Issue 95 / Dec18/Jan19

REVIEWS
Superorganism
Arts Club – 16/10
Have you ever seen a prawn start a world war? No? Fair
enough. Have you ever kissed a prawn and got a cold sore?
Yes? Whatever floats your boat. Confused? Always. These
are the kind of questions you’re faced with when you attend a
SUPERORGANISM show. Be prepared.
Superorganism burst onto the live scene late last year after
Superorganism (John Middleton / johnmiddletonphoto.co.uk)
taking the internet by storm and releasing their self-titled debut
album in March of this year. Comprising eight members from
around the world who met online and are influenced by the
internet, BoJack Horseman and incorporate household objects
into their music. They ooze the 21st Century meme culture we
live in today. Superorganism are different, and there is no beating
around the bush that they are weird. Weird in a pleasant, ‘what’s
going on?’ kind of way. The kind that means you can’t take your
eyes off the stage for the whole show. You daren’t blink in case
you miss a giant whale float across their projected backdrop
which continuously flashes with bizarre images of psychedelic
cats; or the synchronised tambourine dance moves of the three
backing singers B, Ruby and Soul. I recently spoke to Soul about
their live shows and he described it as a “circus”. I was intrigued,
but now I totally understand what he meant.
The show starts in the bizarre fashion you would expect; six
out of the eight members of the band walk onto the Arts Club
stage draped in glittery cloaks to a video of their visual design
member, Robert Strange, declaring the show has been cancelled
due to the world being consumed by the internet. The show
isn’t cancelled, but he’s not wrong about the internet. Then,
out causally strolls, Orono, the group’s 18-year-old lead singer,
Chinese takeaway in one hand and a can of Magners in the other.
Superorganism might have been born in the digital age, but
they still have an edge of indie rock ‘n’ roll to them. And while a
lot of their music may be sampled, there are still guitars, drums
and keyboards chiming away on stage adding to the live show
experience. Strobes light up the room and excited cheers come
from a very mixed audience of young and old fans, fans from
different digital generations, as the group kick off the evening
with SPRORGNSM. Still adorned in capes, the backing vocalists
burst into their dance routines, find a couple of orbs that glow
in the dark and jump right into Night Time. A rendition of Happy
Birthday from the crowd is instigated by Orono for a 16-year-old
in the audience; a heart to heart with the crowd over her unfished
dinner is had; and her excitement over being of legal age to drink
in the UK is celebrated with more cider before The Prawn Song –
a personal favourite – kicks in. There is something surreal about
a room full of people singing “I’m happy just being a prawn”,
like it’s totally normal. However, I think it perfectly sums up the
playfulness and experimental nature of the art-pop band who
don’t take themselves too seriously.
Wrapping up the show with fan favourites Everybody Wants
To Be Famous and Something For Your M.I.N.D., after only 45
minutes they’ve played every song on their album. It’s all over
far too quickly. We must not forget, though, 18 months ago
Superorganism didn’t exist. So, to be packing out venues around
the world on the back of a small amount of internet exposure and
one album is pretty impressive. Where next for their circus? Just
imagine how big and wild it could be after another 18 months.
Sophie Shields
Gruff Rhys
+ Group Listening
Harvest Sun @ Arts Club – 17/11
Wales hosts a mini invasion of Arts Club tonight; it’s like
a tasty buffet of contemporary Welsh music making. Support
duo GROUP LISTENING’s combination of clarinet and piano/
keyboard played by Sweet Baboo’s Stephen Black and Paul Jones
respectively, lull into an easy, thoughtful frame of mind. Their
all-too-short set of ambient instrumental interpretations of music,
delivered by a range of composers and songwriters, is fresh and
uplifting. In a version Euros Childs’ The Dog, the isolation of the
clarinet adds a touching poignancy. A soothing, simple piano
replaces Childs’ original buzzy keys; it still retains that unique
hymnal calm. Raymond Scott’s The Happy Whistler, intended as
a hypnotic baby coddler, we’re told, is cheery and bright.
There’s a mystery man lashing what looks like human teeth
at Black and Jones from up above. But closer inspection reveals
proceedings aren’t quite so macabre, it’s actually pistachio nuts.
Is this a new rock ’n’ roll thing?
When GRUFF RHYS ambles on to the stage half an hour
later, it’s to Richard Strauss’ Also Sprach Zarathustra, the same
music Elvis Presley karate chopped his way on stage to in Las
Vegas back in the 70s. The Super Furry Animals front man is truly
a fellow icon, albeit slightly more low-key and one who enjoys
natural fibres over an unforgiving polyester-stretch jumpsuit. He
has a status carrying with it its own tributes and dedications. It
seems fitting, then, that Rhys’ band is a current Cardiff supergroup
of sorts, starring residents of the city. Stephen Black
returns onstage for bass, sax and flute duties, effervescent ex-
Flaming Lip Kliph Scurlock settles behind the drum kit, and The
Peth and Sibrydion’s Osian Gwynedd is master of the keyboard.
Gruff Rhys himself sits with an acoustic guitar and picks up and
twiddles with electronic gadgets arranged about his feet; when
he does the latter, he’s happy to be in his own quirky little wizard
world of beeps and squeaks.
The foursome take the unusual route of performing the
Babelsberg album in faithful, formal running order, a move
typically reserved for anniversary tours of decades old reissued
records. There’s no need for a smattering of hits to keep interest
piqued over this first hour; while Babelsberg is, it’s fair to say,
Rhys’ straightest and most grown-up album to date, he’s not an
artist to bask in past glories.
If anything, the performance tonight underpins what a
favourite Babelsberg has become in these few short months.
The orchestra on the recording isn’t missed in this more stripped
down band arrangement. When Rhys performs the Lily Cole
duet Selfies In The Sunset on his own, a more earthy charm
replaces sweetness, but the wit and irony stays firm. Negative
Vibes invites audience participation; it gets it. On the album,
Architecture Of Amnesia leaps out because it wouldn’t be out
of place on a Super Furry Animals record, yet live we have a
bare-footed Scurlock adding a little more risk; he seems ready to
pounce into an adventurous drum solo, but pulls himself back to
safety in the nick of time.
The following romp through Gruff Rhys’ back catalogue is an
even more familiar pleasure. There’s a wonderful version of SFA’s
Gruff Rhys (Lucy McLachlan / lucyalexandramclachlan.com)
Colonise The Moon, with Black on glorious sax and even a golden
spotlight to match. Rhys, a longstanding champion of the Welsh
language and music, also includes the joyful Gyrru Gyrru Gyrru
and Lolo.
There’s also room for storytelling, with crowd favourite
Skylon’s epic tale explained and printed out, pages and pages
and pages of it. And we can’t forget the absurd theatre of the
notorious handmade signs. TAX THE RICH (OK, sounds good),
APPLAUSE (that was going to happen anyway, he’s safe) and the
rest duly hoisted up, cheered at and lashed about – like pistachio
nuts – bringing the experience to an anarchic and unexpectedly
emotional end.
Cath Bore / @cathbore
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