Damon Albarn - The Nearer The Fountain, More Pure The Stream Flows (LP)

Damon Albarn’s second solo record, The Nearer The Fountain, More Pure The Stream Flows, arrived on 12 November 2021 via Transgressive Records, and it feels like the kind of album you sit with rather than skim. The title lifts a line from the 19th‑century poet John Clare, and the music matches that image: water drawing closer to its source, clearing as it goes. Albarn first envisioned the project as an orchestral work inspired by the landscapes of Iceland, then turned it into a song‑led cycle during the lockdown pause. You can hear both halves of its origin. There’s the sweep of strings and woodwinds, and the intimate hush of a voice close to the mic, sketching places and weather and people passing through.

The title track opens like a slow exhale, piano spreading out beneath a mournful reed line and Albarn’s worn, unhurried vocal. It’s a reminder that he doesn’t need scale for impact. A handful of notes and the right timbre will do. Then the record loosens its shoulders. “Royal Morning Blue” moves with a rolling piano figure and a sense of weather shifting in real time, while “Polaris” pulls a steady pulse from the orchestra and tilts toward dream‑pop. Albarn’s melodic sense remains sharp, but he resists polish. He lets the edges fray a little, which suits the material.

“The Cormorant” and “Esja” pull closest to the Icelandic spark that set this off. “Esja,” named for the mountain overlooking Reykjavík, carries a patient, winter‑light mood, and you can almost see low cloud sliding across rock. “Daft Wader” is a classic Albarn pun hiding a tender miniature, its sighing winds and brushed percussion matching his travel‑worn vocal. He’s always had a knack for building worlds out of small details, and these pieces do it with chamber‑size means rather than beats and samples.

There are surprises tucked in. “Giraffe Trumpet Sea” is a textural interlude with brass colors that feel like sonar pings from the deep. “Combustion” bursts in with agitated energy, almost like a sketch scribbled in the margins to keep the blood moving. “The Tower of Montevideo” nods to South America with a lilt in the rhythm section and a melody that drifts like a postcard. And “Particles” closes the set with a soft, humane glow. Albarn has said the lyric grew from a conversation on a flight, a stranger talking about chance and chaos and the small things that change our lives. You can feel that curiosity — the same one that drove him from Britpop to Gorillaz to opera — humming underneath.

If Everyday Robots felt like a diary of urban drift, The Nearer The Fountain reads more like a travel journal threaded with nature writing. The arrangements make space for silence. You notice the air around the strings, the room on the piano keys. It’s not austere, though. There’s warmth in the woodwinds and a lived‑in ache in Albarn’s voice that sets the whole record aglow. No surprise that the project drew thoughtful notices from places like NME and The Guardian; it’s a quiet flex from an artist who trusts patience and tone.

On vinyl, the flow of this record really lands. Side splits give the suite a natural arc, and the low end stays subtle enough that you can nudge the volume and hear the grain in the strings and Albarn’s breath at the mic. If you’re crate‑digging for Damon Albarn vinyl, this one earns its shelf space, and it pairs beautifully with a late evening. The Nearer The Fountain, More Pure The Stream Flows vinyl turns a living room into a winter shoreline for 45 minutes. If you like to buy Damon Albarn records online, look for the Transgressive pressing; collectors who favor Damon Albarn albums on vinyl will appreciate the packaging and the cohesive sequencing. And if you’re browsing a Melbourne record store or hunting through vinyl records Australia listings, this is the copy you pull out for someone who asks “what should I take home for a quiet Sunday.”

It’s easy to frame Albarn’s career as restless. Blur to Gorillaz to The Good, The Bad & The Queen, and on to film scores and stage works. This album doesn’t argue with that. It just shows another path he knows by heart. Water moving toward its source. Songs that take their time to find clarity, then arrive there with grace.