Justine & Damon, when they were young and so deeply in love with each other.

我喜欢Justine，不论是她和Damon在一起时还是和Damon分手后，我一直都很喜欢她。

那天在网上搜到一张她两年前结婚时的照片，照片里的她身穿一袭白色婚纱，手捧鲜花笑得好开心，于是我也为她觉得好开心。

虽然她和Damon不能给予彼此最终的幸福，但他们俩曾经真真切切地互相深爱和互相伤害过，在他们的生命里都深深留下了对方的印记。这就够了。

重要的是他们现在各自都拥有幸福的家庭，都过得很快乐——这就够了。

More than enough, really~

Awwwwww, just look at him! What a cute baby!!
虽然从很多照片里可能看不出来，不过和Damon一样，Jamie也有一双蓝绿色的眼睛~
瞧那小鼻头，还有抿嘴笑时的薄薄嘴角，都跟现在分毫不差，萌啊vvvv


少年Jamie正手执画笔在画壁画——膜拜啊！！
纤细、苍白、敏感、叛逆、执着。这时的Jamie就已经浑身上下都充满了艺术家气质了


What are you thinking about, Jamie? You look so pensive...
虽然Jamie是个非常有幽默感、非常能闹腾的人，但每次看到他流露出或焦虑或忧郁或莫可奈何的表情时，还是会让我不由自主地为他小小担心。不过对我来说，他的洁癖、他的神经质、他的强迫性焦虑症也是构成他性格魅力的必要组成部分之一XDD

Love you dearly, Jamie~ vvvv

So much respect, and LOVE, for this incredibly talented man!

From ZANELOWE.COM
http://www.zanelowe.com/video/88028940001/

Cutest conversation EVER.

Jamie: They're good investment, those letters.
Zane: Yeah, they really are. They look great. I want them in my bathroom.
Jamie: (laugh) You want to get ZANE in your bathroom.

Zane: Honey, can you make them magenta for me?
Jamie: Hahaha...
Zane: Can you make them dark blue?
Jamie: I'm not happy with the turquoise! (laugh)

From RockFeedBack.com
http://www.rockfeedback.com/feature/36/gorillaz-paris-france-summer-2001/

Gorillaz - Paris, France, Summer 2001
(Maryse Laloux)

Today, an event is happening in Paris, France. The warmth of the summer may be flooding the city, but so is the music of a particularly funky 'group', who are playing a show this evening at the 1,400-capacity La Cigale venue. The object of this interview - taken prior to show-time - was to see just where this enigmatic band's creators were coming from - and much was certainly revealed.

Last year, a bass-driven, beats-thumpin' and unusual EP was released, under the title of 'Tomorrow Comes Today'. Aside from bearing one of the best and haunting singles of 2000 - the title track - this release also provided other tunes of worthy note, including a collaboration with legendary Cuban artist, Ibrahim Ferrer, in the sublime and stunning 'Latin Simone'. In addition to this, there was a hot inclusion of the phat-voiced rapper Del Tha Funkee Homosapien within 'Rock The House', a trumpet-fuelled, piano and sample-ridden hip-hop piece which helped to make this debut by the Dan The Automator-produced group, Gorillaz, an essential part of anyone's record collection.

However, as good as this sounds, there was more to the project and this was only discovered when those that purchased the single on compact disc format pushed it into the D-drive of their computer. It proved that the Gorillaz weren't just any normal band - they were cartoon characters. Containing profiles of each of the four members - lead-singer 2-D, guitarist Noodle, drummer Russel and bassist Murdoc - there was something about their facial expressions and stories, which just didn't sound right... There was a slightly haunting and chilling element to this cartoon-outfit's so-called 'natures', something that was just a bit too unhealthy. But - then you reassure yourself - they're only pictures and nothing more... And that was that.

It was actually Damon Albarn, frontman of Blur, and his former flatmate, Jamie Hewlett - the originator of cult comic book, 'Tank Girl' - who came up with the concept.

'I got introduced to Jamie via Graham (Coxon, Blur guitarist),' Damon explains. 'When we discovered that we actually really got on, we also discovered that we had got so much in common. So, the way this whole thing works is that he does his thing and I do my thing - and it works, because we're in a band. I've known Jamie for almost as long as I've known (the rest of Blur), although it's only in the last three years that we've spent any time together.'

