Animal Instincts

It's a surefire way to whip up a crowd this summer: "All governments are liars and murderers," says the voice of the late American outlaw-comic Bill Hicks, in a sound loop repeating over and over as 6,000 fans watch a giant screen flash images of George W. Bush and Tony Blair. Boos turn to cheers as the crowd recognizes the opening strains of The Man Don't Give a F__, the Super Furry Animals' 1996 cult classic and traditional set-closer. Everyone shouts out the chorus, with its riff sampled from Steely Dan's Show Biz Kids: "You know they don't give a f__ about anybody else." It might not be quite loud enough to be heard in Washington or London, but the noise from the big blue tent at Bethesda Rugby Club is enough to fill this normally serene valley in north Wales.

It's the first hometown show in five years for the Super Furry Animals, the most eclectic and technicolor band to emerge from the guitar-drenched mid-'90s. They're here to commemorate the centennial of the longest-ever British strike, when 3,000 local quarrymen walked off the job for three years. But the group isn't all about politics; after all, two yetis play kettledrums during a rendition of Mountain People. In the early days, the five members drove to festivals in their blue tank with built-in sound system, and their live shows routinely featured 40-foot inflatable bears and various other hirsute creatures. And it's that mix of comic and caustic that makes the Super Furries special. Since its first album, Fuzzy Logic, in 1996, the band has been delivering intelligent, often satirical and occasionally frank songs about global warming, rural life, mobile phones and hamsters. "We should have a quota of songs that reflect our name somehow," says lead singer and guitarist Gruff Rhys. "It's very difficult for the Clash to do anything except write songs about conflict, but I think we have the freedom to write about war on one hand and dogs on the other."

SFA's serious side dominates Phantom Power, the band's sixth album, out this week. It has the familiar Super Furry sound — upbeat acoustic sections, driving rock, close harmonies and techno breaks augmented by horns, strings and synthesizer. (Previous comparisons have ranged from ELO to dance-pop conceptualist the KLF.) But Phantom Power is an album of its time. Written and recorded in the second half of last year, the record is full of paranoia, uncertainty and the threat of war. "It was just so present all the time," says Rhys, "it was difficult to discuss anything else." But he adds: "We don't see ourselves as a political band really, we just love music. We'd rather be singing about fast cars and loose women, but we can't help it."

Bill Hicks loops aside, the political sentiment isn't always so obvious — it's given a furry guise. On Liberty Belle, the prewar sparring between Europe and the U.S. is presented as a tale of two cartoon super-heroes, Liberty Belle, the young, beautiful American, and Memory Lane, the European who has forgotten her history. "Liberty Belle is ringing out across the sea/ And everyone sings along though she's singing way out of key." Changing the tone and keeping up the furry-animal quota is Golden Retriever, the first single from the album. "It's about a dog," claims Rhys. This is no doubt only partly true, as the video features the band in yeti costumes and blond wigs rocking out in a 21/2-minute glam-rock stomp. "We wanted to write a head-banging tune. You enjoy an incredible sense of freedom when you head-bang," says Rhys. "And a headache," offers drummer Dafydd Ieuan.

Their tank is long gone — it was sold to Eagles frontman Don Henley — but Phantom Power shows the Super Furries haven't let up. The band even spent a day firing AK-47s and Uzis in a field just to get the right effects. Says Rhys, "We had to phone the police so they didn't think the Taliban had landed in Monmouth." Don't say you weren't warned.