Gorky's Zygotic Mynci - Psycho-pop-folk from Wales

Wales is often regarded as a marginal country from an artistic point of view, a sort of mere appendage of England, when in fact it possesses an ancient culture rooted in Celtic tradition. It is also a land steeped in mythological suggestion, serving as the backdrop to the legend of the Arthurian cycle, and it gave birth to major figures of the literary world such as the poet Dylan Thomas (a certain Robert Zimmerman would pay tribute to him with his stage name), the celebrated philosopher-mathematician Bertrand Russell, and the less well-known but talented writer Arthur Machen, author of novels and stories in the fantastical, dreamlike-esoteric genre. But even in the realm of pop-rock, Wales's output is remarkable, varied and dense with quality: from the popular phenomenon Tom Jones to John Cale, the brilliant viola player of Velvet Underground, from the power-pop of Badfinger to the epic rock of Alarm, from the post-punk of Scritti Politti and Young Marble Giants to the britpop of Manic Street Preachers, Stereophonics and Super Furry Animals. And then there are Gorky's Zygotic Mynci, a cult band par excellence, idolized by their fans and ignored by everyone else, more overlooked than forgotten: anyone who has listened to even one of their records is unlikely to remain indifferent to what can rightly be called one of the best-kept secrets of British pop, thanks to a peculiar style, at times brilliant and always unmistakable. A bizarre band, starting with a name of dubious pronunciation and uncertain meaning — by the band's own admission, the most ridiculous name they could think of.

Equally bizarre and unusual are their points of reference, and consequently their musical output: while the 1990s in the UK saw the explosion of britpop, essentially a reworking of the great sixties bands, at times marked by strong Smiths-like or new wave influences, the Gorky's instead looked to the acid folk of the Incredible String Band and the more traditional sound of Fairport Convention, to the Canterbury sound and the songwriters who emerged from that scene, such as Kevin Ayers, to psychedelia and the most visionary prog, and more rarely to the most oblique indie rock, all of it reshuffled and reproduced through a pop lens that is often disorienting, full of instrumental and vocal acrobatics with a touch that is at times Zappa-esque and more often fairy-tale-like. Too pop for purists of psychedelic and progressive rock, too peculiar for fans of more conventional pop, they find themselves in a no-man's-land where the blend of experimentation and irresistible melodic hooks, their often oddball charm, together with the heavy use early in their career of the Welsh language — unknown to most (even to most Welsh people) — earns the Gorky's an incredible record that confirms their status as genuine and adorable losers: they are the only band in the UK to have had eight singles reach the top 75 without ever cracking the top 40.

Gorky's Zygotic Mynci formed in the early 1990s in Carmarthen — a town in south Wales famous at home because, according to legend, the wizard Merlin was born nearby — when the then fifteen-year-old Euros Childs, singer, keyboardist and future band leader, met guitarist John Lawrence and bassist Richard James at school. Before long they were joined by Megan Childs, Euros's sister and violinist, completing a core line-up to which other musicians would be added and rotated for brief periods.

After producing a cassette ("Allumette") in '91, the following year the Gorky's released Patio, their debut album, put out by the small Welsh label Ankst, which would later handle the first singles by Super Furry Animals. Recorded while the Gorky's were still minors, Patio gathers both home and studio recordings, revealing a talent that is inevitably still raw but promising, endowed with an anarchic and chaotic streak. Whether soaring on electrifying psycho-pop-punk rollercoasters (the irresistible, electric "Peanut Dispenser", driven by acid wah wah, "Dafad Yn Sariad" and "Barbed Wired") or letting themselves be lulled by pastoral ballads ("Lladd Eich Gwraig"), what strikes most are the ineffable, surreal melodies, made even more peculiar by Euros Childs's teenage voice and the use of the Welsh language, which makes everything even more evocative.

Sonically, this is their most (indie) rock album, dominated by driving rhythms and electric guitars ("Gwallt Rhegi Pegi" is a sort of Welsh take on the Pixies of "Doolittle") that veer into noise with the ultra-lo-fi of "Sally Webster". The psychedelic nature running through the various tracks, thanks to a layered sound, comes through in "Oren Mefus Chadno", where a desert-rock riff intertwines with Megan's violin, while the twee playfulness of "Mr. Groovy" shows their poppier side. Listening to the record leaves you disoriented and in awe of such imagination and stylistic variety, so much so that fellow Welshman John Cale, overcome with enthusiasm, would name Patio the best album of all time, and the famous DJ John Peel would play the band's songs on his BBC radio show.

In 1994, a year in the UK marked by albums such as Parklife by Blur and "Definitely Maybe" by Oasis, Tatay came out — the second album (the first recorded entirely in a studio) — with which the Gorky's seemed like aliens arriving from another space-time compared to their far more celebrated britpop peers. Having abandoned the electricity of their early days in favor of acoustic textures and experimental leanings, with Tatay the band pays homage to their musical heroes with a shorter but equally sweet version of "Caroline" by Robert Wyatt's Matching Mole, and the unambiguous tribute of "Kevin Ayers", a brief, fairy-tale-like sketch with flute and angelic choruses that bears the name of the author of "Shooting At The Moon", described in the album's liner notes as the greatest album of all time.

