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Back to: Archive · 2001 Graphic Jam From the NME, 31 March 2001. Review by Alex Needham. Venue: London King's Cross Scala. So how was it for you? The assembled celebrities and media monkeys (Helena Christensen, Sadie'n'Jude, Ant'n'Dec) can't decide. Was it a bona fide Art Happening or a birrova swizz? In confounding expectations so completely, virtual band Gorillaz's first live gig has to be described as an unqualified success, even though there's the undoubted air of a scam behind it all. So this is what the audience at the Scala saw: a vast screen, stretched from one end of the stage to the other, on which Murdoc, 2D, Noodle and Russel appear in various scenarios - some already familiar from the Gorillaz website and two videos. Slogans announce that what we're hearing is 'zombie hip-hop' and 'dark pop' - meanwhile, the people actually making the music are hidden behind the screen, though crafty backlighting shows them silhouetted from time to time. And even from this alone, it's obvious that they're giving it loads. The dub and hip-hop which make up Gorillaz's staple musical diet is rendered with genuine bite and panache (no mean feat for a fundamentally studio-based music), while the shadowy figure of Damon Albarn, clad in a baseball cap and wielding a tambourine, sings and dances with abandoned glee. His pleasure seems to derive from Gorillaz's complete defiance of the concept of performance. However great the band are (and they are) there's a barrier to the audience's appreciation 12ft high and 30ft wide. And the cartoon characters on the screen don't perform in the conventional sense; they throw rock star shapes, chase around London and zoom from one end to the other. Sometimes they don't appear at all; 'Man Research' is accompanied by rather nasty footage of a blood-spattered S&M lesbian ménage, while sections from Nosferatu illustrate 'Dracula'. And it's at points like these where the whole thing seems rather jaded and you ask yourself why Gorillaz bothered playing live at all. Wouldn't it all make just as much sense broadcast on Channel 4 in the graveyard 'arts' slot? The performance concludes with 'Punk', Gorillaz staring moodily out of the screen. (None of the humans behind it have appeared all evening; nor will they.) Then, something rather wonderful happens. The lights go on, and the Ed Case garage mix of 'Clint Eastwood' strikes up. On a balcony, far above our heads, reggae legend Sweetie Irie performs the song with four ragga dancers, throwing out customised £20 notes, looking brilliant. Damon is only present as a voice on the DJ's dubplate, but it seems completely right. Though his reputation as the archetypal pop smart arse makes some fear Gorillaz, their best work is a triumphant denial of the superstar ego. Super, ape! |