ÒWell, first I found out he lived two streets away
from me Ñ amazing coincidence!Ó Damon Albarn is munching his supper,
talking over the phone from England. Between bites, he explains how he
first hooked up with bassist Paul Simonon of the Clash to form their new
supergroup, The Good, the Bad & the Queen. ÒPaul came down and he liked
the stuff, and from that moment onwards, we were on the right path. And
that resulted in this record.Ó
Albarn Ñ erstwhile leader of Britpop
icons Blur and alternative concept band Gorillaz Ñ also recruited guitarist
Simon Tong (the Verve, Gorillaz), Fela Kuti drum master Tony Allen and
producer Danger Mouse (Gorillaz, Gnarls Barkley, et al.). The result is a
miraculously even-tempered presentation of beautifully moody Ñ but not
broody Ñ tunes, evoking a trek from English music halls of lore down
through punk rock, over to the Afrobeat and skanky dub styles of the Õ60s
and Õ70s.
But before recording a note
together, Albarn and Simonon sat and talked. Yeah, they talked about music
and art and all that, but mostly they talked about their very special place
of residence in West London. Particular aspects of the local history soon
gave rise to a theme of sorts for the album, and it seems to have resonated
well in England: The Good, the Bad and the Queen has topped the charts for weeks.
ÒThe part we live in, North
Kensington, generally doesnÕt get much funding,Ó the affable, unassuming
Simonon chimes in. ÒBut whatÕs interesting, youÕve got a lot of different
cultures pretty much on the fringes or within the area of Portobello.
EveryoneÕs from different places, different religions, but itÕs not
ghettoized. Everybody sort of brushes past each other and seems to get on
okay. And I think thatÕs quite healthy.Ó
ÒItÕs a very colorful place,Ó Albarn
says. ÒQuite mixed, diverse. It has all the classic social barriers and
ghettos, but they seem to be in a kind of coexistent and fluid way. And
itÕs on top of a hill, so youÕve got sunrises and sunsets Ñ itÕs a good
starting point for something about the country and its horizons.Ó
Making music Õcause it feels like
the right thing to do, at a specific time and place: ItÕs an oddly unusual
scheme that can produce results of depth and subtle splendor. Such is the
case with The Good, the Bad and the Queen. ItÕs a charming little artifact whose lack of
pomp and circumstance summons savory pictures of a town and a time perhaps
not so unlike our own. Cheering sundown music, you could say.
Albarn felt this record needed at
least two things: collaboration with truly sympathetic souls, and excellent
bass playing. Simonon hadnÕt been playing much bass since his Clash days, instead
devoting his time to his passion for painting Òand playing
spaghetti-Western guitar over dub records.Ó But with Albarn, he found it
easy to get back into the swing of bass Ñ and found himself digging it.br>
ÒWell, itÕs funny,Ó he says,
Òbecause about two months before I got the call from Damon, I had done a
small show with Mick Jones, Bobby Gillespie [Primal Scream] and some other
luminaries for a friendÕs birthday party. I hadnÕt played bass for a very
long time, not in public, anyway, not on a record or anything. And I
suppose I got a bit of a taste of it, you know?Ó
And then he found a great new mate
in Albarn, a much younger artist with whom he nevertheless shared a lot of
musical tastes and, even more, whose personal integrity Simonon was partial
to.
ÒI quite admired the fact that Damon
had turned down an invitation when Tony Blair was going into office,Ó says
Simonon. ÒBlair invited all the pop stars and personalities of the day to
come down to celebrate his entry into No. 10 Downing Street, and Damon sent
a letter saying that he wasnÕt gonna be going. ItÕs the sort of thing that
I feel important, that maybe musicians shouldnÕt find themselves too
closely connected to politicians, especially if theyÕve just been voted in,
because you never know what their policies are and how things will go, and
youÕre all tied in with that by association.Ó
The Good, the Bad and the Queen Ñ Òa narrative of moods,Ó as Albarn tells it Ñ is
framed like a nightÕs bill of moderately rocked-up vaudeville, albeit somewhat
charcoal-colored. Primarily built on a jam, ÒHistory SongÓ employs sparely
plucked acoustic guitar over skeletal yet polyrhythmic drums, bass and
organ to feel like something the Lee Perry of the late Õ60s might have
done. ItÕs an Afrobeat-tinged lullaby grappling with and finally settling
on a state of mind. The amusing Ò80Õs LifeÓ is a dreamy doo-wopper, with
sincere dip-dip-dip backing vocals, saved from sliding into Sha Na Na by
AlbarnÕs gruff attempts at high notes.
