Damon Albarn has forgotten himself.
It's Friday night at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium, and he's in the middle of rehearsals for Gorillaz' first ever stadium show - a multicultural, multimedia pop extravaganza, with more guests than a double-booked Airbnb.
As the band launches into Dirty Harry, the long, pitch-side LED screens light up with a cartoon choir, singing the song's refrain, "all I do is dance".
Apparently taken by surprise, Albarn jumps off the stage to watch, with a broad, toothy grin spreading across his face. Then he spots Argentine rapper Trueno striding across the stadium floor, and rushes over for a hug.
The band play on without their leader - and it takes almost 10 minutes for Albarn to realise he might be needed on stage.
"I'm the worst frontman," he confessed to me, just an hour earlier.
"I'm terrible. I have a very relaxed approach to showmanship."
Quite the opposite: Albarn's laid-back vibes set the tone for the whole entourage.
Backstage at Tottenham, there are more than 30 musicians from 15 different countries, and not a scintilla of ego between them.
"The vibe is ridiculous," says South African singer Moonchild Sanelly. "Damon is open, he's cool, he has the humility.
"Everybody whose art he admires, he brings them along for the ride. Even when he's zenned out, I'll go sit next to him, just so we can breathe each other's air."
"It's an eclectic family for sure," says Kara Jackson, a folk singer and poet who's been a regular guest at Gorillaz' recent shows.
"It's kind of like coming from the South, where I'm from in the States. You have cousins, but they're not really your blood cousins - you've just been calling your mum's best friend your aunt for all these years."
Behind the scenes, it's like a United Nations of music. Malian singer Fatoumata Diawara is chatting away in traditional Wassoulou clothes, while Johnny Marr ambles past in an equally traditional Mancunian parka.
American alt-pop heroes Sparks pull up in a black BMW just after 17:00 BST, and pop open the boot to retrieve their stage costumes (Russell has a pink polka-dot suit, Ron is in funeral clothes).
Twenty minutes later, they are on stage rehearsing The Happy Dictator; followed by Shaun Ryder, hamming up his part on the 2005 classic Dare!
"We're an unusual group, aren't we?" says Marr.
"I don't think there's anything quite like it. Not in my experience, anyway."
Over in the canteen, Syrian and African musicians chow down with Posdnuos from De La Soul and sitar legend Anoushka Shankar. On the menu, honey-glazed lime chicken, roast sea bass, caramelised leek penne and an outrageously moreish passion fruit meringue.
"The catering here is top notch, man," says UK rapper Bashy.
"When we went on the tour with Gorillaz the first time (in 2010), I put on so much weight that, when I came home, I had to get in the gym and get right."
One person who won't need a post-show workout is Jamie Hewlett – who dreamt up the idea of Gorillaz as a "virtual group" with Albarn in 1998.
He's roving the stadium with a camera crew, shooting a documentary commemorating this one-off event.
Ambitiously, the end result will show the human musicians mingling with their cartoon counterparts (2-D, Murdoc, Noodle and Russel), meaning every shot has to be meticulously mapped out.
"The aim is to reveal what it takes to put on a show like this," he says.
"We have artists filming themselves getting on planes from different parts of the world, then everybody coming together here in Tottenham, the arrival of the fans, the Gorillaz show, and the aftermath, when there's only empty beer cups left."
His enthusiasm is laced with surprise. Gorillaz wasn't meant to last for 28 years.
"We were going to do one album for fun," he says. "We had no idea it'd keep going.
"I think it's lasted because of the collaborations, and also because of the cartoons.
"You attract new generations because they like the cartoons, and then your nine-year-old kid is discovering Bobby Womack or Mark E Smith and all of the wonderful people we work with."
But there's a more serious side to the project, which has always mixed pop thrills with cross-cultural understanding.
"The message is more urgent than it's ever been," says Hewlett.
"I'm surprised that's the case, because I thought all of the (prejudice) was gone, but it seems to be coming back. I find it repugnant and hateful, and I can't stand it."
"The idea of saying your culture is somehow superior to another culture, or cannot be compatible is ridiculous," agrees Albarn.
"Everything is inextricably and very obviously connected.
"We all need to understand each other and not fall prey to over-simplistic arguments made by people who don't necessarily believe what they're saying, but see it as a political advantage."
De La Soul star Kevin "Posdnuos" Mercer, who has been recording with Gorillaz since 2005, says exploring the world with Albarn (and his own bandmates) taught him valuable lessons.
"I was blessed to grow up right, and have a pretty open mind, but when you really start to travel and take the time to be in other people's worlds, you'll find out you have preconceived notions that don't [reflect reality]," he says.
"Regardless of where this person is from or what religion they're committed to, we all have truly common moments to share.
"It allows you to cherish what's similar, and not always see the differences in one another."
Gorillaz' latest album, The Mountain, exemplifies that approach. It draws heavily on the Hindu concept of Samsara - the continuous cycle of birth, life, death, and reincarnation - to help Albarn and Hewlett process the death of their own parents.
Across 15 tracks, it blends Indian musicians with archive recordings by the band's deceased collaborators - from actor Dennis Hopper to D12 rapper Proof - creating a bridge between the living and the dead.
"I was in the world of grief and confusion, and it was just nice to have all those people with me," says Albarn.
"They helped me, in a way, deal with my own grief, and come out the other end feeling positive, which is all any of us really can hope for."
Mercer can relate. He was going through a similar process on De La Soul's 2025 album Cabin In The Sky - working with outtakes and unfinished ideas from his bandmate Dave Jolicoeur, who died in 2023.
In Tottenham, he performs alongside videos of his old friend on a version of Feel Good Inc that rumbles like a juggernaut.
Keeping that connection alive "has been so meaningful," the musician says.
"You'll find yourself crying, very teary-eyed - but the love for him is always there, and his spirit is always there."
It's not the only time the show offers a chance to reflect.
Indian playback singer Asha Bhosle - once immortalised in Cornershop's Brimful of Asha - also appears on the video screens, singing The Shadowy Light.
It was the last song she recorded before her death this April, and finds the star asking the boatman to ferry her across the river to the afterlife.
On stage, Asha's granddaughter Zanai sings backing vocals, in a symbolic passing of the torch.
"I think she would love this moment," Zanai tells the band after they rehearse.
Twenty- fours later, 70,000 fans hold up their phones and illuminate the stadium as Asha Bohsle's vocals ring out.
Moved by the spectacle, Albarn asks the band to repeat the song's final chorus, whispering the lyrics like an incantation.
It's a remarkable moment of stillness in a concert that's largely a colourful, career-spanning celebration.
19/2000's got the cool shoeshine, Rhinestone Eyes is suitably electric-tric-tric, and Clint Eastwood puts sunshine right in the bag.
The audience rarely stops moving. And, yes, there are thousands of beaming faces for Dirty Harry's cartoon choir.
Albarn occasionally remembers his Blur-era stage moves, racing into the crowd and declaring, "I feel your love".
But he's just as comfortable ceding the spotlight to Little Simz, or chuckling as he trades riffs with flautist Ajay Prasanna.
As one reviewer put it, he's not so much a band leader as "the conductor of an entire musical ecosystem".
"I like that because that's how I like to see myself," he says.
"I can do the frontman thing, but I love being part of a community."
Moonchild Sanelly puts it more colourfully.
"Damon's a mother crazy guru," she laughs. "He's insane."
Encore