'I knew that lot because I'd had friends or girlfriends that knew them, so I've always been somewhere where they've been,' reveals Jamie. 'We (Damon and I) ended up being mates through a very bizarre twist of fate, didn't we (poses to Damon, who agrees) and moved in together - and had a good laugh. That's how Gorillaz came about really - comic-artist, musician: what can we do, in a time where anything is possible?'

Last year, it was claimed that Albarn was making a solo album instead of working on this group...

Jamie butts in, looking at Damon, 'That's when you couldn't talk about Gorillaz yet and you were bullshitting, basically!'

So the alleged solo album you were working on at the time was Gorillaz, right?

'Yeah, I suppose so,' Damon grins. 'Kind of can't really get out of that one!' He then tries to feebly backtrack on what he originally said. 'Did I say I was doing a solo album?!'

'You did a very good job at keeping quiet about everything for a very long time,' credits Jamie. 

For the next four or five months following 'Tomorrow Comes Today', though, next to nothing was said on the group, with the mundane and uninspired of alternative music stealing the limelight as usual. But - in what must have been the most impressive of returns, Gorillaz came back - with details of a full-length eponymous album and a new single: the reggae-rap fusion of 'Clint Eastwood', whose chorus and string-soundalike synths provided the catchiest hook in a single this year. It was fresh, new and different - much like the original record that they produced.

Needless to say, it became a huge hit in the UK, its colossal impact on the charts spreading overseas to territories all over Europe. In fact, such was the originality and radio-friendly appeal of the tune that it even caused a stir in the US - something that Albarn had always wanted to achieve with his first band, Blur, who never quite achieved such a buzz.

Now - with the album well and truly cemented as a best-seller all over the globe and a perplexing live show arranged, where a collection of musicians gather behind a large screen and perform the Gorillaz material whilst cartoon-graphics are projected on to its surface - the mysterious act are destined to become one of the biggest bands the world has ever seen... Even, though, well, they're not really a band.

Such success, however - how do you account for it?

'Well, it's new (the concept), isn't it,' Albarn contributes. 'I think that people who like pop music (will like it). There are two kinds of pop music fans: there's the fan that just goes with the majority and soaks up all the shit that they're given on TV and in magazines, and then there's the discerning pop fan, who still likes the whole idea of pop culture, but wants something more from it - and hopefully we're appealing to them.'

Damon, you've spent time at stage-school so isn't this all just a role-play?

'I suppose you can look at it like that; I don't see it as that. When I fall in love with music or a band or anything, I want to go further with that... and express my love for it from my own music.'

Yeah, but - as you're the actual singer for this group - and 2-D represents the singer, isn't he representative of you playing a fictitious character?

'Well, no, he does it all himself, 2-D! I don't do anything! I just made the record! It doesn't really matter who makes the records - that's the whole point; I like the mystery...'

'Yeah, none of the band members are based on anybody alive behind the scenes,' says Jamie, backing up his friend's reply. 'They are themselves. Everyone seems to think Damon is 2-D, but he's not... 2-D's stupid and Damon's hugely intelligent; the only thing they've got in common is that they're both pretty!'

One striking part of the 'Gorillaz' LP is how diverse its sounds are. The vocals are distinctly Albarn, as is the melodica-usage, the knack at melody and general song writing, but there are definitely new influences on the recording; would Damon's partner, Suzi - who is of African descent - have affected the music he listened to and wanted to make?

Not wasting time, the baseball cap-sporting musician replies, 'Oh, massively! When I first met her, she had spent a lot of time outside of England - in the 90s, she had been in Africa, South America and Nepal, all over the place - and she didn't even know what Blur was, or who I was. She was into Latin music and hip-hop and that's it really.

'I suppose I'd been into that sort of stuff, but - when you live with someone - that (her music-taste) was something that really attracted me as a musician, who's constantly looking for new things. She had such a different outlook on life and I really sort of liked it; I found it very refreshing. I just got more and more into it, I suppose and - in a way - making the Gorillaz album was a way of expressing my love for her.'

One beneficial aspect about having a music collective consisting of cartoons is that you can afford to be a bit more interactive with fans - such as working with the Internet in new ways - and the official website of this consortium is certainly something special to get truly ensconced within. There are hidden rooms to walk around, games to play and - along with all this - you can watch videos of the group, hear tracks, and speak to fans in the community... It's a really splendid way of doing things.

