Those more well versed in inventive Welsh rockers Super Furry Animals than I have made claim that if the band were not barred from the mainstream by their inherent eccentricities, Gruff Rhys and co. would have found themselves among the preeminent acts of Britain’s britpop surge of the 90s. As it happens, there should be two main takeaways from Saturday night’s homecoming gig at Cardiff’s Utilita Arena: those who find themselves unconvinced by this claim of missed success, should now be persuaded, while those who have long made this proclamation should realise that without the band’s fanciful stunts and quirks, Super Furry Animals would be less than half the band we enjoy today.
Indeed, the dichotomy of revelling in the band’s niche psychedelic awkwardness on such a scale is a uniquely joyous experience, and one that must be vindicating for the group and any long time fans. Accompanied by the towering inflatable visage of the Super Furry Animals mascot, Gruff strolls onto stage wielding a comically large telephone for the opening number: ‘Wherever I Lay My Phone, That’s My Home’. With its tongue- in-cheek, unapologetic politics, and its lyrics referencing the band itself, this lament to modern living acts as an engaging opener, setting the tone for the night's entertainment, and charming a solid response from the audience in equal measure.
What follows is a decade-in-the-making celebration of the weird and wonderful rolodex of the Super Furry Animal’s greatest hits. After ten years away, a set list laden with surefire crowd pleasers is more than welcome but Super Furry Animals are sure to appease the die hard fans with further flung song choices too. This leaves us with a pleasantly unpredictable set that shakes between the upbeat karaoke sessions provided by the likes of 90s classics ‘Something 4 The Weekend’ or ‘God! Show Me Magic’, melancholy romance ballads such as ‘Juxtaposed With U’ and a smattering of the band’s more obscure EDM inspired efforts. Admittedly some of these esoteric deep cuts tend to veer slightly towards overindulgence, (there is a performance of ‘Mountain People’ that arguably overstays its welcome for example,) for a casual Super Furry Animals fan but it would be naive to ever expect a straightforward, fully accessible gig from a band boasting a frontman who dons a Power Rangers helmet for the penultimate song.
‘The Man Don’t Give a f**k’ is chosen as the finale, perhaps for its relatable message of working class fury and sing along potential, or perhaps because it appears to perfectly encapsulate the band’s penchant for laughing at convention in favour of an artistic explosion of music and emotion. Either way it’s an electrifying conclusion, capped off with the reemergence of the band, now hidden underneath their iconic Yeti costumes, for a final colourful, outlandish blowout. No one can say for sure if the ‘Super Furry Animals’ will reunite in another ten years, but if they don’t, they can ride off into the sunset, in their blue tank, knowing they crafted a near perfect send off that celebrates their talent, wit and whimsy appropriately.
