The Sound Of Cosmic Loneliness

Gruff Rhys is a crazy odd Welshman. He likes furry things and spaced-out songs. He likes to come up with weird stories behind which he hides the truth about his projects. Expressions like ‘United States of Britain” and ideas like literary dissolving the unelected House of Lords are thrown at the average music listener and baffle him. They leave you wondering what the hell is the super furry Welsh bloke up to this time.

‘Peace be with you brothers and sisters, there is no death, only light, there is no evil when it collides with good will.’ They said yesterday in a joint statement on the steps of 10 Downing St. And Gruff and Tony da Gatorra unleashed The Terror of Cosmic Loneliness. Or ten tracks that are meant to go down as the weirdest thing taken out this year. At least this is what Gruff must wish.

There are many reasons why it deserves this title. There are plenty of bits and pieces of experimental electronica all through out the album. Dance beats, scratches, misplaced chords. Tony da Gatorra’s voice is not exactly what one would call ‘harmonious’ and the man draws plenty of influences from Mark E. Smith. Add to this echoes that linger around and screams that get embedded in your brain like the ones on Eu Protesto and you have the picture of a person sinking deep in a state of paranoia. But it isn’t only an experimental album. It’s also a rock one. The heavy riffs on Voz Dos Semterra enhance the terror and punctuate every line. Never has the word “violencia’ sounded so scary. In fact, never has the whole Brazilian language sounded so menacing.

And once more, the project shows itself as multilateral. It is, after all, a ‘vs.’ not ‘featuring’. While Gatorra’s vocals sore, Gruff’s seem to melt over each bleep. He sings his way through the distortions and signals of 6868 as if this is SFA’s Golden Retriever. He takes on In A House With No Mirrors, with its bluesy guitar riff, crescendo, metallic drums and bleeps, and turns it into one of the most danceable songs off the album (and easiest to listen to). He sparkles all through the psychedelic-disco outfit Oh! Warra Hoo! as if this is but a SFA song that was remixed by Holy Fuck. He offers oments of tranquillity in between Gatorra’s outbursts. He tones it down and makes it enormously lovable when Gatorra virtually begs you to throw the album into the dust bin.

The Terror Of Cosmic Loneliness is a schizoid album, somewhere between to worlds, one of peace and reassurance everything will be ok and one of fear and constant hardships. It is hard to swallow and maybe many people won’t enjoy Gatorra’s bits. But it is an album that does exactly what it wants, when it wants and has no shame of what it’s done. And neither should Gruff and Gatorra.