'The website is built in his (Jamie's) studio, which is next to my studio,' states Damon.

Adding to the topic, Jamie tells, 'Everyday, I stand behind my little row of computer technicians and I say (puts on large, commanding voice for comic effect), 'I want this,' and they go (puts on small, weak voice for further humour), 'OK,' and they do it basically!

'We wanted to create an environment where the fans of Gorillaz could, instead of reading lots of text and looking at the odd photo, actually feel as though they were there with them (the band)... Which they are essentially... We're building it everyday and interacting with the kids everyday.'

How many people are working on it?

'Four people - and whoever else wants to put their ideas in. It's a full time job - every single day we have to live the lives of the characters and update everything that happens on it really - it's very hard work.'

'Yeah... I mean, that's the thing,' Damon notes. 'There's so much possible these days and there aren't that many people using the technology; not many people using the Internet in the way they could be using it, and making a culture out of it, where people can go and feel very much involved in it. I think - from my point of view - what I wanted to do was something where it could be very interactive with the audience, but - at the same time - I could keep my distance... I didn't really want to have my personality in there, you know? I wanted to concentrate on making music - good music.

'I would have kept my involvement completely quiet if it hadn't been for the fact that everyone seemed to know it was my voice, which I suppose is fair enough!'

'People keep telling us to do this (promotion),' comments Jamie, with a huff in his chest. 'We just want to go to bed forever!'

Damon prefers to play around with a response. 'We'd rather that the characters did all the interviews, but it's really difficult sometimes, because it's difficult to get them all... They're here, they're downstairs, but I don't know where they are!'

Obviously, Damon supplies the musical roots to the organisation, whilst Hewlett lends his artistic ability - but is there anything else that Jamie can do?

'I have many talents,' guffaws Jamie, trying to maintain a touch of mystique.

Can you reveal any of these 'talents' to us then?

'No - I don't want to go into it (laughs)!'

OK - enough of the cryptic messages; are you musically inclined?

'I don't play any instruments - I've never been interested by them; I've never been interested in being a pop star or anything like that...'

Damon can't resist commenting, blurting out, 'You lying c**t!'

'What - I've never wanted to be in a pop band,' says the cartoonist, attempting to salvage himself.

Damon fights back, 'What about the photos of you in 'Q' (UK magazine)?! I think that's slightly not the truth...'

Retaliating with venom, Hewlett utters, 'Damon has a habit of always telling lies!'

Is that what you need to be in Gorillaz - to tell lies?

'If we just explained how it was, it wouldn't be very interesting,' reasons Jamie, demonstrates the boring kind of answers they'd give if they didn't liven up answers in interviews and introduces a monotone voice. 'It'd just be like, 'We had an idea... We did it...'

One comment that was made regarding yourselves in an interview was a plan you had to 'subvert from within' - that is to say, you want to go against all that you establish for yourselves in a true pursuit of trying out things differently. However, by becoming the main stars in a recent teen-pop magazine, 'Smash Hits', is this part of your plan - or merely the Gorillaz selling out?

Damon sarcastically responds, acknowledging that appearing in the publication could see them deemed as uncool. 'A sell-out? Not at all...'

Jamie tries to justify his involvement with the magazine. 'I did that because he (Damon) told me it was a good thing to do...'

Explaining the strategy behind choosing to be a main feature, Damon reveals, 'We've been on three covers that we wanted to be on in England - and that's been 'Dazed & Confused', 'NME' and 'Smash Hits' and - as far as I'm concerned - that's it, really... We don't need to be on the cover of any other magazine.'

'That covers just about everyone,' outlines Jamie, in terms of how appearing in those three issues introduced the band to three very different types of readers and music-consumers.

'That's what magazines are for - getting ideas across,' Damon simplifies. 'Compared to everything else that's in 'Smash Hits', it's really anarchic (making Gorillaz the cover stars)...'

'Yeah, but we trashed the whole issue,' laughs Jamie. 'Murdoc (the evil, cheeky member of Gorillaz) does the editorial and slags the whole magazine off, and says it's a load of crap! Then, we review all the singles and slag off everything!'

Damon diplomatically adds swiftly, 'Whether people believe that we think that or not is irrelevant...'

So, Damon - it was subverting from within, then? You went on 'Smash Hits' to prove that there's more to Gorillaz' appeal than to just the alternative crowd?

