Gruff Rhys – No Issues

      The opening track, ‘Pan Ddaw’r Haul I Fore’, from Gruff Rhys’ ninth solo album, offers a brief reminder of his brilliance, consistency, and unpredictable nature within the first thirty seconds.

      As with much of his earlier work—whether with Super Furry Animals, as a solo artist, or through various collaborations—the standout feature remains Rhys’ voice. Often overshadowed by intricate arrangements, strong songwriting, or the eccentricity that defines his career, his voice is a consistent element that brings together the various facets of his music: a recognizable, soothing, and melodic instrument. At times richly layered and melodic, while at others more nasal and guttural, it never feels out of place and often elevates the multiple musical settings it inhabits.

      This solid foundation is the reason Rhys, unlike many other prolific artists, has never released a truly poor album. While some records may be more challenging than others based on individual taste, the diversity of his work, along with his continuous experimentation with different instruments, genres, narratives, languages, and collaborators, ensures that nearly everyone can find something enjoyable in his discography.

      This context is important for understanding ‘Dim Probs’, his fourth album entirely in Welsh, and it serves as a counterpoint to its immediate predecessor, ‘Sadness Set Me Free’. While the latter is filled with catchy pop songs enhanced by strings and horns, ‘Dim Probs’ is, in his own words, more “sketchy.”

      As indicated, this album is more impressionistic and lo-fi, yet it maintains a sense of internal cohesion. Much of this record was created using a “cheap Swedish catalogue guitar,” with limited contributions from his live band and some backing vocals from Cate Le Bon and H Hawkline on one of the album's standout tracks, ‘Chwyn Chwyldroadol’. However, even in its brighter moments like this and ‘Taro #1 and #2’, ‘Dim Probs’ invites the listener rather than demanding their full attention.

      For those who do not speak Welsh, the pleasure lies in its simplicity, repetition, and minimalism; honestly, Rhys could be singing anything and it would still be captivating. The provided (Google) translations tend to distract rather than clarify, making Jarvis Cocker’s advice of ‘please do not read the words while listening to the recordings’ applicable. Throughout, the soothing musical textures contrast interestingly with lyrical themes of death, weeds, war, and disease. Here, ignorance may indeed offer a form of bliss.

      However, this does not diminish the album’s cultural or political significance. It originated during Rhys’ exploration of 80s Welsh language electronic music cassettes for a potential compilation, and 40 years later, during which he has remained a vital figure in the Welsh language scene, he continues to uphold the same fiercely independent tradition.

      Having started around the time of cassettes, vinyl, Anhrefn, Ankst Records, and John Peel sessions in the late 1980s, earning the title of the best-selling Welsh language album of all time (Super Furry Animals ‘Mwng’) in the wake of Britpop and at the conclusion of the CD era in 2000, ‘Dim Probs’ feels like a full circle moment—an analogue outlier in a digital world. Rhys embodies the punk ethos of disregarding what audiences or the industry might expect while still holding great appreciation for the music itself, along with his language and national identity, in an inclusive, internationalist manner.

      Thus, while ‘Dim Probs’ may seem less substantial upon initial listening compared to other works by Rhys, it remains a gentle (and soothing) expression of warmth and beauty that may ultimately prove more enduring than some of his more extravagant and accessible offerings.

      8/10

      Words: John Williamson