The animated super group Gorillaz released its wildly successful debut less than seven months ago but is resurfacing just in time for all of the industry’s major-awards ceremonies and a much-hyped North American tour. Brandishing an inexplicable parental advisory warning and a running time that makes Amnesiac look like The Wall, the group’s latest release, the remix collection G-Sides, reeks of big-record-label manipulation.
That said, the group’s sophomore effort seems a little too conspicuously haphazard. Gone is the first album’s carefree spirit that created such an uncanny cohesiveness despite its brazen genre-hopping. Gone is the elated lyricism of Del tha Funkee Homosapien, whose contributions went largely overlooked on Gorillaz’ top-40 darling, “Clint Eastwood.” Most notably absent, though, is the shape-shifting presence of hip-hop renaissance man Dan “The Automator” Nakamura, who places the mostly-original material and b-sides in the hands of second-tier producers and emcees.
These are perfectly good reasons for fans of the first album to stew in skepticism before hearing track one, but the unrelenting catchiness and pure fun of G-Sides should prove to any malcontent that this supposed gimmick group is much more than a one-trick monkey.
The opening track is an infectious remix of “19-2000” that finds Damon Albarn’s sing-songy vocals backed nicely by light-hearted dub and piano loops. Another remix of the song by the Wiseguys House of Wisdom morphs into a rousing dance-floor anthem in the vein of Basement Jaxx, providing the unequivocal highlight of the album.
G-Sides makes the requisite foray into hip-hop with mixed results. Unknown emcees of Phi Life Cypher attempt to wax futuristic-philosophical on “The Sounder” and a revamped “Clint Eastwood,” but their staccato street-stylings feel incongruous with the melodic production.
The album gambles forward into its second half with pleasant surprise after pleasant surprise. “Ghost Train” features Albarn in fine form as he volleys choruses to himself while synth-heavy rhythms underscore his nasal delivery. The final track, “12D3,” is a hypnotic amalgam of instrumentation that lulls the listener into a sort of euphoric sleep.
The overall production value of the record is unexpectedly consistent and agreeable. The anonymous troupe of remix masters stays faithful to the indulgent quirks of the Automator’s work on Gorillaz, and they gel nicely with the British b-sides that thankfully found an appropriate stateside home in LP form.
Although The Automator’s presence is, for the most part, sorely missed, G-Sides proves that Gorillaz could continue using a rotating cast of characters and still pump out solid, biannual records. Given the unfortunate brevity, yet redeeming overall quality of G-Sides, it just might.