'Well, there was a degree of that; I've always kind of been interested in that...'

Jamie looks at it from a different angle. 'If you become subversive, that's when you're limiting yourself to what magazines you're appearing in; you've got to get to everybody, haven't you?'

Damon summarises what they're trying to do. 'How can you change the mainstream unless you get involved with it and embrace it? That's what we're trying to do really; if you want to get the serious side of what we're doing, that is it...'

But what are the group's limits?

Albarn jokes, 'Well, if they turn to the side, then they disappear - that's the basic limitation of being two-dimensional! We've told them time and time again, 'Just face the audience - don't turn to the side!''

Speaking of the live performance in front of an audience, any chance of taking down that screen one day so we can see who make up the Gorillaz sound?

'Never,' splutters a disgusted Damon.

'That defeats the object,' Jamie follows. 'If (anyone) wants to try and pull it down, I'm sure somebody will wrestle (them) to the ground (laughs)!'

'You don't know what kind of musicians are playing - and I think that's great,' reckons Damon. 'It's the opposite of what everybody else is doing, which is like, 'Come on - look at me;' this is like, 'Don't look at me!'

Jamie further emphasises, 'The idea behind Gorillaz is there is no room for celebrities, there's no room for egos and there's no room for...'

Interrupting Hewlett's response and attempting to contradict it, Albarn puts on a mockney egotistical voice and calls out, 'Oh, excuse me, I need my massage now!'

Ignoring the jape, Jamie carries on, 'Yeah - it's has been an especially important lesson for Damon especially,' insinuating that Mr Albarn is arrogant. 'Being behind something and not taking the credit for it is something very good for the brain, I think...

'There's an inevitable bird-trap about being a human-being who receives a lot of praise and a lot of glory and for being famous, because - eventually - you end up screwing up everything because you can't take it. The good thing about this is that nobody's taking all the glory for it, except these four characters, so we can carry on and it won't get in the way of us being creative.'

But let's move on to the future; the States have been getting excited by the group now, so any chance for more promotion or live shows there?

'Yeah, I've just come back from there doing lots of interviews,' unveils Damon. 'It's going well, I think. We'll be over there soon... Yep - we will definitely be going over to America; I don't think there's any question about it.' Damon quickly realises that it sounds as if the Gorillaz characters don't exist, so he exclaims, 'Or should I say they are going over to America?!'

What about those rumours about a Gorillaz film too..?

'We fully intend the next thing that we do with this is a film with an album, which is also a soundtrack,' clarifies Damon.

'We're not just gonna make a film for the sake of it,' mentions Jamie. 'It's gonna be the next album, basically, so we can do it (the whole process of releasing a record) differently. We've done it like this, so the next album we're doing will be put out differently...'

Damon, would you still want Liam Gallagher (former arch-rival from Oasis) to guest on the record?

'Yeah - I'd like to write him a really good pop song.'

In a deadpan delivery, Hewlett jokes, 'We're also going to get Frank Sinatra through Russel (member of the group that can bring up the spirits of dead people to sing through him); that'd be good!'

However - before the new music, how about 2001's platter of delights: what have you been listening to?

'I've been listening to a lot of hip-hop actually,' replies Damon. 'A bit of Usher, Nelly - I like the Nelly album a lot - I think that's really cool. I like little bits of the Eve records...

'What annoys me with hip-hop, though, is its tendency to get Dr Dre, if you can afford him, to do one or two tracks and then the rest of it is real shit! Dr Dre's a genius - he's a fantastic producer; I love his backing-tracks.'

'I've been listening to a lot of Gang Starr,' Jamie comments, shortly before Damon agrees with him on the rap group's significance.

It's little surprise that these two people listen to such a sound; no doubt, in a few weeks, they'll be hearing material of a completely different variety - and that's why Gorillaz can only get better, because it's their open-minded opinion on music which keeps what they're doing exciting.

However, it can't be just that. It's clear - even from just reading this article - that Damon and Jamie are good mates, both blessed with a similar intelligence as to interact with each other on a highly intellectual level, as well as a sense of humour which keeps things sweet between them.

'We were actually discussing the possibility for a curfew in our friendship and (introduce it) in six month's time, because we're having too much fun! We're going to have to put a stop to it,' raises a smiling Hewlett.

