Euros Childs - Chops
[Wichita]

Forget about the Stereophonics and the Manic Street Preachers, there's no doubt in my mind that (along with the Super Furry Animals), Gorkys Zygotic Mynci are Wales' greatest musical export. Obviously the music buying public disagrees with me on this point, but that's by the by, if measured in terms of musical imagination and not units shifted I believe they stand head and shoulders above the pack. As Euros Childs song writing plays a large part in their greatness, it's no surprise that he should be the first of the band to break cover and release solo material. It's his haunting melodies and distinct voice that have dominated Gorky's albums and could easily lead you to the conclusion that he's one of this generations most underrated songwriters.

The single 'Donkey Island' offered a tantalising glimpse of what might lie within the album, a bizarrely inspired slice of electro pop that retains an element of Euros' trademark melancholy, a strange cocktail of sound that despite its seeming incongruity on paper, works brilliantly. As is so often the case though, the first single isn't particularly representative of the rest of the album. On first listen you'd be forgiven for thinking that the album has been left unfinished, a number of the songs are fragmentary, like incomplete musical sketches, while 'Country Girl' has the feel of a home recorded demo. That he has chosen to present the album this way shows an unwavering belief in his craft, few songwriter's have the audacity or the songs to produce something this unpolished and make it work. And it does work, because the whole thing is imbued with an effortless, rambling charm and sense of spontaneity that is deceptively hard to capture.

Moments like the placid, electronic shamble of 'Costa Rita' or the aforementioned 'Donkey Island' exude a more amiable, laid-back vibe than Euros' Gorky's material, gently rolling along in their own hazy fug of happiness, possibly indicative of his new found freedom from the responsibilities of the band. It's not all feel good however, the mournful piano ballad's 'Circus Time' and 'Surf Rage' are at once sad and achingly beautiful and emphasize a deceptively simple melodic gift. Then there's the grand finale, 'First Time I Saw You', which is an improbable eight minutes that combines repetitive, synthesised bass and folk guitar, ending the album on a resolutely experimental note.

My advice when approaching this album is simple, don't be fooled by it's outwardly shambolic nature, just below the surface there lurks a bizarre kind of magic just waiting to be discovered, the kind of magic that can only be conjured by a select few who posses the fertile imagination necessary. So make the most of it, you won't stumble across this kind of buried treasure very often.