By Elizabeth Lehman
On Feb. 27, the Gorillaz released their ninth studio album, “The Mountain”. “The Mountain” sounds unlike anything you’ve heard from Gorillaz before. The opening track is obviously inspired by Indian music. And it’s not surprising considering this track features Dennis Hopper, Ajay Prasanna, Anoushka Shankar and Amaan Ali Bangash.
The track itself feels eerie and calming at the same time. Bubbly drums, sweeping strings and gorgeous wind instruments build slowly into a layered instrumental chorus that feels almost spiritual. Airy male vocalizations drift back and forth. It sounds almost like meditation chants. By the end, the repeated phrase “the mountain” turns the whole thing hypnotic and ritualistic, like the album is inviting you into its world.
This dreamy atmosphere continues into “The Moon Cave,” which intro sounds like something out of a classic Disney fairytale before it suddenly flips into an upbeat dance track. The vocals come from Damon Albarn, the voice behind 2-D, but here they’re warped through distortion filters that give them a strange retro edge. The lyrics are hard to make out, but it feels intentional. This track is about the vibe. Halfway through, Black Thought jumps in with a rap breakdown. The beat feels reminiscent of Latin rap.
Then comes “The Happy Dictator,” featuring Sparks. Inspired by a trip to Turkey, this track satirically opens with angelic vocals. Maybe it’s a soprano, maybe it’s a synth choir. It sings over a ritualistic melody that concludes with the word “amen.” Right when you settle into that groove, the track flips to ’70’s style Hindi pop. Staccato rhythms and arpeggios drive the beat. The robot was made for this song. This track is chaotic in a strangely beautiful way. The recurring flute motif from earlier tracks returns here too, quietly tying the album together before the song fades into a soft echo. “Oh, what a happy land we live in.”
“The Hardest Thing” is one of the more emotional songs from the album. It features the late Tony Allen. Tony Allen’s deep baritone chants in Yorùbá, “Oya, é dì dé, è róo òri” (Get up, we’re almost home) three times. It immediately sets a solemn tone. The arpeggios here feel different from the earlier tracks. They rise and fall like waves of grief. The flute returns again, joined by angelic horns and layered vocals that guide the listener through something closer to a spiritual hymn than a conventional pop song. Then, as suddenly as it began, the track ends. The abrupt silence mirrors the suddenness of death.
“Orange County” feels like a direct continuation of the previous track. It opens with the line “Y’know the hardest thing… Is to say goodbye to someone you love.” The phrase repeats throughout the song, anchoring the track in the same theme of grief. A melancholy whistle carries the melody at first but when the upbeat backtrack kicks in, it flips the mood entirely. The mournful track suddenly feels alive. The instrumentation here is some of the most complex on the album: layered, playful and full of complexity. The breakdown is bright and plucky, a welcome shift after the heaviness of the previous track. It captures something honest about grief: we heal, but we never forget. The song closes by circling back to the line “that’s the hardest thing,” completing the emotional journey right back at the start.
The mood darkens again with “The God of Lying,” featuring the British post-punk band IDLES. It has a sinister beat that reminds me of some of Gorillaz’s earlier material. IDLES takes the forefront here, delivering their gritty vocals over a spacey retro instrumental. The synth sounds like someone is playing Space Invaders in the background and losing. The breakdown doesn’t hit quite as hard as it could but the beat itself is ridiculous enough to carry the whole track. It’s experimental, hypnotic and is best played on big speakers to get the full effect of the song’s absolute best.
There are seven more tracks on the album worth digging into, but the one that stuck with me the most is “The Manifesto.” It might be my favorite Gorillaz song, period.
The track opens with a playful groove built around a triangle, something you’d never expect from the band. Trueno jumps in with a Spanish verse that adds yet another flavor to the mix. Then halfway through, the song completely flips. Proof slides in with a hard gangster rap framed by dark mafia horns and suddenly the track explodes with creativity. It’s layered, chaotic in the best way, and somehow every piece fits.
Trueno returns again later, weaving Spanish verses back into the track before everything collapses into a gorgeous rhythmic breakdown from Damon. It’s one of those songs that’s impossible to describe, you really just have to hear it for yourself. The sounds might be familiar, but the way they’re arranged here is something else entirely.
“The Mountain” feels like a band experimenting with sound, grief and spirituality all at once. Somehow they make it work. I would recommend this album to anyone who wants to be taken somewhere strange, layered and unexpectedly passionate and emotional.
I would give this album 4 out of 5 stars.