Gorillaz Dublin

Go with me for a minute here; is Damon Albarn David Bowie's true musical heir? Marvel at how he jumps, as Bowie did in his pomp, from genre to genre, ...

When it's done, Albarn calls us a perfect crowd and reckons he doesn't give a fuck what the reviewers say as long as they give the audience a 10/10. Albarns at the piano in a pair of chunky, heart-shaped goggles which must be a tribute to Sir Reg. The chorus of 'Momentary Bliss' - driven by Slowthai and Slaves on the screen - is absolutely furious, the 3Arena a maelstrom of shouts and swinging arms, like some class of extremist rally, with true believers speaking in tongues. There was something of the hellfire preacher about Damon as he ranted over that guitar riff, then the "Push It" section rose up, the main man had us all doing the "ooh, OOHs" and then it went somewhere else entirely. The Chic-like guitar and Thundercat's bass contribution - the bass suffers a few times throughout - are hard to make out but the backing vocals save it as a demon-eyed Albarn drives the dancing floor on. He tells us how they played that song in Helsinki a few nights ago and a beautiful super moon rose behind the audience. He keeps all these plates in the air, playing acoustic guitar for 'On Melancholy Hill' and sneaking a Blur-like chorus in behind the big beat of 'El Mañana' as the Windmills crash behind him. He does get a brief respite as an on-screen Popcaan takes over for parts of 'Saturnz Barz' - I'll never get fully onside with autotuned vocals - before deciding to refer to us all as "Dublin" and declaring himself well-chuffed with an amazing reaction for a Wednesday. Now Smith's in a Clarke/Kubrick monolith and the message "Be The Change" is writ large on the moon's surface. Talking of rock lords, he's down at the barrier for 'Tranz', simulating the dopamine and fluffing the audience into further ecstasy by wrapping himself, young Bono style, in a tricolour, as the real band play in front of the virtual one, transforming the recording on 2018's The Now Now into something far more irresistible. The original idea of a virtual band, which came to Albarn and artist/Tank Girl creator/flatmate Jamie Hewlett as they were having their brains melted by MTV, was a brilliant concept and translated wonderfully to video, driven by Hewlett's world-building art, saying something about how society was fractured by the same technological advances that were making it smaller. Marvel at how he jumps, as Bowie did in his pomp, from genre to genre, grasps the kernel of each one, and then combines it with his own Damonness to craft great records.