1. The Good, the Bad & the Queen The Good, the Bad & the Queen In recent years, Damon Albarn has cut a David Byrne-like figure. With his own label that excavates worthy world-y musics, and his score to the 'circus opera' Monkey: Journey to the West (recalling Byrne's collaboration with Twyla Tharp), Blur's frontman has matured into one of those honourable elder types that plug away at mildly ambitious projects long after their pop moment has passed.
The news, then, that Albarn had formed a supergroup, the Good, the Bad & the Queen, was not especially pulse-quickening. The name was unenticing, as was the motley line-up: ex-Clash bassist Paul Simonon, Verve guitarist Simon Tong and Fela Kuti drummer Tony Allen. Yet when it arrived in January, the self-titled debut turned out to be - if you gave it time to let yourself sink into its diffuse melancholy - brilliant. As you would expect, there were echoes of the Kinks and the more fragile side of the Clash. But the sound was Britpop 'corrected': the insularity of that movement's version of musical Englishness opened wide to incorporate Allen's subtly unsettled Afro-beats and Simonon's reggae-inflected bass. Indeed like other good 2007 things - Burial and Pinch's dubstep, the Lady Sovereign album - this album's 'Waterloo Sunset'-in-dub sound showed how reggae has become part of every Briton's native pop birthright. With its London references this was 'the record Peter Ackroyd might have made', as Simonon put it. But London here stood for the entire country, that 'stroppy little island of mixed-up people'. Albarn's imagery of floodwater and derelicts evoked the malaise that grips the UK. Where Britpop celebrated the invincibility of youth, the mood here was... vincible. The contrast between then and now is dramatised by the shift from Albarn's demeanour circa Parklife (the chipper, fresh-faced, perky-spined lad of the video) to the slumped, stubbly, mumble-voiced character of today. The backdrop of Iraq was crucial to the album's despondent vibe, but just as key was the time of life Albarn has reached. This was adult music, made by and for people who have been battered a bit by life. (Simon Reynolds)
