Gruff Rhys has never been short on ideas, so much so that his sustained level of inventiveness has over the years begun to be taken for granted. Yet time and again he seems to reappear with something even more wild and outlandish, and you cannot help but marvel at what has just happened.
So the expectation for his show at the Royal Northern College Of Music in Manchester is merely for the usual balance of wonderful music and fantastical visuals. This, however, is not to be. This is the new and really inventive Gruff Rhys.
The gig is presented as a lecture on the topic of the travels of John Evans, a pioneer who went in search of a mythical Welsh prince who had discovered America long before Columbus ever set sail – so nothing like setting yourself a challenge.
Rhys enters the stage and introduces the whole shebang, and as a piece of background shows off a video of a 1970’s documentary upon the mythical Prince Madoc. The true thrust of showing the documentary, and the night as a whole, is secondary to wonder and story and this is the launching point for Rhys’ lecture on the journeys of John Evans. The character of John Evans is the focus of his most recent album, ‘American Interior’, and the majority of the set is drawn from there. There is though a carefully selected a number of previous tracks to fit into the narrative of the lecture, so can and do the two sides work together as a whole?
Incredibly so. The musical performances are beautifully subdued, and the lecture is wonderfully deadpan and witty. Together they provide an informal and relaxed evening. It is as wonderfully balanced as it is performed.
Using nothing but a guitar, microphone, harmonica, metronome and record player, Rhys gives some truly inspired performances of these tracks. There is humour at every turn, even in the songs themselves, on tracks like ‘IoIo’ and ‘100 Unread Messages’, which give a flavour of both John Evans and also the joyous time Rhys has had following in his footsteps.
There are also some wonderfully spirited performances, which considering the one-man-band set up, are superbly inventive in how they are structured. During an exciting ‘Shark Ridden Waters’, and others, sound effects records manage to give a depth and mood that is quite startling. An extended closer and clever use of samplers also allows Rhys to use the whole stage for his performance: signs demanding applause and other props bring the crowd to their feet. Quite brilliant.
But the evening is at its best when Rhys’ humorous interludes and tales of adventure are juxtaposed with the more tender or melancholy musical moments. At these times, like during ‘If We Were Words (We Would Rhyme)’, or on an impassioned ‘American Interior’, you can’t help but feel completely immersed in the wondrous life and times of both characters. Rhys and Evans are cut from the same cloth, both pushing at the edges, both trying to discover something greater than themselves. These kindred spirits are restless and passionate, and see the world on their own terms. And it’s the similarities between the story teller and the story’s protagonist that truly fascinates.
Rhys and Evans might be separated by hundreds of years, but their stories are one and the same. They are Welshmen of passion, who have both set out to not only see the world, but to change it.
And change it they have.