Rise of The Super Furry Animals by Ric Rawlins

Author:Ric Rawlins [Rawlins, Ric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2015-02-09T06:00:00+00:00

The band walked off stage in Tokyo to deafening applause, having blasted their Japanese fanbase with the riotous techno ending to ‘Mountain People’. Gruff stepped through to the backstage area and, after towelling his newly shorn hair, flipped open his rubbery new mobile phone to text the tour manager. All of a sudden a tingling breeze seemed to float through the room, and the neon lights above began to flicker. Sensing weirdness in the room, Gruff turned to find a short Japanese girl standing in front of him, her face illuminated by UV eyeliner, but shadowed by a floppy hat.

‘The bear on your album cover …’ she whispered discreetly. ‘It is the incarnation of a Shinto god, from ancient times. It gives you good things but …’ She turned and looked over her shoulder. ‘It also brings you problems.’

Gruff nodded. ‘Yeah!’

The girl whispered again. ‘Look for Susanoo-no-Mikoto, the God of storms as well as sea magic. I go now.’ As she left the room the lights flickered back on again, and as Gruff stood there scratching his head, the other Furries began to arrive.

*

Meanwhile back in London, Alan McGee was buzzing Brian Cannon into his office to discuss the music video for ‘Demons’. Cannon had directed every video for the Furries so far with his usual flair, but this time he had a radical new idea to propose.

‘Let’s go to fucking Colombia.’

‘That’s your pitch? “Let’s go to fucking Colombia”?’ laughed McGee, though Cannon could see there was a twinkle in his boss’s eye. ‘Jesus Christ, as soon as the band hear that idea, they’re going to go for it like a shot.’

Brian explained that he knew Andrew Loog Oldham, the legendary Rolling Stones manager, who was now living out in Colombia with his celebrity wife, a glamorous South American actress. The plan was simple: Oldham would meet them for two days in the jungle before taking them up the mountains to the capital city of Bogotá. McGee rolled the idea around in his head for a minute, than rang Creation’s video production manager. ‘Look into the options and get back to me,’ he murmured.

Half an hour later, the production manager strode into the office with an air of officialdom.

‘It’s a “no”, I’m afraid, Brian. Colombia’s off. Civil war has broken out over there, it’d be far too dangerous to go.’

Brian stood up. ‘What? Are you taking the piss?’

‘It’s civil war, Brian. They’re simply not having it.’

An hour later, Cannon sprang into action, convinced that the video production manager was being needlessly obstructive. After making a few calls, to his surprise he found himself being connected to the British Embassy in Colombia.

Over in Bogotá, the ambassador sat bored at his desk, toying with a snow globe. The phone rang.

‘Hello, the British ambassador speaking,’ he piped up in a precise, BBC accent.

‘It’s reception, señor. There is a creative director on the phone from England. He says he wants to speak with you about the political situation.’

‘Well, I suppose you’d better put him on.

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