As the lead singer (and pretty face) of Blur, Damon Albarn became a star writing songs about England – witty, melodious and stylistically omnivorous character studies like “Parklife” and “Country House”. which, along with the more blunt Oasis anthems, helped define the rowdy Britpop scene of the 1990s.
But Albarn’s latest solo album takes on a different place: Iceland, whose citizen he became a citizen of last year, decades after his first visit in 1997. Full of slow-motion ballads that place Albarn’s tender croon in the amid shimmering instrumental textures, “The Nearer the Mountain, More Pure the Stream Flows” began when he summoned a group of orchestral musicians to his home in Iceland in 2019 to “tune into the scenery” outside the window of his living room, as he said.
“Someone with a paperclip would focus on a cloud passing over the mountain,” he said. “Someone else would play the waves.” The outbreak of the COVID-19 pandemic forced the early termination of sessions. But Albarn – also known for other projects including numerous stage productions and the virtual band Gorillaz – then molded the group’s recordings into songs.
Now he’s bringing the album to the Walt Disney Concert Hall on Monday night for a one-off concert in which he’ll perform the songs (along with a few oldies) on piano accompanied by a string section. Over coffee last week on the roof of his hotel – it was his second time in Los Angeles in two months after a November trip he took as part of a Gorillaz-related project at Netflix – Albarn, 53, discussed his dual nationality, the impending 25th anniversary of Blur’s self-titled 1997 LP and the legacy of the band’s biggest US hit, “Song 2.”
How have you historically enjoyed LA?
This is actually my least favorite place in 30 years. But I realized that was because I had never really left West Hollywood. Then the last time I was here I worked in Malibu and Silver Lake – I learned to drive during the lockdown – and the city just opened up. I discovered that LA had another aspect: less self-aware, less feeding the beast. Less showbiz.
Your show at Disney is you at the piano. What game inspires you?
Thelonious Monk is my favorite. And I was very lucky to spend some time with Rubén González, just watching him play. It’s a very good thing to be able to do something that doesn’t require any amplification. But it’s actually quite hard to do a whole concert on the piano. It’s not difficult to play in a band.
Difficult because it’s so exposed?
You can’t hide behind anything. You learn if songs are good or if they were popular at the time because of sound and attitude. It’s a day of judgment – and a day, to be honest, that not much modern music could resist.
Think a lot of modern musicians rely on sound and attitude?
Name me someone who isn’t.
She may not be to your liking, but Taylor Swift is a great songwriter.
She doesn’t write her own songs.
Of course she does. Co-wrote some of them.
It doesn’t count. I know what co-writing is. Co-writing is very different from writing. I don’t hate anyone, I’m just saying there’s a big difference between a songwriter and a songwriter who co-writes. That’s not to say the result can’t be really awesome. And some of the greatest singers – I mean, Ella Fitzgerald never wrote a song in her life. When I sing, I have to close my eyes and be there. I guess I’m a traditionalist in that sense. A really interesting songwriter is Billie Eilish and her brother. I’m more attracted to that than to Taylor Swift. It’s just darker – less endlessly optimistic. Much more minor and weird. I think she is exceptional.
Tell a bit about your life in Iceland. Is it radically different from your life in England?
Not really. Icelandic culture and English culture have parallels. It’s much smaller there — there’s a much greater sense of equality and public responsibility. And it doesn’t have the kind of crazy colonial history, which never seems to fade. Nordic culture is in many ways preferable to me.
What brings you back to England when you return?
England is my home. As infuriating as that is and as stupid as the politicians are, I a m English.
What do you think of the hubbub of Boris Johnson’s confinement evenings?
He’s a serial liar. I don’t know how he keeps getting away with it. At the moment it’s like a double lie – first he lies about parties, then he lies about his achievements, ie Brexit, which I don’t think a rational person can find anything positive.
Have you ever thought back to when Tony Blair/Bill Clinton were cool politicians?
Even before he came to power, Tony Blair invited me to Westminster to have a sort of conversation about what young people wanted. I remember I was really hungover and walked into his office and had the overwhelming feeling that his spin-doctor, Alastair Campbell, was standing behind me, making faces.
Did you know that when you were playing?
Absolutely. Because then I was assigned a sort of political aide — an attaché, basically. I said things and then I got notes, “Oh, don’t say this.” I was like, “Did you just get completely engulfed in bulls-?” When he won, he threw a big party. I refused. But I continued to receive invitations to Downing Street suppers – handwritten letters from his wife.
“Blur” turns 25 next month.
I suppose so. I’m writing and recording a song about an incident when I was in Thailand and met the Crown Princess. It was November 1997. She was only 14 at the time, and she came to see us, and because of the very specific role the royal family plays in Thailand, they put a throne next to the mixer so she can sit down, surrounded by I don’t know how many soldiers. “Song 2” started and she rose to her throne and dove into the crowd. The reason I wrote a song about it is because I dreamed about this princess very recently. she had grown up and we had spent time together in my dream, her as a woman. So here it is: 1997 was a long time ago, but for the moment it is no longer the case.
Any plans to mark the album’s anniversary?
I don’t want to have anything to do with any of this. Re-editing stuff that has already had its moment takes up space that something new could come out of.
How does a future Blur reunion fit into this? You always seemed reluctant to go out and play the hits.
I don’t know how fond you become of the smell of your own farts. The biggest exponent of that is the Rolling Stones, who just couldn’t let go. It’s disappointing. That’s not to say that I absolutely disliked the Rolling Stones in their heyday – they were magnificent. But do other things in your life. Sing “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” when you push 80? Go on.
Have you seen Peter Jackson’s recent Beatles documentary?
I don’t watch 17 hours of Beatles rehearsal. Again, obviously, I love the Beatles. I’ve watched a few of them, and I get it — it’s interesting to see the little nuances. But that’s what I do all the time. A bit like a busman’s vacation.
How do you explain the continued obsession with the Beatles?
It’s because they haven’t done anything since 1971. Nothing bad has happened. Never made a bad record. I have never aged.
You have shown true appreciation for the Gorillaz elders. I was at the Demon Dayz festival in Los Angeles a few years ago when you released George Benson.
He was so brilliant that day. That’s the greatest thing about Gorillaz, when you can raise someone, an elder, and it feels really fresh in the moment. In a way, Gorillaz is at its best when we have these circuses that we take on the road from time to time – hopefully we’ll do one this year – and it’s just: who the f— is going to come on stage afterwards?
Gorillaz makes me wonder if you’ve ever considered writing songs for an animated children’s movie.
It’s a bit like Netflix. I promised myself that at some point I’m going to give up trying to be a pop star and do some really weird things, like a wake-up show, but in my weird left-handed way. That’s what I mean about the Stones: there’s so much to do to keep the creative genius alive, but the ego is so toxic in our society.
And in you?
I have trouble with that too. The idea that, Hey, I’m really famous and look at my numbers – it’s getting nowhere.
“Song 2” is what made you famous in this country.
This song is outrageous.
Is it an albatross or a gift that keeps on giving?
Not an albatross because I never play one. It’s a perfect example of something that’s more about attitude and production than actual songwriting.
So it’s unlikely we’ll hear it at Disney Hall.
Now that we’ve said that, I’ll see if I can give it a try. I could easily play the original version because it was more jazzy and much slower – the “woo-hoo” was more “woooooo-hoooooo”. I’ll try. I’ve failed so many times, one more doesn’t really matter.