The Canterbury-style experimental sound echoes through avant-garde, pataphysically-tinged pieces like the title track, an instrumental presented in two versions (the first in a krautedelic style, the second more area), and in "Amsermaemayindod – Cinema", whose left and right audio channels differ for an unsettling effect.

At the same time, Gorky's move closer to what would become their signature genre, namely acoustic folk with an acid, dreamlike edge, now sleepy and dazed ("Thema o Cartref"), now epic and lopsided in a way only certain Neutral Milk Hotel can manage (the sweeping chorus of "Y Ffordd Orem"). Among the tracks, "Beth Sy'n Digwydd I'r Fuwch" stands out, built on arpeggios and mysterious melodies that weave a hypnotic pattern before derailing into electric territory in its central section, the album's only concession to rock.

The following year, as the Britpop phenomenon exploded for good with the Blur-Oasis media showdown, on the margins of the spotlight came Gorky's third album, Bwyd Time, dominated by the typical sounds of psych-folk, enriched for the occasion by an ever-broader instrumental palette including piano, organ, synthesizers, trumpet, saxophone, flute and even a sitar played by Anthony Saffery of Cornershop.

Opened by a title track that parodies disco in a deliriously silly way, the album is mainly made up of acoustic ballads with imaginative arrangements, among which a honeyed "Miss Trudy" stands out – not especially original by their standards, but catchy enough to be chosen as single of the week by the New Musical Express – along with "Oraphis Yn Delphie", embellished with a trumpet worthy of "Sgt. Pepper's", and especially "Gewn Ni Gorffen", a metaphysical alchemy of arcane vocal lines and mesmeric spirals of organ, strings and synth.

But towering over the whole album is "The Game Of Eyes", a kind of soundtrack to an absurdist musical or a possible hit from a parallel world, between delirious vocals, tempo changes, liquid wah wah and orchestral explosions.

With Bwyd Time, the first phase of Gorky's career comes to a close, sealed by the 1996 compilation Introducing, which gathers some of the most significant tracks from their early albums alongside others released only on singles or EPs, such as "Merched Yn Neud Gwallt Eu Gilydd", "If Fingers Were Xylophones" and "Why Are We Sleeping?", genuine gems of psychedelic pop marked by dizzying vocal and instrumental swings, to be counted among the band's masterpieces and proof of their overflowing creativity.

In 1997 Gorky's moved to Fontana Records with Barafundle, whose title is taken from the name of a beach near Euros Childs's home. The move to a bigger label might have led to a more palatable, radio-friendly sound and style, but the band consistently carried on its exploration and rediscovery of British folkloric roots. The only concession to pure pop is "Patio Song", an otherwise excellent track that could rival the classics of the sixties, opening straight into a chorus ("Oh isn't it a lovely day...") of infectious optimism, which, released as a single, achieved the band's best chart placing, reaching number forty-one on the UK charts.

On Barafundle, Gorky's abandon pure avant-garde but have fun experimenting within the song form, composing near-prog mini-suites that alternate different elements: electric scratches and gentle caresses ("The Barafundle Bumbler", "Meirion Wyllt"), pastoral moments and catchy refrains, angelic vocalizations and medieval suggestions. It's precisely these latter touches that give the record a timeless dimension, with references ranging from classic 70s sounds to who knows what bygone century, thanks to the use of the shawm, an ancient oboe-like wind instrument played by Lynn Childs, Euros's father, in the interlude of "Starmoonsun", to the Gregorian chants that introduce "Pen Gwag Glas", or the instrumental "Cursed Coined And Crucified" – all tracks of rare evocative power that draw the listener into a fantastical world.

A jaw harp even turns up in "Diamond Dew" and "The Wizard And The Lizard", reviving the freak tradition of the Incredible String Band. All these unfashionable, evocative elements blend in perfect balance, helped also by deeply inspired songwriting with no weak spots, to the point that even the more straightforward songs like "Heywood Lane", "Sometimes The Father Is The Son" and "Dark Night" finally hit home emotionally too, and not just for their more eccentric sides.

Barafundle is thus the central album of the band's discography, both chronologically and stylistically, and probably their qualitative peak. The album is produced by Gorwell Owen, already known for his work with Super Furry Animals, who would go on to collaborate with the band on all their subsequent albums.

Arriving at their fifth album in 1998 with Gorky 5, the group, if anything, heightens the "fantasy" side of the previous record, while reshuffling the deck: gone is the prevalence of acoustic guitars and the abundance of unusual instruments, replaced by a prevailing use of clean-toned electric guitars, piano and strings, but above all a more melancholic, pensive mood comes through, making the record a perfect backdrop for gloomy winter evenings thanks to muffled, enveloping sounds and increasingly rarefied atmospheres. The lightness and sweetness of pieces like "Dyle – Fi", "Tsunami", "Hush The Warmth" and the closing "Catrin" – seemingly simple yet with ineffable, evocative melodies – suggest a dimension somewhere between fairy tale and surreal, while the cinematic instrumental "Not Yet" anticipates the dreamiest Flaming Lips of "The Soft Bulletin".

