Super Furry Animals’ Furrymania extravaganza

Craig Stephen recalls a weekend of animal magic …

I was working on a Scottish island in the summer of 2001, acting as editor for the local newspaper (in reality there was just me, a junior reporter and a very cantankerous advertising/receptionist lady). It was a bit of a jolly, taking the ferry to the beautiful Isle of Bute where there are ice cream cafes aplenty.

I was due to head back to my home town on the Friday after completing my two-month stint with the paper but the day before I notice that the Super Furry Animals are playing a weekend extravaganza in Glasgow. The Welshmen are promoting the release of their fifth album Rings Around the World, and typically for a group that once bought a tank as a stunt, they are not doing things by quarters.

 A quick call to the PR company dealing with the band and I secure a wristband, which is couriered up and arrives shortly before I leave on the ferry.

In Glasgow I find a flophouse to stay at but at least it contains a games room where I play (and beat) at pool a guy from Cambridge in eastern England who has come up all the way for this gig.

We head down to Glasgow Film Theatre stopping in at the adjacent café beforehand (boozer surely – cynical Ed) and bump into four young guys from Fraserburgh in the north-east of Scotland who have also travelled a bit of a distance (over 300km) for this extravaganza. They’re pissed already.

The Theatre is the venue for a showing of the Rings Around the World film that accompanies the new album of the same name. I’m sat three rows behind the Boys from The Broch. During the film I hear a bit of a commotion in their direction. Later I discover that one of them was punched in the face for unknown reasons – though no reason is acceptable for such an act of wanton violence.  

This event takes on epic proportions as word gets back to the Super Furry Animals and lead singer Gruff Rhys apologies for the act at the acoustic gig AND the main gig.

The film is incredible – a dozen short clips for each song on Rings Around the World. Aidan, the guy from Cambridge, is hyper as hell continually talking throughout and demanding some weed. The guy in the front of us is getting noticeably and increasingly annoyed.

As part of the mini festival there is an after-film party at The Renfrew Ferry on the River Clyde. The Fraserburgh boys are here and are even more drunk having downed spirits since the morning. One of them is called Sair Heid and he certainly will have one the following day. The music is endless and mostly unlistenable techno.

I manage four hours sleep but the adrenaline of a Super Furry Animals mini-festival is keeping me buzzing, so I spend the day walking around this beautiful, green city and check out as many music stores as I can find before meeting up with Aidan at Nice n Sleazy, a small bar on Sauchiehall Street. There’s a stage downstairs with a tiny bar and it doesn’t seem like a suitable venue for a band as big as the Super Furry Animals, but it is a secret(ish) gig for those with wristbands. There’s no need for their usual equipment as this is an intimate, acoustic gig with a spinning roulette which, when spun, determines which song from their extensive repertoire they will play. But it’s not entirely as it seems as Gruff laughingly hints that it’s rigged in favour of some lesser-known album tracks and B-sides.

 The Broch Boys are in a pitiful state by now. One of them tells me he puked up nine times in an hour that morning. Not surprisingly they are all somewhat subdued for the piece de resistance, the main gig at the famous Glasgow Barrowlands, known locally as The Barras.

This provides tasters of the new album as well as various classics such as ‘The Man Don’t Give A Fuck’ at which the entire venue goes mental. The final track ‘(A) Touch Sensitive’ fades into 10 minutes or so of techno babble.

There’s an after-gig party on the ferry again with a change of music – this time more pleasant on the ears.

As I sit on the Sunday morning train that takes a couple of hours to get to Montrose I reflect on an incredible weekend that hasn’t cost me anything other than booze, food, a Furries T-shirt and the crap hostel. And I’ve been to two gigs, a film show and two parties. I’d see the Furries again in my lifetime and they would be as awesome as they were in Glasgow.

Furrymania was also held in Manchester and London (where the secret acoustic gig was not actually secret).

As an aside, I bumped into the Bute newspaper junior reporter I worked with over summer in Auckland a decade later at a Charlie and the Bhoys gig. He had moved to New Zealand too. What’s that you say about it being a small world? I heartily concur.

The Top 14 and a half best albums from Wales

Having previously given us extensive lists on Scottish post-punk bands who saved the world, Australian bands who didn't stink like a decomposing wallaby, and of course 10 Irish Bands who didn’t want to be U2, The Corrs, Boyzone, Westlife et al, our resident jetsetter Craig Stephen now heads deep into the dark valleys of Wales to turn his attention to the best albums from artists in that part of the world:

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Ah, Wales: Shirley and Tom and Bryn and Katherine, magnificent voices born of choirs and coal mining.

