my collectible of the month is Everyday Robots, the debut solo album by British musician and producer Damon Albarn. released on this day (4/25) in 2014, today isn’t necessarily a milestone anniversary. however, this review sets the stage for the album i’ll be writing about next month. Everyday Robots appears twice in my personal collection, on both CD and vinyl. ahead of sharing this revisit, i played the album on those two formats as well as streaming.
Damon Albarn is best known as the frontman of Blur and the co-founder of the animated band Gorillaz. on his major solo release, we witness the oft-reported cheekiness of the former in conjunction with the melancholic existentialism of the latter. over time, it’s increasingly apparent how Albarn’s worldview permeates his creative output. with such introspective lyrics, he pens enough of a direct narrative to thoughtfully engage with and still offers listeners some room to read between the lines.
before we really dive into my review of Everyday Robots, let’s properly assess the album’s place within Albarn’s overall discography. when Everyday Robots dropped, it had been four years since the third Gorillaz album, Plastic Beach, and two years since his supergroup Rocket Juice & The Moon (comprised of Albarn, Tony Allen, and Flea) released their self-titled album. fans of Blur were also a year away from the band re-emerging with The Magic Whip, their first studio album in over a decade.
Everyday Robots is co-produced by Albarn and Richard Russell of XL Recordings fame.1 by the time this album debuted in his mid-40s, Albarn had already played a wide range of genres and worn many musical hats; dedicated fans of Gorillaz understand that the band defies neat categorization. all of the musical identities he’s previously inhabited make an appearance on this album, yet Everyday Robots finds Albarn in a slightly different dimension: mature, reflective, pensive, and even stoic at times. on its surface, the title track “Everyday Robots” seems to be a critique of our society’s heavy reliance and dependency on mobile technology.
“We are everyday robots on our phones, in the process of getting home (autonomous)”
if you sit with the song for a longer duration, it is more about the isolation that can come from that technological dependency. everyone is in their own worlds, wrapped up in whatever device gives them their daily dopamine fix. loneliness trends across this album, becoming a companion you must engage with to stay the course of the 47-minute runtime. furthermore, the soulful themes that surface on Everyday Robots are just as relevant today as they were in 2014, as relevant as they were on the preceding Gorillaz albums.
you also engage visually with solitude by viewing the album’s cover: Albarn sits on a stool, looking down sullenly with argyle socks peeking out from his rolled-up trousers. he’s not placed in the center of the album cover, but rather on the right side. from this perspective, he has established his roles as the observer and narrator for the sonic journey that listeners will embark on.
so how did i obtain this music? around the time this album came out, i had maintained a persistent interest in Gorillaz. admittedly, i’m not as familiar with Blur’s discography. Gorillaz, on the other hand, got me through high school and college. i’ve bonded with friends over how important we found this music to be. so when i learned that Albarn was releasing a solo album, i was intrigued, as i’d already identified him as a music producer i really enjoyed.
upon the album’s release, i purchased the vinyl record for myself, as i’d been fond of the singles. not too long after, i picked the CD out of a bin at my college’s radio station. it has a hole punched through the back CD insert, signifying that it’s not for sale. visual identifiers like this always remind me of how certain albums came into my life. similarly, the album’s booklet provides tangible reminders of the music-making process, with rough drafts of lyrics surrounded by colored ink and doodles.
the first three songs on Everyday Robots comprehensively build to a solid opening. i mean, having the title track as the first song is a statement in and of itself. i typically feel the onset of how these three songs will affect me before i hit play. maybe it was my luteal phase, but revisiting “Hostiles” recently stirred up so much emotion within me. i stood in my kitchen, lightly tapping my heart and swaying as i was overcome with feelings. in that moment, i remembered various train rides and walks where i looped this song on repeat.
“It'll be a silent day
I'll share with you
Fighting off the hostiles
With whom we collude
Hoping to find the key
To this play of communications
Between you and me”
there was also one recent night where i awoke with “Lonely Press Play” playing in my head. you know that nearly lucid state where you’re straddling between two realms? i thought it was just in my dreams, but the video was actually playing on the TV. i had fallen asleep on the couch yet again, and the mix my fiancé played from my YouTube channel was reminding me to welcome this album back into my life.
“Arrhythmia
Accepting that you live with uncertainty
If you're lonely, press play
Dilated time
The aspects that you pass on while traveling
When you're lonely, press play”
it’s safe to say that it’s been brought back into the rotation with the three subsequent listens i did to write this piece. here are some other standout moments from my revisit of this album:
the digital listen gave me a renewed interest in “The Selfish Giant.” it wasn’t that i didn’t like it before, but the songs surrounding it just stood out a little more.
while researching for this piece, i was reminded of the feature on “The Selfish Giant”: Natasha Khan of Bat for Lashes.
“You and Me” — the switch-up at 4:18 gets better and better with time.
the second half of the album is more heartbreaking than the first.
featuring Brian Eno and The Leytonstone City Mission Choir, “Heavy Seas of Love” is a buoyant closer.2
although each listening format brought a different dynamic to my playback experience, i think Everyday Robots is somber and intimate in a way that warrants listening with headphones. is this my favorite album? no. is it the most perfect and cohesive album i’ve ever heard? also, no. as fun as the track “Mr. Tembo” is, i’ve always felt that it was slightly out of place (at least tempo-wise). years forward, i understand how the song is thematically on-brand, so i view it like a commercial break meant to simultaneously hold and disrupt the listener’s attention. still, i would say the album is underrated.
as i teased in the beginning, this review precedes my look at Demon Days for its 20th (!!) anniversary next month. now, that’s an album to know if you really want to know me. Albarn also recently announced a new Gorillaz album for 2025, so i wonder which prominent features will emerge or re-emerge this go-round. only time will tell. if you need a good cry, Everyday Robots might be the album to spin this weekend.
Russell is now releasing his own music as Everything is Recorded, which i’ve shared on the newsletter before.
The Heavy Seas is also the name of Albarn’s live band.
I ran here so fast!!
You mentioned the digital version was better for headphones because it felt intimate. I assume you listened to the vinyl aloud? Did you notice anything different in either your experience or sounds you heard?