The tribute to the purest English folk comes in the form of "Only The Sea Makes Sense", worthy of the best Fairport Convention. The only exceptions to this crepuscular mood are the single "Sweet Johnny", opened by a country-ish violin that gives way to glam-rooted electric riffs, a noisy interlude and a very sweet ending – a perfect example of how Gorky's conceive their schizophrenic pop songs – and finally "Theme From Gorky 5 (Russian Song)", which sounds like it came straight out of an Eastern European cabaret, complete with balalaika.

Unjustly underrated by critics, Gorky 5 is yet another gem in a discography that was starting to become truly remarkable.

The gradual softening and shift toward a more conventional style, which notably coincides with the abandonment of the Welsh language, takes full shape on 1999's Spanish Dance Troupe, their most pop album up to that point. While it does contain strong tracks like "Poodle Rockin'", an electrifying flash worthy of Xtc on actual ecstasy, the dreamy psychedelia of "Over And Out", worthy of early post-Barrett Pink Floyd, and a delightful pop song like the title track, which beyond the usual violins also brings out a mariachi trumpet, the album also shows the band's first cracks in a weak middle section, with in sequence the syrupy dirge of "Don't You Worry", the pleasant but unoriginal country-pop of "Faraway Eye", the instrumental "The Fool", which like its counterparts fails to reach the heights of the past, and "Hair Like Monkey Teeth Like Dog", a paradoxically unfunny divertissement.

Thankfully, the magic returns in the closing stretch, with the harmonic wonders of "Freckles" and "The Humming Song", wistful ballads with echoes of the more melancholic Mojave 3.

Received with mixed reviews from critics, Spanish Dance Troupe closes out the central, major phase of Gorky's career in an inconclusive way, caught between the creativity of the past and a domestication that foreshadows the normalization of the albums to come.

The process becomes all too evident on the following year's EP, The Blue Trees, played entirely acoustic, a one-note unplugged effort that seems to place the band within the New Acoustic Movement. A work lacking the distinctiveness of previous records, with the sole exception of "Face Like Summer", a track in their unmistakable style, made of harmonies that are at once sweet and unusual.

The EP marks the start of the band's final (and lesser) phase, continuing with How I Long To Feel That Summer In My Hear in 2001. At this point, the conversion from a weird band into classic-pop songwriters becomes fully apparent, with shorter track lengths, conventional structures, lean arrangements and catchy melodies. It's precisely the latter that hold together an album which revisits the nostalgic, melancholy mood of Gorky 5 and draws, albeit with their usual folk spirit, on the sweeter side of the Velvet Underground and on the masters of British pop from the Beatles onward, with a belated nod to britpop.

"Honeymoon With You", "Stood On Gold" (released as a single), and the title track are the new gems of an album that, taken on its own, would be quite commendable, but set against a discography as significant as Gorky's, it pales somewhat next to the (master)pieces that came before. At the same time, though, How I Long To Feel That Summer In My Hear could serve as an introduction to the band, thanks to its immediacy and a style that, although it has become more conventional, remains instantly recognizable.

The same applies to their last album, Sleep/Holiday (2003), an enjoyable record that adds nothing new, offering the usual roster of melancholy piano ballads ("Happiness", "Red Rocks") and acoustic ones ("Only Takes A Night", reminiscent of Nick Drake), interspersed with their final electric jolt, "Mow The Lawn", the track that comes closest to rock'n'roll.

At times there are moments of fatigue, as in "Pretty As A Bee", their longest track by far (over nine minutes), built on tired late-Floyd-era devices that thankfully dissolve into Euros Childs's by-now-classic, sweet and harmonious vocalizing, as well as into the superfluous "Country".

Gorky's swan song presents a band that seems to run on autopilot, and it's probably their least memorable work, yet still an enjoyable one.

In 2006, Gorky's disbanded for good. The hope of seeing them reunited, in an era when even the most unlikely reunions happen, has faded following statements from band members who, despite remaining on good terms with one another, rule out getting back together.

Grieving Gorky's fans can console themselves with the extensive solo discography of former frontman Euros Childs, with the supergroup Jonny, which he formed with Norman Blake of Teenage Fanclub, and with his collaboration with the band Race Horses. Still, there's a bitter aftertaste in the end of a band that was active at the wrong time (the grunge and britpop era) and never managed to be reappraised in time, whether during the 2000s, marked by a particular interest in freak-folk, or in these years of psychedelia revival. But part of Gorky's appeal also lies in being unknown to the wider public, remaining a cult reserved for the initiated few, keepers of a secret to be jealously guarded.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google