By Robert Rossi, Assoc. Culture Editor -

Damon Albarn just might be the most underappreciated pop musician in the United States. Everyone who’s ever been to a sporting event and/or turned on a radio knows the guy’s music, but I’d bet my Blur album collection that if you ask the next four people you see to tell you why I’d start a review of a Gorillaz CD with his name, at least three wouldn’t know. Damon Albarn, for the uninformed, is the lead singer of the Britpop band Blur (of “Song 2” AKA “Woohoo!” fame) and the musical mastermind behind, you guessed it, Gorillaz.

Gorillaz is a collaboration between Albarn, comic book artist/designer Jamie Hewlett, and whatever guest musicians Albarn invites into the recording studio for each track. The band’s listed members are 2D (vocals and keyboard), Murdoc Niccals (bass), Russel Hobbs (drums), and Noodle (guitar and vocals), but really Albarn is doing all the work except for the drums, which are typically outsourced to a machine, and the countless guest appearances. The band has a long and intricate back story that can be found on their web site and is very entertaining for anyone looking for distractions from their English essay (www.Gorillaz.com), but none of it is really necessary for appreciating the music.

Plastic Beach is somewhat of a concept album about the environment, but you wouldn’t know it without having the lyrics printed in front of you or reading it somewhere else because Albarn’s lyrics are, for the most part, unintelligible. Ignorance of the subject matter of each song is often bliss, however, as most of these tracks are dance tunes that are so well structured that they can be enjoyed even without understanding whatever eco-message Albarn is trying to send.

The album starts off with an orchestral intro, followed by a “welcome to the plastic beach” from my personal favorite guest artist on the album, solely because his appearance is so unexpected. If you haven’t already looked at the track listing, don’t ruin the surprise. “White Flag” follows, and serves as the first full-fledged song on the album. It definitely sounds as though it belongs on the beach, melding a Mario Kart-ish beat with Jamaican-accented raps. The presence of the Lebanese National Orchestra for Oriental Arabic Music would therefore seem strange, but trust me, it’s not. That being said, the track is uninspired by Albarn’s standards.

Plastic Beach hits its stride with tracks four and five. Fans of “19-2000” and “DARE” will definitely love “Rhinestone Eyes”, a synth-driven love song that you need to dance to for your own well-being. The main synth line grabs your head and shakes it until the rest of your body follows suit. Props go to Albarn as well for the great imagery in the title. “Rhinestone Eyes” battles it out with the next song, “Stylo”, for best track on the album. What “Rhinestone” is to dancing, “Stylo” is to swagger. The bass line is violently direct and the synths are icy metallic cool. The vocals tattoo the word “overload” onto the brain, and if this is the last song you listen to before turning off your iPod, good luck getting it out of your head. Even though it isn’t included with purchase of the CD, the “Stylo” video, starring Bruce Willis, may be the best of 2010 so far.

The rest of the album can for the most part be divided into songs resembling “White Flag,” “Rhinestone Eyes,” or “Stylo.” Those in the vein of “White Flag”, while not necessarily as suited to a Nintendo game, are bouncy, energetic and cheery. The next two slated singles (“Stylo” being the first) both fall into this category. They are the less-than-spectacular “Superfast Jellyfish” and the ironically-smile-inducing “On Melancholy Hill.” “Empire Ants,” superior to both forthcoming singles, most nearly matches the danceability of “Rhinestone Eyes,” while still capturing some of the swagger of “Stylo.”

“Sweepstakes” deserves special mention. It features Mos Def flowing over a beat made up of beeps and bloops, only to be joined halfway through by the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble, completely altering the feel of the track and building to a satisfying, if somewhat bizarre climax. Next is the title track, the last great track on the album. “Plastic Beach” features Mick Jones and Paul Simonon of seminal British punk band The Clash (one of whom, Simonon, worked with Albarn on The Good, The Bad & The Queen). Don’t expect a foray into distorted guitars and fast drums, as “Plastic Beach” continues the dance grooves put forth on the first twelve tracks.

Sadly, Plastic Beach loses steam on the last three tracks. “To Binge” sounds like something that was left off Blur’s Parklife back in 1994, and “Cloud of Unknowing” is a bit of a snoozer; some may find it beautiful, I didn’t. “Pirate Jet” has the potential to be a great track, but it ends too soon, ending the album on a bit of an anticlimactic note. Regardless, the album as a whole still stands as a diverse, satisfying, and noteworthy disc. It is not Albarn’s finest (that would be either Parklife or Demon Days), but it still deserves to garner him the American attention that he probably won’t get. 8.0/10