The Mountain is Gorillaz on a musical expedition, reaching the summit where the air is thinner and the view wider, and somehow the cartoon band has never sounded more human.
For a band born as a cartoon experiment at the tail end of the Britpop hangover, Gorillaz have become something akin to a roaming, shape-shifting republic. Their new album, The Mountain, feels like a musical passport thick with ink, each page stamped in sound. Across 15 tracks, Damon Albarn and company take on new terrain, both literal and spiritual. Recorded in London, Devon, Miami, Jaipur, Mumbai, New Delhi and Rishikesh, the album scales new heights. Songs drift between English, Arabic, Hindi, Spanish and Yoruba, as if language itself was just another instrument in the mix. The result is music without borders that pulses with devotional intensity one minute and neon-streaked urgency the next.
The guest list reads like a global summit: sitar virtuoso Anoushka Shankar, legendary vocalist Asha Bhosle, Argentine hitmaker Bizarrap, The Roots’ razor-tongued Black Thought, former Clash bassist Paul Simonon, and Johnny Marr of The Smiths, among many others. Syrian wedding-circuit firestarter Omar Souleyman collides with Welsh mystic-pop architect Gruff Rhys. It should feel chaotic. Instead, it feels completely in control. There are also spectral presences in the mix. The voices of Dennis Hopper, Bobby Womack, Dave Jolicoeur, Tony Allen, Proof, and Mark E. Smith appear like echoes ricocheting off rock walls, reminding listeners that Gorillaz have always fitted their future from fragments of the past.
Production duties are shared between Albarn, Remi Kabaka Jr., James Ford, Samuel Egglenton and Bizarrap, and the chemistry is combustible. Beats throb and synths shimmer like heat haze rising off the street. One track might unfurl with meditative patience, tracing raga-inspired melodies, while the next barrels forward on punk basslines and hip-hop vibes.
Visually, Jamie Hewlett’s artwork captures Murdoc, Noodle, Russel and 2D immersed in India’s vivid textures. The illustrations are intricate and alive, a reminder that Gorillaz remain as much graphic novel as band. The characters wander through peaks and valleys, avatars navigating life’s steep inclines with weary grins and unending hope. Nearly three decades into their animated existence, Gorillaz still refuse to lose their humanity.