Let's hope this isn't the case, because never before has a friendship between two people made such a beguilingly bizarre and beautiful sound - or set of cartoon characters. Even though they'll try and have you believe their genius is down to the imaginary 2-D, Noodle, Russel and Murdoc that they invented, just remember the truth of who's behind it all...

From TIMES ONLINE
http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/music/article7120289.ece


"I say! They’re fancy!” exclaims Jamie Hewlett when Damon Albarn strides into the pair’s West London headquarters. The object of his fascination? Albarn, his sidekick in Gorillaz, is breaking in a new pair of shiny brogues, just like the ones favoured by Mr Noisy from the Mr Men series. Far from noisy, however, Albarn is a slightly subdued version of his normal combative self. It’s the morning after the election. With his long-term partner Suzi away, Albarn never made it to bed. He spent the entire night on the sofa, glued to the emerging chaos until it was time to take his daughter Missy to school.

“These,” he explains, “are my hung Parliament shoes.” Asked about the result — or, rather, the lack of one — the 41-year-old is a picture of careworn ambivalence. “How do I feel about a hung Parliament? I wanted it.” Did he vote? “Yes, but I’m not going to tell you who.” Even though “there’s no way on Earth” he would vote Tory, most of his irritability over the election is focused on Gordon Brown. “He should have stayed f***ing Chancellor,” says Albarn, as he waits for the kettle to boil. “He should have never had that stupid ambition [to be Prime Minister]. His strength is doing the maths. He would have achieved far more by staying out of the limelight.”

That Albarn feels qualified to comment on people’s suitability to the limelight tells you a lot about where the “virtual” group he formed with Hewlett find themselves right now. Gorillaz were, of course, the band that the two created precisely because a fame-weary Albarn no longer wanted us to look at him — the Trojan horse that carried the singer out of Blur, seemingly never to return. Billed as a “a lo-fi thriller event with 2-D, Murdoc, Noodle and Russell”, Gorillaz’ debut live show in 2001 had the musicians silhouetted behind screens. The one who sang the stoned, dubby hip-hop of future hit Clint Eastwood sounded awfully like the singer out of Blur, but when asked about his involvement with Gorillaz, Albarn coyly kept his counsel.

These days Gorillaz offer a solution to a problem that no longer exists. If the Glastonbury triumph of 2009 with a briefly reunited Blur reminded Albarn how much he had missed performing, last month’s Gorillaz shows at the Roundhouse — no façades, no silhouettes — marked the singer going full circle. In between a stellar array of vocalists such as Bobby Womack, Mos Def and De La Soul, Albarn chipped in with the air of a child who had found a way to make the toys in his playroom come to life. With a band that also had the Clash’s Paul Simonon and Mick Jones together for the first time in two decades, it wasn’t hard to fathom the reasons. Why have a cartoon band when you could have a real one of this calibre?

Hence, the last thing that Hewlett, also 41, did before going home yesterday was to finish work on a poster for the group’s forthcoming tour, which depicts the group’s real-life members alongside their reprobate alter egos. But if the real musicians who played on the group’s recent third album Plastic Beach are reclaiming Gorillaz, where does that leave Hewlett’s animated creations? The sometime creator of Tank Girl seems unperturbed by the question. Apart from there being videos to work on and web content to oversee — all of it keeping Murdoc, 2-D et al, very much alive — Hewlett points out that “all my favourite bands are really just a function of the friendships within them”.

In that respect, Gorillaz are no different. Albarn and Hewlett happened upon each other at a time when both had separated from long-term partners. When the time came for Albarn to move out of the flat he had shared with Elastica’s Justine Frischmann, it was Hewlett he called to help him to go househunting. “I wasn’t really doing much at that point. Tank Girl had been made into a shit film, but no one was offering me work because they thought I was now too busy to do it. Damon asked me if I could come and give a second opinion on a flat he was thinking of getting, so I came along. I told him it was great and that he should get it. Then he went . . .” — Hewlett mimics Albarn’s faintly surly version of friendliness — “. . . ‘Do you want to live here?’.”

Success has a way of normalising the most improbable ideas. We refer to Albarn and Hewlett’s “virtual band” as if such things have always existed. But at Gorillaz’ outset, there was no existing template for what Hewlett and Albarn were trying to achieve. A decade may have elapsed, but the initial scepticism that greeted the duo’s brainchild — especially from his American label — still rankles. “They said it’d be lucky if the first album sold 25,000. It was just all negativity, ‘There isn’t a band; we don’t know who it is; it’s a cult thing . . .’ Just on and on.”

