„The Magic Whip“ is a document of a specific time and place, like „Heroes“ (Berlin), Exile on Main St. (the French Riviera), „The Pearl“ (Hamilton, Ontario), and Dusty in Memphis (take a guess). (Superior albums all, but nonetheless pretty good company.) Wolfram says. Possibly. And Uwe says. In a vein analogous with Damon Albarn’s 2014 excellent solo debut, Everyday Robots, Damon bemoans the physical and emotional isolation today’s increasingly digital world conduces in juxtaposition to the often hollow-feeling notion that we are closer and more connected to each other than ever before, Lajla says. You never walk alone saying this. „The Magic Whip“ is not just a return to form after a long silence, it’s pulsating with fresh ideas and revealing illusions of sameness and identity. Gregs says. So, please don’t start to celebrate the return of another magic ape! The matter is serious, Joey says, but a bit of dancing and bicycling isn’t x-rated. Take the thumping „Go Out“, where going out is nothing more than going „to the local, by myself“, otherwise spending one´s time „getting sad alone“ and „dancing with myself“. Michael says: „Das Fest ist aus.“ Ian says: only a few people will know Asmus Tietchen’s collage of all yesterday’s parties. Henning says what. The long echoes fading forever. Nostalgia is the wrongest movement possible, Frederik says. Stop making popular sense, please. Martina says. Albarn uses the capital city of notoriously hermetic and stilted North Korea as an allegory for the façade of camaraderie that technology such as social media uses to obscure our cracks and humanity on the dreamy and wistful „Pyongyang“. Ian says. Senses working overtime. Still crazy after all this years of being honest, stealing voices, chasing ghosts. Oh, the blurring shadow. Oh, der Verwischungsschatten.