There’s a certain charm about the Welsh language on record, and though the bulk of albums recorded in Cardiff, Swansea et al have been in English, we have enough examples in the list to keep Max Boyce happy.

Alas, there’s no Bonnie Tyler. 

Super Furry Animals: Radiator (1997) 

The Furries had a gift for catchy yet complex melodic hooks and in the 1990s they were both part of an accessible indie sound, and yet remained detached from the populist post-Britpop scene. The occasional Welsh-language song, the devotion to drug crim Howard Marks, a languid vocal style and clear influences of prog, punk and even the use of techno - this band was clearly on the outer. 

Radiator is an impressive kaleidoscope of sounds, with songs reeking of melody: they borrow from 60s pop but that’s just a fraction of the story. ‘The International Language of Screaming’ and ‘Hermann Loves Pauline’ were loud, fast and eccentric. They shouted the band’s intentions, and I was listening intently.

Manic Street Preachers: Gold Against the Soul (1993) 

For this writer the choice of Manics’ album wasn’t the confrontational bombast of the debut Generation Terrorists, nor the subsequent million-sellers Everything Must Go and This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours. 

While those have everything the band were good at, Gold Against the Soul was the step forward the Manics needed to make to become the band that they became. Pretending to be both The Clash and Guns’N Roses was never going to sustain a career, after all.

Gold contains by far their most rockist singles – ‘From Despair To Where’, ‘La Tristesse Durera’ and ‘Life Becoming A Landslide’. It signalled a move away from bristling teenage arrogance to a bleaker outlook. 

Tom Jones: Talk of the Town (1967) 

You want a superstar? Here’s Cymru’s own. When I obtained this in an op shop in the 90s in Hull, Jones was a faded and jaded legend, so this record was cheap and cheerful and in great condition. And it was brilliant. 

Jones is a live great, and the stage brings out his best as he does inimitable takes on ‘What’s New Pussycat?’, ‘Thunderball’ and ‘It’s Not Unusual’. From the sound of the crowd’s respectful but enthralled reaction (at what was/is The Hippodrome) I’d guess there wasn’t too much underwear landing on stage. 

Gwenno: Y Dydd Olaf (2015) 

Taking its title and subject from a 1950s Welsh language sci-fi novel by Owain Owain, Gwenno uses that book’s themes of working class oppression to mirror the flaws of contemporary society, as well as the plight of her mother tongue.

On its initial, limited release a year earlier, Y Dydd Olaf barely raised an eyebrow. Perhaps few people could believe that a member of what was essentially a girl pop band, The Pipettes, could record an entire album in a Celtic language (with one track being in Cornish for added credibility) and with such grace and ingenuity. 

Anhrefn: Soft Lights and Loud Guitars (1989)

This is the half album, a split record with English punk band Last Rough Cause on the other side.

Anhrefn’s six contributions include an eccentric and excellent version of the Ruts’ ‘Staring at the Rude Boys’, retitled ‘Edrych Ar Y Rude Boys’ and translated into Welsh, and the manic ‘Bach Dy Ben’ (Rock Against The Rich). The Welsh-language punk act were part of Joe Strummer’s infamous Rock Against the Rich tour in 1988 which has previously been covered in detail on this site.

John Cale: Fear (1974) 

Despite his role in the very American underground act, the Velvet Underground, John Davies Cale was born in the Amman Valley to a coal miner and a Welsh language school teacher.

Post-Velvets Cale released three albums during 1974 and 1975, this being the middle, and strongest, of that trilogy. Fear, which features Brian Eno and Phil Manzanera, was a dense and jagged rock album that pointed the way towards punk.

‘Fear Is A Man's Best Friend’, and the eight-minute ‘Gun’ were among the go-to tracks but few would have resisted a snigger at a track entitled ‘The Man Who Couldn’t Afford to Orgy’. Fear brought Cale back to being a British artist. And an influential one too.

Gruff Rhys: Hotel Shampoo (2011) 

It’s not easy picking a single Rhys solo album, so I’m going to select this on the basis that it features a series of small hotel shampoo bottles the singer pilfered from his room. 

