The Top 14 and a half best albums from Wales

Having previously given us extensive lists on Scottish post-punk bands who saved the world, Australian bands who didn't stink like a decomposing wallaby, and of course 10 Irish Bands who didn’t want to be U2, The Corrs, Boyzone, Westlife et al, our resident jetsetter Craig Stephen now heads deep into the dark valleys of Wales to turn his attention to the best albums from artists in that part of the world:

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Ah, Wales: Shirley and Tom and Bryn and Katherine, magnificent voices born of choirs and coal mining.

There’s a certain charm about the Welsh language on record, and though the bulk of albums recorded in Cardiff, Swansea et al have been in English, we have enough examples in the list to keep Max Boyce happy.

Alas, there’s no Bonnie Tyler. 

Super Furry Animals: Radiator (1997) 

The Furries had a gift for catchy yet complex melodic hooks and in the 1990s they were both part of an accessible indie sound, and yet remained detached from the populist post-Britpop scene. The occasional Welsh-language song, the devotion to drug crim Howard Marks, a languid vocal style and clear influences of prog, punk and even the use of techno - this band was clearly on the outer. 

Radiator is an impressive kaleidoscope of sounds, with songs reeking of melody: they borrow from 60s pop but that’s just a fraction of the story. ‘The International Language of Screaming’ and ‘Hermann Loves Pauline’ were loud, fast and eccentric. They shouted the band’s intentions, and I was listening intently.

Manic Street Preachers: Gold Against the Soul (1993) 

For this writer the choice of Manics’ album wasn’t the confrontational bombast of the debut Generation Terrorists, nor the subsequent million-sellers Everything Must Go and This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours. 

While those have everything the band were good at, Gold Against the Soul was the step forward the Manics needed to make to become the band that they became. Pretending to be both The Clash and Guns’N Roses was never going to sustain a career, after all.

Gold contains by far their most rockist singles – ‘From Despair To Where’, ‘La Tristesse Durera’ and ‘Life Becoming A Landslide’. It signalled a move away from bristling teenage arrogance to a bleaker outlook. 

Tom Jones: Talk of the Town (1967) 

You want a superstar? Here’s Cymru’s own. When I obtained this in an op shop in the 90s in Hull, Jones was a faded and jaded legend, so this record was cheap and cheerful and in great condition. And it was brilliant. 

Jones is a live great, and the stage brings out his best as he does inimitable takes on ‘What’s New Pussycat?’, ‘Thunderball’ and ‘It’s Not Unusual’. From the sound of the crowd’s respectful but enthralled reaction (at what was/is The Hippodrome) I’d guess there wasn’t too much underwear landing on stage. 

Gwenno: Y Dydd Olaf (2015) 

Taking its title and subject from a 1950s Welsh language sci-fi novel by Owain Owain, Gwenno uses that book’s themes of working class oppression to mirror the flaws of contemporary society, as well as the plight of her mother tongue.

On its initial, limited release a year earlier, Y Dydd Olaf barely raised an eyebrow. Perhaps few people could believe that a member of what was essentially a girl pop band, The Pipettes, could record an entire album in a Celtic language (with one track being in Cornish for added credibility) and with such grace and ingenuity. 

Anhrefn: Soft Lights and Loud Guitars (1989)

This is the half album, a split record with English punk band Last Rough Cause on the other side.

Anhrefn’s six contributions include an eccentric and excellent version of the Ruts’ ‘Staring at the Rude Boys’, retitled ‘Edrych Ar Y Rude Boys’ and translated into Welsh, and the manic ‘Bach Dy Ben’ (Rock Against The Rich). The Welsh-language punk act were part of Joe Strummer’s infamous Rock Against the Rich tour in 1988 which has previously been covered in detail on this site.

John Cale: Fear (1974) 

Despite his role in the very American underground act, the Velvet Underground, John Davies Cale was born in the Amman Valley to a coal miner and a Welsh language school teacher.

Post-Velvets Cale released three albums during 1974 and 1975, this being the middle, and strongest, of that trilogy. Fear, which features Brian Eno and Phil Manzanera, was a dense and jagged rock album that pointed the way towards punk.

‘Fear Is A Man's Best Friend’, and the eight-minute ‘Gun’ were among the go-to tracks but few would have resisted a snigger at a track entitled ‘The Man Who Couldn’t Afford to Orgy’. Fear brought Cale back to being a British artist. And an influential one too.

Gruff Rhys: Hotel Shampoo (2011) 

It’s not easy picking a single Rhys solo album, so I’m going to select this on the basis that it features a series of small hotel shampoo bottles the singer pilfered from his room. 

We have slow jazz and funk on ‘Patterns Of Power’, and the Beatles at the beach in ‘Honey All Over’, and a series of glorious hooks that take the Super Furry Animals to a Brazilian carnival. 

Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci: Spanish Dance Troupe (1999)

Gorky's sixth album fused psychedelia, country, and 70s pop, revealing how detached they were from the 1990s mainstream music scene. Yes, even more so than the Super Furry Animals. But that was also the case with acts like Topper and Big Leaves. None of these acts cared about Catatonia. 

The wistful instruments on tracks like ‘Don't You Worry’ and ‘She Lives on a Mountain’ are inspired by traditional folk songs and vaudeville tunes. Acoustic interludes are scattered throughout but the standout ‘Poodle Rockin’ is full of noisy guitars and smooth harmonies.

Howl Griff: The Hum (2010)

Little is known about this quartet but they did release three albums between 2008 and 2012, of which the self-titled debut was entirely in Welsh. 

The Hum is the best of those, with ‘Crash and Burn’ a cosmic outpouring of twee pop, sharing a sense of the surreal with The Coral. And, like those scousers, Howl Griff tell stories of characters, such as a lady who “can help you in the dark of night and improve your memory.” Meanwhile, on ‘Uduhudu’, spirits are raised from the dead in a spangly, manic and effervescent shanty. Glorious, bonkers stuff only the British can do, and the Welsh do best.

Young Marble Giants: Colossal Youth (1980) 

The term "less is more" might have been coined for Colossal Youth, the sole contribution by Cardiff three-piece Young Marble Giants. Released at a time when sharp, inverted guitars were de rigeur, it adheres to a minimalistic ideal of sound and attitude. 

Colossal Youth was quickly lumbered in with post-punk, a broad brush that included quirky acts like The Native Hipster who subjected listeners to beautiful minimalism that were the apposite to the abrasiveness of the Gang of Four or PiL. It was both inventive and retro with a pastoral feel. Kurt Cobain was a fan.

Meilyr Jones: 2013 (2016) 

Jones seemed to appear from nowhere for this collection of energetic tracks which narrate the writer’s daily observations and musings on life. It begins with the jubilant ‘How To Recognise A Work Of Art’ and drew on the humour of The Divine Comedy and the slanted views on life of Morrissey.

2013 was full of high-brow references, from Byron to architecture, but with sing-along choruses and musical quirks. Now, about that follow-up album …

Cate Le Bon: Cyrk (2012) 

Sort-of-folkie Cate Le Bon (no relation to Simon it must be assumed), came from left field, much like Meilyr Jones did. She had released an album before, which was barely noticed even in Abergavenny, but Cyrk with its 1969-71 prog-folk-pop outlook, was more playful and irreverent.

She’s released a few albums since, all quite superb, but there’s something mystical and magical about Cyrk that I am happy to keep returning to.

Neon Neon: Praxis Makes Perfect (2013) 

Here’s that man Gruff Rhys again, this time in tow with an artist called Boom Bip and as Neon Neon they delivered another album-biopic by dedicating this to the life of Giangiacomo Feltrinelli, who was both wealthy and political, to the tune of late 80s synth pop.

I actually think Neon Neon’s first album, Stainless Style, which was inspired by automaker John DeLorean, is superior musically, but Praxis Makes Perfect is a more coherent album, and still strangely rewarding in its own way. And besides, you have to tip your hat to an act that creates an entire album around someone few in the UK or any English-speaking language would be familiar with.

Super Furry Animals: Mwng (2000)

Two albums by the Furries, plus two solo efforts by Gruff Rhys. Hmmm, you’d think there was a trend here. And you’re right, but some biases are healthy, and Rhys and co are among the most talented folk to come out of Cymru.

On Mwng (pron: Moong) the Animals rejected their adopted language for a work sung entirely in Welsh. The result is a charming batch of stripped-down rock songs that isn't as inventive as the previous year's Guerrilla, but still makes for a damned enjoyable listen.

Alun Gaffey: self-titled (2016) 

Alun Gaffey’s first, and so far, only solo album is a curious work of pop, electro and Tom Jones’ B-sides.

‘Palutyllau’ introduces the listener to Gaffey’s influences: 70s funk and soul. ‘Yr Arfon’ pounds with early 80s hip hop beats, and new romantic excitement. Sandwiched inbetween those is a track about dinosaurs (either in the literal or the metaphorical sense) ‘Deinasoriaid’. What’s not to like?

Classic Album Review: Bomb The Bass - Clear (1995)

Bomb The Bass is essentially uber-producer Tim Simenon, who is perhaps best known for the sample-infused early techno classic ‘Beat Dis’, which was a massive global dancefloor hit back in 1987. Eight years later, Simenon had evidently moved on from that “smiley face” heyday, and on Clear we find him in a far more contemplative and, dare I say it, a somewhat more mature and sombre mood.

On Clear, Simenon gathers together an eclectic set of luminaries such as Justin Warfield, Bim Sherman, Will Self, Sinead O’Connor, and Benjamin Zephaniah (to name just a few) to produce and mix an assortment of tunes that are for the most part pretty mellow, and certainly slower in tempo than most of his earlier works.

