It's a classic Gorky's song - folky, fanciful, and skewed in all the right places - but it's just about the only trace of that Beefheartian whimsy you'll find on the album. In fact, Spanish Dance Troupe's sound is saliently countrified. To the avid Gorky's fan, the change is noticeable. Gorky's are Welsh, you know, which if you believe the hype, means that they write charmingly pastoral tunes evocative of rolling green hills, toadstools, and trundling gnomes. 
So why the twang, and why do their latest songs put in me in mind of log cabins and Kentucky moonshine? And furthermore, why am I not all that surprised? The answer is simple, says Childs, back to his fidgety self after soundcheck. He and guitarist Richard James were fed since their youth on a smorgasbord of Merle Haggard, Flying Burrito Brothers, Gene Clark, Gram Parsons and the Louvin Brothers, so it only seemed natural to pick up acoustic guitars and channel those spirits. If the end result sounds "American," so be it. For all of Childs' seeming self-consciousness, his musical motives are refreshingly guileless.
In addition to the ruddier shades of Haggard and Clark, Gorky's palette has always included Celtic daubs of Incredible String Band, Nick Drake, and Soft Machine alum, Robert Wyatt. Childs and James have always been fans of Wyatt's meandering style, so naturally, when pressed for cover art ideas for Spanish Dance Troupe, they enlisted Wyatt's wife Alfie Benge to do the honors. The band first met her the day she delivered the final product, and like endearingly nervous school kids, prayed to God that she hadn't done a terrible job. Not that they expected it to be terrible, but...you know, they would have felt awful all the same.
Euros Childs is an uncomfortable-looking fellow. Darting about and scratching his head absentmindedly, he looks like a gawky freshman on his first day of high school. You can almost hear him thinking: "Now where did I put that Biology book?" Only thing is, he's rushing to get his band's soundcheck underway and can't seem to find a vital power chord amid the mess of gear on the cramped stage. Once he's finally found it and stoops to plug it in, he shoots up to the microphone to mutter a nervous "Cheers" by way of apology to his sound technician.
When 1995's Bwyd Time became the number one indie album in the UK, Mercury Records pricked up their ears. Signing the band the following year, the label swiftly threw together Introducing Gorky's Zygotic Mynci, a kind of Gorky's primer for American audiences. Amazingly, despite considerable buzz and rave reviews for '97's excellent 
Add to that another successful tour, and you get a sort of new and improved Gorky's - a more experienced Gorky's. Childs and James also cite America's openness to their music as added inspiration. In the UK, audiences are just as supportive, but seem to have more pre-conceived notions about what the wacky wizards might pull out of their conical hats next. Childs seems eager to develop Gorky's sound, but you get the impression that he's not especially excited about pleasing anyone but himself - as well as the rest of his mates in the band.
I'm wondering whether knowing each other so intimately through those formative years has had any adverse effect on the group. Childs and James matter-of-factly concur that creativity can at times dry up, but all it takes is a little dedication - a quality none of the members seem to lack. Having a nine-year back catalogue of wonderfully intricate songs also helps keep things interesting. Though Dance Troupe is decidedly low-key, Gorky's aren't known for taking the easy way out when it comes to coming up with melodies. They have had slightly more difficulty playing some of the newer songs live this time around, but pulling out many of their old favorites keeps them up to the challenge.