We have slow jazz and funk on ‘Patterns Of Power’, and the Beatles at the beach in ‘Honey All Over’, and a series of glorious hooks that take the Super Furry Animals to a Brazilian carnival. 

Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci: Spanish Dance Troupe (1999)

Gorky's sixth album fused psychedelia, country, and 70s pop, revealing how detached they were from the 1990s mainstream music scene. Yes, even more so than the Super Furry Animals. But that was also the case with acts like Topper and Big Leaves. None of these acts cared about Catatonia. 

The wistful instruments on tracks like ‘Don't You Worry’ and ‘She Lives on a Mountain’ are inspired by traditional folk songs and vaudeville tunes. Acoustic interludes are scattered throughout but the standout ‘Poodle Rockin’ is full of noisy guitars and smooth harmonies.

Howl Griff: The Hum (2010)

Little is known about this quartet but they did release three albums between 2008 and 2012, of which the self-titled debut was entirely in Welsh. 

The Hum is the best of those, with ‘Crash and Burn’ a cosmic outpouring of twee pop, sharing a sense of the surreal with The Coral. And, like those scousers, Howl Griff tell stories of characters, such as a lady who “can help you in the dark of night and improve your memory.” Meanwhile, on ‘Uduhudu’, spirits are raised from the dead in a spangly, manic and effervescent shanty. Glorious, bonkers stuff only the British can do, and the Welsh do best.

Young Marble Giants: Colossal Youth (1980) 

The term "less is more" might have been coined for Colossal Youth, the sole contribution by Cardiff three-piece Young Marble Giants. Released at a time when sharp, inverted guitars were de rigeur, it adheres to a minimalistic ideal of sound and attitude. 

Colossal Youth was quickly lumbered in with post-punk, a broad brush that included quirky acts like The Native Hipster who subjected listeners to beautiful minimalism that were the apposite to the abrasiveness of the Gang of Four or PiL. It was both inventive and retro with a pastoral feel. Kurt Cobain was a fan.

Meilyr Jones: 2013 (2016) 

Jones seemed to appear from nowhere for this collection of energetic tracks which narrate the writer’s daily observations and musings on life. It begins with the jubilant ‘How To Recognise A Work Of Art’ and drew on the humour of The Divine Comedy and the slanted views on life of Morrissey.

2013 was full of high-brow references, from Byron to architecture, but with sing-along choruses and musical quirks. Now, about that follow-up album …

Cate Le Bon: Cyrk (2012) 

Sort-of-folkie Cate Le Bon (no relation to Simon it must be assumed), came from left field, much like Meilyr Jones did. She had released an album before, which was barely noticed even in Abergavenny, but Cyrk with its 1969-71 prog-folk-pop outlook, was more playful and irreverent.

She’s released a few albums since, all quite superb, but there’s something mystical and magical about Cyrk that I am happy to keep returning to.

Neon Neon: Praxis Makes Perfect (2013) 

Here’s that man Gruff Rhys again, this time in tow with an artist called Boom Bip and as Neon Neon they delivered another album-biopic by dedicating this to the life of Giangiacomo Feltrinelli, who was both wealthy and political, to the tune of late 80s synth pop.

I actually think Neon Neon’s first album, Stainless Style, which was inspired by automaker John DeLorean, is superior musically, but Praxis Makes Perfect is a more coherent album, and still strangely rewarding in its own way. And besides, you have to tip your hat to an act that creates an entire album around someone few in the UK or any English-speaking language would be familiar with.

Super Furry Animals: Mwng (2000)

Two albums by the Furries, plus two solo efforts by Gruff Rhys. Hmmm, you’d think there was a trend here. And you’re right, but some biases are healthy, and Rhys and co are among the most talented folk to come out of Cymru.

On Mwng (pron: Moong) the Animals rejected their adopted language for a work sung entirely in Welsh. The result is a charming batch of stripped-down rock songs that isn't as inventive as the previous year's Guerrilla, but still makes for a damned enjoyable listen.

Alun Gaffey: self-titled (2016) 

Alun Gaffey’s first, and so far, only solo album is a curious work of pop, electro and Tom Jones’ B-sides.

‘Palutyllau’ introduces the listener to Gaffey’s influences: 70s funk and soul. ‘Yr Arfon’ pounds with early 80s hip hop beats, and new romantic excitement. Sandwiched inbetween those is a track about dinosaurs (either in the literal or the metaphorical sense) ‘Deinasoriaid’. What’s not to like?