Album Review: Gruff Rhys - Hotel Shampoo

Gruff Rhys is back with his third 'proper' solo album - although you'd probably be forgiven for wondering whether the Super Furry Animals frontman had ever really gone away. Last year saw the release of his experimental collaboration with "Brazilian TV and VCR repairman and musical freedom-fighter" Tony da Gatorra, as well as the premiere of his first documentary movie, 'Separado!'. This latest effort has been inspired by the mountains of complimentary bottles of shampoo Gruff has been hoarding ever since he started touring with SFA back in the mid-nineties. As Rhys himself explains: “Having never kept a journal, these items have become like diary entries, triggering memories of all those buildings and random people I've met and inspiring songs on the album.” It says much about the man's musical standing that a quote like that makes perfect sense coming from him, while it would likely come off like total nonsense if just about anyone else said it. To his loyal fans he is - and always will be - a treasure, without a pretentious bone in his body and quite possibly the most loveable Welshman alive. Most people who opt to use a beat-up pound-shop keyboard onstage just end up looking and sounding self-indulgent; when Gruff does it he’s a genius, although quite how he pulls it off I'll never know.
 
Anyway, what about these thirteen new songs? Pretty good overall, I guess. Put it this way: there’s nothing here that will have you reaching for the skip button. Equally, however, there isn’t really anything to rival his best work with The Furries. It all sounds more or less EXACTLY how a Gruff Rhys solo record should sound: obtuse lyrics about nothing and everything; warm, fuzzy guitars; a mariachi-sounding number; a couple of piano-led ballads - all the usual ingredients are present and correct. The two slower numbers are just about the highlights, with 'If We Were Words (We Would Rhyme)' proving particularly affecting. Indeed, the song offers rare-enough evidence of just what the singer is capable of when he decides to remove his psychedelic hat for a few minutes and write straight from the heart.
 
Hotel Shampoo is hard to really pick holes in: it amounts to another undeniably solid entry in the Rhys canon. However, its subtle shortcomings are likely to remind listeners just how important the rest of SFA are to Gruff's muse; those epic guitar solos, the unexpected dashes of electronica, and just the sheer scale of the band's finest work are all notable by their absence here. All of which is bound to leave you yearning for a follow-up to 2009's Dark Days/Light Years. Until one does materialise, this decent - albeit unspectacular - solo collection will have to do.