After all this time, you’d think that it would get easier, so it’s surprising to hear that, even in the wake of Demon Days and the pair’s acclaimed opera Monkey Goes to the West, new ideas have had to be jettisoned when the necessary funding has failed to materialise. One such project, Carousel, was due to comprise a series of interlinked films set to live music. “The story was going to play out alongside this 100-mile long Victorian pier,” explains Hewlett.

Albarn interjects: “The pier was basically birth, childhood, adulthood and so on until, at the very end, you had this carousel with creatures on it, and the carousel was the flashback of your entire life. We’d got pretty far along with that.” While Carousel ground to a halt, real life gathered apace. Albarn and Hewlett took their families on holiday to Devon, where the eureka moment happened that spawned Plastic Beach.

“There were these worn-down bits of plastic in the shingle. Setting aside the effect of them being there, they looked quite beautiful. When I came back I said, ‘Why don’t we do an album?’. When he said he wanted to call it Plastic Beach,” says Hewlett, “it was instant. Those two words opened the door. We googled it. Point Nemo is the farthest point from any land mass on the planet — and there, you’ll find islands, some as big as the British isles, made of plastic densely stuck together. So then, it all became about this place that you can escape to, both a symptom of the problem and a sanctuary from it.” Faced with making a genre-trouncing fin de siècle party album such as Plastic Beach, a traditional band — like the one for which Albarn is still (just about) better known — would have been constrained by its personnel. Seven million sales of Demon Days meant that, when Albarn assembled his wish list of guest musicians, he found that he had minimal explaining to do. Even if Barry Gibb did have to pull out with an ear infection, Lou Reed, Snoop Dogg and Bobby Womack were among those who stepped up. The famously crotchety Reed, says Albarn, was “very Lou Reed-ish” when he came to record his part. “Nice to me, though not necessarily to everyone else.”

Not so Womack. Speaking from his Los Angeles home, the 66-year-old soul legend, who numbers Sam Cooke and Ray Charles among a lifetime of collaborators, was long retired when Albarn sent him a demo of the song that became Stylo. “My daughter is 23. She loves me, but she’s never reacted to what I do the way she reacted to that track.” Sweetly, he seems intent on referring to the group in the singular: “Here I am thinking that I’m hip and I’m saying, ‘I ain’t never heard of Gorilla!’. I spoke to them on the phone, and they were like, ‘C’mon! We heard of you, though!’.”

“The sessions with Bobby were like nothing I’ve ever experienced,” says Albarn. “I played him the track and told him to just improvise. After 45 minutes of amazing singing he passed out. I can’t tell you how worrying it is to see Bobby Womack lose consciousness on your watch. It turned out that he’s a diabetic.”

Albarn wasn’t the only worried one. While he got an energy-restoring banana, the semi-conscious Womack was convinced that he had blown his chance to become part of Gorillaz. Far from it. “I remember eating a banana and when I woke up I was a Gorilla!”

What could it be about a Gorillaz show, you wonder, that can inspire such a disparate range of artists to put their careers on hold and cross oceans for what amounts to no more than ten minutes on stage? Longtime Gorillaz collaborator and De La Soul cohort Posdnuos explains why, come the group's newly announced maiden UK tour, this September, he and the glittering cast of Plastic Beach will be doing just that. “It’s what we take from it as well as what we give. The dressing rooms are always open. At the Roundhouse, we were swapping stories — Bobby Womack with Mos Def; ourselves with Little Dragon — and right there, from the soundcheck, you had Damon making sure everyone was happy. It’s the reason you always dreamed of running off to join the circus.”

Albarn is tickled by the analogy. “Well, that’s exactly what you hope everyone will get out of it. We put more into a single Gorillaz show than most bands do playing a lifetime of shows while making ten times as much in the process. But it’s not about balancing the books. I’ve no interest in that. It’s about making you feel like you’re watching the greatest show on earth.” Finally, the subtext of his election tirade makes itself explicit. Damon Albarn doesn’t have very much in common with Gordon Brown. Lousy at sums, but a natural in the limelight, Gorillaz’ ringmaster has finally accepted who he is.