 2-D; bassist/self-proclaimed leader Murdoc; guitarist/super soldier Noodle; and drummer/psychic Russel. Conceived as a response to how spurious MTV was, Gorillaz would go from a niche product to making a far bigger splash. In a word, itʼs a VICTORIOUS gimmick that moved above and beyond the proverbial ploy. From a musical/theme perspective, eclecticism was a skill the outfit possessed since Day One, and there was always an urge to take a collaborative approach to things.

Hitting the waves in 2010, Plastic Beach came about as an entity titled Carousel, which would reinforce Britainʼs ineffable traits. The unfinished work carried a somber tone with a classical ingredient -- qualities the actual third album maintained, just expanded upon and done in a different sense. Serving as a critique on environmental torpedoing, Plastic Beach was darker than its predecessors, which said a lot considering the bandʼs desire to tackle conscious statements (e.g. “Dirty Harry” off Demon Days). The unhappiness pervading it mirrored what was happening to the cartoon members: chased by the Black Clouds, Murdoc set fire to whatever was left of their original Kong Studios site and sought refuge in Point Nemo, or referred to as... err, Plastic Beach. The infamous green man built a cybernetic replica of Noodle, had 2-D kidnapped against his will and spearheaded the full-length outing. Elsewhere the real Noodle (presumed dead) went into hiding on a cruise ship, whilst Russ grew DRASTICALLY in size as he was alone swimming in a radioactive sea containing toxic waste, pollution and shrimp. ...Holy shit, did Hewlett manage to make Phase 3 dense. The creators were attempting to do much more with this plot, except plans to follow through were cut short due to budgetary concerns. 

Despite its grim concept, Plastic Beachʼs direction was markedly sunnier than Gorillaz and Demon Days. Albarn aimed to make it a pop record with depth -- and he prospered, as did the partners that contributed. No Gorillaz entry would be complete without experimentalism, which the material bore in spades. Symphonic influences can be heard best on “Orchestral Intro” and “Cloud of Unknowing”, while hip hop played a central role during pieces like the Snoop Dogg led “Welcome to the World of the Plastic Beach,” “White Flag,” “Superfast Jellyfish” and “Sweepstakes” -- the latter incorporating lively (albeit manic) brass musicianship and a clever ‘repetitious-by-design’ nature. Coming out of retirement for his granddaughter’s sake, the late Bobby Womack’s vocals added soul into foreboding synthetic banger “Stylo” opposite the Mighty Mos Def (aka Yasiin Bey as of recent) and fifteenth piece. The urban textures of olden Gorillaz made way for electronica-esque production techniques supplied by the entourage recalling the distant past, present and future. 

From start to finish, Plastic Beach is the equivalent of a soundtrack to a blockbuster film that doesn’t exist. Out of every Gorillaz installment, I find this one comes the closest to functioning as a motion picture. It’s poetic cinema adept at engaging the majority with rich storytelling in visuals, music and characters. The hypothetical movie proves tough to pigeonhole, and its wide range of styles shake off the specified designating; for that same reason, there’s the matter of Plastic Beach’s special guests, who serve as its actors. With a cast featuring established musicians such as Lou Reed, De La Soul, Swedish electronic troupe Little Dragon and The Clash’s Mick Jones and Paul Simonon, these folks complement Albarn’s harmonies about as well as they do the mythos. 

Within the band’s discography, Plastic Beach wasn't their most consistent effort on a track-by-track basis. The sinister marching vibe “Pirate Jet” emanated was apropos, but the song itself faded before it got to take off. Meanwhile the otherwise incredible chorus Gruff Rhys dropped on “Superfast Jellyfish” was sabotaged by the most inane bars De La Soul wrote; not helped by the occasionally goofy cadences the trio put on (that “Look, it comes with a toy!” line being the icing on the cringe cake). And “Orchestral Intro” felt redundant next to the true opener -- which included Snoop’s mellow, lethargic and always cool drawl attached to the rhythmic, explosive instrumentals. At any rate, that’s 3 out of 16, and the remainder of this offering fared better. Plastic Beach’s highs were head and shoulders above the choice cuts off Gorillaz’ first two LPs ({gasp} blasphemy!), and the weaker compositions still worked in thematic context. As far as full experiences are concerned, the album was an exhilarating 56 minutes packed with ingenious songwriting, performances and an omnipotent need for love and tenacity even in a post-apocalyptic backdrop. 

A quick shout-out is in order. For purchasing the vinyl for me, thank you, Mom! I’d also like to thank the Academy for telling me contaminating is bad, bad, BAD.