Album: Plastic Beach
Artist: Gorillaz
Randy: R&B elder statesman, Bobby Womack, sits on the leeward side of Plastic Beach’s peak on the “Cloud of Unknowing.” His gravelly gospel rides orchestral air currents, soaring somewhere between the seagulls and the solar system.
While Snoop Dogg is the album’s Wal-Mart greeter, Little Dragon the windswept schoolboy crush, and Albarn’s reticence aligning with his toon’s emo-tossed haircut, Womack croons a breath of spiritual oxygen into an atmosphere otherwise worked into a moody and amnesiac lather.
Without “Cloud of Unknowing” it would be easy to think that Plastic Beach is all fun and games (until somebody gets their heart broken). But Womack’s grandfatherly growl is a guide, serving as a reorientation of the island’s aesthetic compass. It’s less ‘glory hallelujah’ and more ‘rise with the sun,’ before gently descending back to the beach’s looping take-off and landing point on the “Pirate Jet.” Verdict: [A]
Kyle: Objection: For "Cloud of Unknowing," Damon Albarn exhumes the corpse of Robert Womack a second time, puppeting him around like a karaoke version of the title character from Weekend at Bernie's. But without Womack's peculiar blend of overfelt preteen cliches expressed through a box-of-rocks, hurts-your-throat-to-listen post-Motown wail, the final stretch of Plastic Beach would have simply been too good.
Sandwiching Womack's paleolithic groans between Little Dragon and Albarn's stunning "To Binge" and the perfect bookend "Pirate Ship" acts as an auditory palette cleanser, giving the listener a chance to take a breath and turn down the volume for a few minutes before finishing up an otherwise gorgeous album. Womack is a necessity out of fairness to the talent: a retired record agent for the real musicians of Plastic Beach. Verdict: [B]
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