Matthew Kelly1001 Albums You Must Die Before You Hear
#118: Damon Albarn – Everyday Robots (2014)
MATT KELLY is surprised and shocked to find that without the collaborations that are his stock in trade Damon Albarn has a yawningly empty musical larder.
I know, I know. I’m surprised too.
During all the mad side projects and excursions into hip-hop and electro-pop and Afrobeat and opera, you’d think that somewhere amidst all those twists and turns Albarn’s reach would exceed his grasp and produce a really shit album. But no, it’s his simply self-credited debut where he does something he’s never done before – bore the living shit out of me.
After all the diversity Albarn has accomplished, you might be wondering what genre he’s exploring on the first official release in his own name. Well, I’ve heard it several times and I’m still wondering. It’s so bland and grey and faceless. Indietronic world-downbeat maybe? The problem with the term “indietronic world-downbeat” is that this three-word phrase alone is infinitely more interesting than the 46-minute 12-song album.
There’s no life or rhythm or melody in these tracks, just glum, self-indulgent texture. He drones into tepid, empty musical backings so hollow I checked for Chris Martin co-writes. Martin isn’t here, but Brian Eno is, and it speaks to how dull this is that BRIAN OMFG ENO is on the tracklist and I still cannot. Give. A. Shit.
Oxygen-free songs like ‘The Selfish Giant’ make me feel like I’m slowly being sucked out of an airlock into the cold void of space only I don’t mind because there was nothing to do on the space station anyway. On and on it plods, with Albarn’s lethargic vocals, tedious percussion and nothing resembling a hook.
From annoying production choices like the water-torture squeaky string sample on the title track to the dumb, infuriatingly naive WOMAD daycare dropoff soundtrack that is ‘Mr Tembo’, Everyday Robots is a desolate beige moorland, the listener casting about in vain for any recognisable landmark or distinguishing features. Moping his way through ‘Lonely Press Play’, Albarn takes foot-dragging in music to bold new heights.
Making it uncomfortably clear why Albarn’s successes have always come from collaboration, this lethally unengaging record is not even recommended to diehards.
