Gorillaz albums are conceptual by default, but Damon Albarn and co. haven’t made a record as thematically grounded as The Mountain since Plastic Beach. Their new effort completes the unofficial trilogy that began 16 years ago with that album – even finalizing an outtake from it – and though it hardly matches its brilliance, the return of Albarn’s mournful candor fills the void left behind by 2023’s socially conscious Cracker Island. It’s also nearly as gorgeous. Inspired by his and artist Jamie Hewlett’s trips to India, but more so by the passing of both of their fathers, The Mountain is typical Gorillaz in that it brings together artists you’d never imagine on the same track, like superproducer Bizarrap and singer-songwriter Kara Jackson – but unique in poignantly juxtaposing Anoushka Shankar’s sitar playing with the voices of deceased former collaborators like Dennis Hopper, Proof, and Mark E. Smith. At times, the potency of its grief is overshadowed by the project’s characteristically grand scope. But when it doesn’t, you can see Gorillaz’s universal vision shining anew.

1. The Mountain [feat. Dennis Hopper, Ajay Prasanna, Anoushka Shankar, Amaan Ali Bangash, and Ayaan Ali Bangash]

A transportive bansuri melody floats over rippling percussion before an array of traditional Indian instruments buoy the track, with enough variation to justify the opener’s five-minute stretch. It’s a wondrous introduction that concludes with the late Dennis Hopper repeating the album’s name, situating The Mountain in a strangely, almost morbidly liminal zone. 

2. The Moon Cave [feat. Asha Puthli, Bobby Womack, Dave Jolicoeur, Jalen Ngonda, and Black Thought]

The lovely instrumentation blossoms a bit longer at the outset, but the preternaturally upbeat spirit of Gorillaz soon reveals itself. Damon Albarn sings, just as inevitably, of exhaustion, his voice straining and willfully overshadowed by his metaphysical effort to combine those of Black Thought, disco diva Asha Puthli, and one of the most recognizable voices in the group’s collaborative history, and the late Trugoy the Dove. It comes off a bit muddled, but I appreciate the record’s insistence on not touching ground yet, working its magic through symbolism. 

3. The Happy Dictator [feat. Sparks]

The pairing of Gorillaz and Sparks makes perfect sense, so it’s a shame the tune at the core of ‘The Happy Dictator’ is weak, if expectedly catchy. Its tongue-in-cheek optimism doesn’t lean into absurdity hard enough to earn lines like “I’ll propagate eternity and seal it with my kiss.” 

4. The Hardest Thing [feat. Tony Allen] 

The earnest melancholy of ‘The Hardest Thing’ fares much better, even, or especially, before it’s fashioned into the vibrant pop song that follows.

5. Orange County [feat. Bizarrap, Kara Jackson, and Anoushka Shankar]

Perhaps the most bizarre take Gorillaz have offered on the ‘On Melancholy Hill’ formula, but the thread connecting superproducer Bizarrap, singer-songwriter Kara Jackson, and sitarist Anoushka Shankar – grief, essentially – is so uncomplicated it somehow works. The whistling ensures you’ll find yourself emulating it in the real world, and Albarn beats the central line – “You know the hardest thing is to say goodbye to someone you love” – to death, like he’s heard it a million times in the past few years but still can’t force himself to not believe it. The impact of The Mountain rests on the fact that obvious sentiments are void of meaning except when they feel extremely profound – and since Jackson has plumbed the depths of grief on her debut album, it’s no surprise she can relay it in simpler poetry here.

6. The God of Lying [feat. IDLES]

The album’s cheerful impersonation of autocrats, whether happy or lying, falls flat, despite an impassioned guest turn from Joe Talbot. It goes to show the album’s conceptual ambitions aren’t nearly as strong as its emotional core. 

7. The Empty Dream Machine [feat. Black Thought, Johnny Marr and Anoushka Shankar]

Here it is back again, Albarn’s wistful desperation: ‘The Empty Dream Machine’ animates a nightly sense of dread with the hope of tomorrow’s catharsis, with Black Thought intoning, “A heart driven by the drum is what I borrow from in the shadowy light of the night.” The release never comes, but the rhythm persists. 

8. The Manifesto [feat. Trueno and Proof]

Albarn’s multicultural vision expands on ‘The Manifesto’, which brings together Argentine rapper Trueno and the late rapper Proof. A less ambitious artist would be happy enough with Trueno’s hard-hitting flow, wrapping the song up at conventional song length. Not Albarn, whose boldest statement isn’t any of the words he delivers at the end – though those are disarming enough – but his decision to enthrall the listener with Proof’s sobering freestyle, which includes the line, “You aren’t ready for death until I showed up.”

9. The Plastic Guru [feat. Johnny Marr and Anoushka Shankar]

The track indulges in more narrative detail than the rest of the album, though it doesn’t reveal much: “I looked into the eyes of the plastic guru/ Who lived on the mountain/ He was tied to the demon/ Burning in silence before the applause.”  Marr and Shankar’s contributions, meanwhile, drown underneath the weight of a placid chorus.

10. Delirium [feat. Delirium]

The arrival of a new god does little to spice up the album’s storyline, much less when Albarn utters the lyric, “I’ve been out in the chat rooms waiting for the end to begin,” and the mountain starts to sound like the manosphere. Mark E. Smith’s maniacal chorus deserves a more compelling song. 

11. Damascus [feat. Omar Souleyman and Yasiin Bey]

Yasiin Bey is so delighted to be back and Syria’s Omar Souleyman easily matches his energy on ‘Damascus’. I guess surfing directionless in the dark sounds fun when you’re in good company. “Turkish coffee, Starbucks, you’re corny”? Sure, why not!

12. The Shadowy Light [feat. Asha Bhosle, Gruff Rhys, Ajay Prasanna, Amaan Ali Bangash, and Ayaan Ali Bangash]

The shadowy light mentioned earlier gets its own song – and while the ensemble of voices is affecting, it overbrightens a song that should have been more understated. 

13. Casablanca [feat. Paul Simonon and Johnny Marr]

Albarn’s introspection rests in the song’s plodding, dreamy beat, which gives his cinematic lyrics the room to breathe; this one will definitely hit harder alongside the animated visuals. The fact that it features both members of the Clash and the Smiths is only a bonus.

14. The Sweet Prince [feat. Ajay Prasanna, Johnny Marr, and Anoushka Shankar]

Finally breaking the veil of fantasy, Albarn eulogizes his father by portraying himself at his hospital bedside. “Looking out across the void/ I was trying to say I love you/ But you just looked the other way,” he sings, indulging, sweetly, in the metaphor of magical swords, if only in the chorus.

15. The Sad God [feat. Black Thought, Ajay Prasanna, and Anoushka Shankar]

It’s hard to imagine having ‘The Sweet Prince’ and deciding ‘The Sad God’ is a better closer; there’s not much of a tune here and Black Thought’s verse is his clunkiest on the album. But it’s satisfying to hear Ajay Prasanna and Anoushka Shankar’s interweaving instruments finally taking up space when words no longer suffice, drawing the album to a close like a much-needed exhale.