Q&A: Gorillaz
Spin, May 2005
Although we frequently interview some cartoonish characters, it's not often we speak with actual cartoons. Electro-rock band Gorillaz, however, are some of the most well-drawn pop stars around. The scruffy foursome of Noodle, 2D, Russel, and Murdoc released Gorillaz in 2001, with help of Blur's Damon Albarn and Dan "the Automator" Nakamura, then disappeared underground. Apparently, a lot can happen to a two-dimensional band in four years, from jail time to developing an even more profound appreciation for Clint Eastwood. We grilled the band about their absence from the public eye and their new album, Demon Days.
Since your last record's release in 2001, Murdoc spent time in prison, right?
Russel: After we finishes the American tour, we moved to Los Angeles to shoot a Gorillaz movie, but it kinda fell apart. Murdoc left for Mexico, where he spent his time drinking tequila and sleeping in...er, brothels. But when the time came to pay up, he found himself a little light on the funds. So he forged checks.
Murdoc: Jail wasn't all bad. I got the seven deadly sins tattooed across my back. I'm working my way through them one by one. Gluttony, pride, and lust have been my favorites.
Actually, you all look a bit haggard now. Have you considered hiring a stylist?
Murdoc: There's no stylist in the world who could create an image like mine: tight jeans, some gnarly boots, razor-sharp hair, and a designer cape. It's killer! Kinda Victorian opium-eater meets East End thug.
You guys teamed up with a mouse for your next record. What can you tell us about this interspecies collaboration?
Murdoc: Are you off your rocker? Are you suggesting that one of us, like, walked into a pet shop and bought a mouse in order to get it to produce our new album?
Noodle: The producer of our new album is named DJ Danger Mouse. I was impressed with the work he had done on his Grey Album.
Murdoc: And Dennis Hopper read us a wonderful bedtime story called "Fire Coming Out of the Monkey's Head". Then we went down to New Orleans to ride our bikes up the middle of Mardi Gras, mashed out of our faces.
Do you fear the sophomore slump?
Noodle: On the second album many bands become aware of themselves, which can make them lose the naive immediacy that made them so appealing in the first place.
Murdoc: Interesting point, Noodle, but I don't think that should be an excuse for spotty, malodorous journalists to start picking holes in great albums -- sometimes sabotaging a potentially great career -- when the critic will inevitably make a revelatory return several years later, proclaiming that the album was a "forgotten classic".
The song "Clint Eastwood" was on Gorillaz, and now you have a track called "Dirty Harry" on Demon Days. What's your obsession with Clint?
Murdoc: I used to have this great picture of Clint on the inside of my toilet door. It was from A Fistful of Dollars, the classic shot of him with his poncho on, wincing. Some bright spark had drawn a speech bubble coming out of his mouth saying, "I don't like the smell of that, amigo!" Always made me smile when I was taking a dump.
Since your last record's release in 2001, Murdoc spent time in prison, right?
Russel: After we finishes the American tour, we moved to Los Angeles to shoot a Gorillaz movie, but it kinda fell apart. Murdoc left for Mexico, where he spent his time drinking tequila and sleeping in...er, brothels. But when the time came to pay up, he found himself a little light on the funds. So he forged checks.
Murdoc: Jail wasn't all bad. I got the seven deadly sins tattooed across my back. I'm working my way through them one by one. Gluttony, pride, and lust have been my favorites.
Actually, you all look a bit haggard now. Have you considered hiring a stylist?
Murdoc: There's no stylist in the world who could create an image like mine: tight jeans, some gnarly boots, razor-sharp hair, and a designer cape. It's killer! Kinda Victorian opium-eater meets East End thug.
You guys teamed up with a mouse for your next record. What can you tell us about this interspecies collaboration?
Murdoc: Are you off your rocker? Are you suggesting that one of us, like, walked into a pet shop and bought a mouse in order to get it to produce our new album?
Noodle: The producer of our new album is named DJ Danger Mouse. I was impressed with the work he had done on his Grey Album.
Murdoc: And Dennis Hopper read us a wonderful bedtime story called "Fire Coming Out of the Monkey's Head". Then we went down to New Orleans to ride our bikes up the middle of Mardi Gras, mashed out of our faces.
Do you fear the sophomore slump?
Noodle: On the second album many bands become aware of themselves, which can make them lose the naive immediacy that made them so appealing in the first place.
Murdoc: Interesting point, Noodle, but I don't think that should be an excuse for spotty, malodorous journalists to start picking holes in great albums -- sometimes sabotaging a potentially great career -- when the critic will inevitably make a revelatory return several years later, proclaiming that the album was a "forgotten classic".
The song "Clint Eastwood" was on Gorillaz, and now you have a track called "Dirty Harry" on Demon Days. What's your obsession with Clint?
Murdoc: I used to have this great picture of Clint on the inside of my toilet door. It was from A Fistful of Dollars, the classic shot of him with his poncho on, wincing. Some bright spark had drawn a speech bubble coming out of his mouth saying, "I don't like the smell of that, amigo!" Always made me smile when I was taking a dump.