The Weekly Coos

When Donald Glover, as Childish Gambino, is focused, some of his best work comes to light, like Because the Internet and Awaken My Love; however, when he feels like he’s throwing more things at the wall, you get stuff like Camp and Atavista, both of which have significant highs, but lesser. His new album, Bando Stone and The New World, is more of the former two, elevated to take hold as a conceptual album where Gambino unveils his artistic range with eclectic new sounds and clean transitions; you get almost taken aback by it. Within a microcosm of sound, Gambino gravitates towards the most robust components of the genres he has experimented in and combines them to create something powerful, especially from the production side. Gambino still has his quirky moments in his raps that showcase the nature in which Gambino presents himself, but it’s when it flips the script into more singing is where the true light shines. Bando Stone has a solid balance between both. So, as you comb through his last album under the moniker Childish Gambino, you’ll love the growth and artistic direction alongside Ludwig Göransson (and more) on break from film scores.

What’s unfortunate about Bando Stone and The New World is that it isn’t fully detached from the accompanying project, yet to get released—a namesake short film; it takes you through this world, likely post-apocalypse, where a character named Bando Stone traverses and rediscovers purpose. In some ways, it’s a parallel of Gambino maneuvering through film and music, not knowing where the onus is after a previous shift in his balance. It can add some detachment to what you think is happening via vocal samples from the film, adding dimensions. However, I don’t believe this is a deal breaker because Gambino’s focus on the parallel allows it to have a separate footing as a studio album, like when you hear Gambino rapping about family or living life in song; from the former, you get some memorable lines, like when he raps, “With my son, watching Bluey like we both Crip” on “Survive.” It’s up to par with some of the fun corniness Gambino brings; it feels real, and yet there is still that lingering effect with what parallels with what, and it leaves me hungry for the accompanying project to make sense of what is getting portrayed through these songs, even if it’s an amalgamation of the past and the now. 

The production is the standout, and without it, I don’t think Gambino gets pushed to make the best of it; he benefits from having input as a co-producer and allowing the business of the beats to make sense instead of just being something thrown together without clear direction. We hear Gambino at his most potent in the singing, over when he is rapping. It’s clear when you have these momentous highs, like with “A Place Where Love Goes,” as Gambino extends his reach in dance music amazingly, thanks to Oscar Holter and Dahi on the co-production—or with “In The Night,” and the beautiful blending of R&B, Soul, and Dance-Pop. His singing has a synchronicity that pushes itself more than some of the simplicity we get with his braggadocio bars. Though “Talk My Shit” is an undisputed banger here, Gambino’s verse has a little aurora, unlike Flo Milli, who shines over a solo Gambino beat. In one of the weaker beats, comparatively, you can hear the lengths taken when he isn’t trying to be Gambino, the rapper. It hits you instantly when it transitions into “Got To Be,” weaving his take on a glitch-hop/rage/plugg hybrid number stronger than the emulation behind “Cruisin,” featuring Yeat—a rare miss here for Gambino; he still comes out on top, especially with his synergy with the featured artists.

Childish Gambino is far from Childish here, and hearing him let the sounds run freely, adds more to the final product. Gambino and Ludwig Göransson have their hands on many tracks, but smooth how it all blends with the copious co-producers—the lavish production from Khruangbin on “Happy Survival,” which strays from some of the captivating pop tinges on the album, standing out as a beautiful contrast to the more bombastic beats. There is cohesion and consistency, even though some of its lesser moments, like the forgettable “Can You Feel Me,” which brings a nice moment between Gambino and his son, it doesn’t fit the flow with the rest. It’s an album with significant highs and has plenty of it. But the lows are distinguishable, like the ones I’ve noted, though not all drawbacks. Bando Stone and The New World is a great swan song for the moniker, and it leaves one optimistic about the potential future held in his hands. Though I’m relatively high on the album, I can’t tack on immense positivity as I do for albums I truly love, like Prism of Pleasure by Elkka, but it hit me enough to recommend it. It has depth, fun, and a mature idea of what was once thought of when you heard Childish Gambino. It’s grand and worth your attention.