Rise of The Super Furry Animals
Rise of The Super Furry Animals
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Rise of the Super Furry Animals tells the story of the greatest psychedelic pop band of our time.
Welsh speakers with a lust for global communication, the Super Furry Animals shot to fame on Creation Records and found that, thanks to the record sales of label-mates Oasis, they suddenly had a vast budget to play with. Wasting no time, they bought an army tank and equipped it with a techno sound-system, caused national security alerts with 60-foot inflatable monsters, went into the Colombian jungle with armed Guerrilla fighters, and drew up plans to convert an aircraft carrier into a nightclub.
Yet SFA's crazed adventures only tell half the story. By mixing up electronic beats, surf rock, Japanese culture and more, the band recorded some of the most acclaimed albums of the millennium, all the while documenting the mobile phone revolution in their uniquely surreal way.
Written with the band’s own participation and housed in a jacket designed by Pete Fowler, the man behind some of SFA’s most iconic album covers, this is the remarkable story of their ascent to fame.
computers and email and mobiles and satellites on the way. Geography is coming apart at the seams. You’ll get bands coming from Tunisia soon!’ Despite the Furries’ determination to keep the LP as positive as possible, the long wintery nights of Anglesey eventually influenced them in subtle, reflective ways. ‘We were going through an emotional time,’ says Gruff now. ‘“Demons” is about a relationship falling apart, and trying to keep a lid on demonic forces that are going to destroy you and trying
hailing ‘some of their most beautiful songs to date’. With the resulting tour and a stage show illuminated by a huge model lighthouse, the band drew to a close an era of huge, coast-to-coast US tours. The post-Creation years had made them better known than ever in the States, yet they’d also rejected lucrative commercial offers in the name of protecting their integrity. ‘We kind of spurned the financial opportunities that came our way in America,’ says Gruff. ‘Sprite and Coke tried to buy
biker gangs and proto-ravers. On the first night of the festival, Maffia Mr Huws were headlining the main stage while Gruff and his best mate Rhodri decided to hang back with a few beers. Suddenly from the shadows, a gang of outsiders approached – led by a teenager with a peroxide mohawk. ‘Good evening!’ came the charming burr. ‘I’m Rhys Ifans and these are my cronies. We were just handing out free copies of my fanzine Poen Mefwlfn1 – and were wondering if you’d care for a copy?’ ‘Thankyou!’
said Rhodri, taking one. The Mohawk took a suspicious look around the park, chewing on his cocktail stick. ‘Not a bad festival you have here,’ he mused. ‘Although I must say the locals haven’t exactly held us to their bosoms. One person even attempted to beat the shit out of me …’ ‘Ah, sorry to hear that,’ said Gruff. ‘Not a problem. To be honest, it was probably my own fault. I shook him by the balls, you see.’ Gruff and Rhodri nodded slowly. ‘Right, we’d best be off. If you see a man with
train then?’ After a few seconds’ pause for thought, a hand lifted up from behind a seat, and pointed at Gruff. Then another hand appeared, pointing at the teacher. The two accused could not quite believe what was happening: this was not Spartacus. This was the opposite of Spartacus. ‘Right! You two, out!’ Gruff and the teacher stood in the middle of the tracks as the train pulled away, slowly coming to terms with their new environment. The situation didn’t look promising: the horizon