ÒKingdom of DoomÓ sticks in the
brain with quarter-note piano and stuttering reggaefied bass; on the
wistful ÒHerculean,Ó electric keyboards, musical saw and violins flesh out
AlbarnÕs steambox piano-pumping. The band is deliciously unrushed, playing
just this much and not a note more: The song lopes and skips lazily along,
sparking a low flame, a gently forceful reminder of our humanity. ÒBehind
the SunÓ is just plain cool Ñ an easy-skanking stroll down a sunset lane,
taking in the sights, with a small string section as company. Things are a
bit windswept and mysterious here, Õcause thatÕs just the way it is, and we
like it this way.
Following the heady halcyon days of Britpop blazers
Blur (who are in fact still extant), Albarn has slashed a far-reaching
course that most famously includes his artistic conception and songwriting
for Gorillaz; his 2002 solo album Mali Music, recorded with African musicians, including kora
player Toumani Diabate; and his own record label, Honest JonÕs, which seeks
out musical curios from all points non-Western. AlbarnÕs acutely aware of
the ugly heads that rear when European or American pop musicians attempt to
integrate music from other cultures into their own, and prefers never to
hear his label or new band associated with such a past-it term as Òworld
music.Ó
ÒSomeone from Ethiopia would
consider the Beatles world music,Ó he grumbles.
While Albarn seems to have strayed
quite far from his pop roots Ñ into African music, hip-hop, electro rock Ñ
the whys and wherefores donÕt concern him.
ÒIt was a part of the process for
me, really,Ó he says, a little impatiently. ÒIf I had taken on the motives
of it, it wouldÕve [laughs]Éyou
know what I mean? I just felt like I had much better stuff to do after
Blur.Ó
Yet AlbarnÕs vision of a
cross-culturally relevant sound for this new album required a special magic
that he found, lo and behold, virtually right next door in London:
SimononÕs dub-syncopated spatial simplicity was crucial for the songs heÕd
written.
ÒIt had a lot to do with the bass,Ó
says Albarn. ÒIt needed someone who was sort of intelligent in certain ways
Ñ you know, the balance between [drummer] Tony and Paul is key to this
record working.Ó
ÒI dunno,Ó says Simonon, Òit works
very well with Tony, because he plays some very complex patterns, and maybe
a bass player that took another approach might sound a bit too messy, or it
might become something else. I like to keep it quite simple, be a rhythm
player, like the way people dance at reggae concerts, or like the blues
bandsÕ approach to bass playing, where you donÕt tend to play every note
possible.Ó
ÒWhen Paul came in,Ó says Allen,
Òthen we said yes, okay, thatÕs what we wanted, because this album is so
delicate, you know? Delicate. It just needs some kind of simplicity.
Simplicity is not easy.Ó
The revered drummerÕs work Ñ perhaps
a surprise to those who know only the pumping multicyclical funk he brought
to Fela KutiÕs bands Ñ is an ideal fit for AlbarnÕs schoolboyish rock
reveries, and at its spiritual core not so far removed.
ÒI respect musicians who want to
play music,Ó says Allen. ÒAnd itÕs not everybody thatÕs a musician. I go
play with everybody. IÕm interested in what theyÕre bringing.Ó
Specific to London but reverberating worldwide, The
Good, the Bad and the Queen is an
example of the good things that can happen when four musical friends meet
to hang out and drink tea and shoot the breeze, then agree to make some
kind of piquant sound together that might paint a pleasing scene of life as
viewed from the top of their hill. No muss, no fuss, just music, deeply
felt and memorable.
ÒYeah, itÕs great, itÕs really
good,Ó says Simonon. ÒWeÕve got a really good team of people, and everyone
gets on well, and thereÕs no stressful maintenance with anybody flippinÕ
their lid or anything.Ó
That the faithful have flocked is
what Albarn finds best of all. ÒThatÕs the biggest success weÕve had with
this record. ItÕs showing some long-term commitment on everyoneÕs behalf,
to music, and to following music, and that can only be a good thing.Ó