Review Summary: "No one can deny the genius behind the album’s lush, carefully crafted production or the electronic flourishes that sound way ahead of its time. What it seemed lacking are the hooky anthems. Those big pop moments that made us fall in love with them.
Stripped off studio tricks and instruments-driven jams, The Fall might seem to be a homemade record that’s steeped in jarring, digital noise - one that is produced in the spirit of vanity. It turns out, Gorillaz’s lead auteur Damon Albarn wants to keep track of his experiences during the band’s short-lived North American tour. He bares it all in a minimalist electro record, using nothing but iPad applications.
Call it conceit or creative ennui, his idea has led into unfavorable results, almost veering away from the natural brilliance highly observed in previous albums Demon Days and Plastic Beach. No one can deny the genius behind the album’s lush, carefully crafted production or the electronic flourishes that sound way ahead of its time. What it seemed lacking are the hooky anthems. Those big pop moments that made us fall in love with the band in the first place. Everything in this record feels so gimmicky, self-absorbed, and way too personal. It’s an experiment that heavily relies on digital manipulation and synthesizers, but fails to fit into the sonic complexity that it tries so hard to achieve.
The Fall isn’t bad. At its best, the record dares to offer surprising doses of charm, even hinting to brilliance. “Amarillo,” an ode to roadtrip sadness, had Damon Albarn singing, “The Sun is gonna save me, put a little love into my lonely soul.” It’s a stab to his Britpop days, rummaging through the annals of heartbreaking lyricism and introspection-- something that we haven’t heard in a Gorillaz track for quite a while. “Bobby In Phoenix” marks the return of the great Bobby Womack whom he had worked with in last year’s excellent Plastic Beach. The guest soul singer practices restraint and schmaltz, and gives an entrancing leeway to what seems to be the most organic track in the heavily electronic-influenced album.
“The Parish Of Space Dust” is Damon’s very own definition of Texas: a boring, lifeless place. The song builds a funeral orchestra out of sparse beats and organ pipes, one that detaches itself from the supposed sunny vibe that the Southern State is known for. Damon Albarn already perfected the knack for transporting moody music into breathing, accurate descriptions. It’s one of his biggest strengths; but when overwhelmed, it does alienate. And that’s when the problem arises.
The album’s confessional feel has brought along with it a run-on of jaded textures and sonics that reflect the very description of what Damon felt during the North American tour. However, every elements present in the record feels ostensibly rushed and over-indulgent as it is sincere. For every space-soul noirs and experiments, The Fall leans on trying too hard, excising what’s left of every unimaginable sound there is in a tablet production. It wants to floor its listeners to its universe. It steps up, but most likely fails to do so. Technology can only do so much. And I guess after this bunch of experiments, we can all move forward and wait until a new Gorillaz album drops out in the near future.