Yet it is also an album very much tinged with a strong political undercurrent, and Clear generally has a more subversive flavour than the lightweight techno/pop crossover stuff that initially championed Simenon’s breakthrough into the mainstream. On Clear we find a far more world-weary Simenon laying down a wide variety of beats and rhythms for his many guest vocalists; some hip hop, a few ambient spacey grooves, but in general, much of this album has a predominantly dub/reggae-lite feel to it.

Aside from one or two tracks that could best be described as ordinary, Clear is consistently good, and it does contain a couple of truly essential cuts - such as Justin Warfield’s outstanding ‘Bug Powder Dust’ (the first single off the album, subsequently immortalised by Kruder & Dorfmeister’s excellent “Sessions” remix) and the extraordinary Sinead O’Connor duet with contemporary Beat Poet and part-time revolutionary Benjamin Zephaniah, titled ‘Empire’, which finds her (in fact, both vocalists) in fine voice and unrepentantly prepared to expose her anti-colonialism Irish republican roots for all to marvel at:

"Vampire, you feed on the life of a pure heart/ Vampire, you suck the life of goodness/ Yes Vampire, you feed on the life of a pure heart/ Vampire you suck the life of goodness … from now on I'll call you England."

A fitting album closer, and for me, it just about represents a career highpoint for the divine Ms O’Connor. Even if you don’t buy into the sentiments behind this politically-charged masterpiece, the electro-dub layers lurking beneath the brooding words are still very hard to resist, and I’d even go so far as to say that this track alone is worth the price of the album.

Simenon, O’Connor, and Zephaniah evoke the outright anger and sense of betrayal felt by many of those touched or affected by the so-called “Empire” just perfectly.

But I digress, and I’ll leave it there lest I go off on a rant. On the whole, Clear is an enjoyable and thoroughly listenable body of work. Simenon’s production is excellent throughout, ably assisted in parts by Doug Wimbish and Keith Le Blanc, and this album demonstrates that there was far more to Bomb The Bass/Simenon than dance music, samples, and one-hit wonders.

Strongly recommended.

EP Review: International Badboys Inc. - CCOI (2020)

International Badboys Inc. might well be an all boy band. I don’t really know. That is a very boy band-sounding name after all, conjuring up actual recall of an awful but mercifully short-lived mid 90s UK-based boy band called Bad Boys Inc. These guys sound nothing like a boy band.

Bandcamp informs me that International Badboys Inc. is a band – or possibly a solo artist – from Seoul, South Korea, the home of that much-loved global pop phenomenon known as K-Pop. These guys (or guy, even) sound nothing like a K-Pop band either.

What I can tell you for certain, is that this 7-track mini-album, CCOI, released in March of this year in digital form on Bandcamp only (as a name your price), is well worth your time if you’re a fan, as I am, of coldwave, lightweight goth, or 80s-flecked post-punk. Seven short sharp bursts of aural pleasure. Stripped back to tight drum/bass and Cure-esque guitar.

I especially love some of the humour on offer – on tracks like ‘Refrigerator Breeding Project’, and on the hilarious opening track ‘Elementary Loser’, which is based on the premise of a 20-year-old repeating second grade for 15 years because of a crush on a teacher … “you’re just not trying hard enough” … second grade for life!

Stream or pick up a download here:

Classic Album Review: Junior Murvin - Muggers in the Street (1984)

We welcome back the bard of Montrose, as Craig Stephen explores a lost Jamaican “gem” for our classic album files …

Seven years after The Clash picked up on Junior Murvin’s stunning ‘Police and Thieves’ for their debut album, turning it into a worldwide anthem, could Murvin now be dismissed as a one-hit wonder? Not a chance. 

While lacking the apocalyptic dread of the 1977 album, also called Police and Thieves, Murvin’s Muggers in the Street is an overlooked gem at a time when roots reggae was somewhat unfashionable in Jamaica following Bob Marley’s death and the popularity of dancehall. 

On what was only Murvin’s third album in seven years he was backed by the Roots Radics Band and produced by Henry ‘Junjo’ Lawes, who was considered to be one of dancehall’s most successful producers. 

But that doesn’t mean Murvin had radically changed his style in line with the day’s fad. Muggers in the Street is ostensibly a reggae album in the mould of the great 70s Jamaican workings, including Police and Thieves.

There is a link to that particular work in the title track which is little more than a reworking of ‘Police and Thieves’ the single. It’s not clear why Murvin redid this, there was nothing wrong with the original after all, and the lyrics on the original were far more potent. So, where we once had “Police and thieves in the streets (oh yeah)/ Fighting the nation with their guns and ammunition/ From genesis to revelation, yeah/ The next generation will be hear me”, we now have: “Muggers in the street/ Rob everybody that they meet/ In the street where the criminal acts/ They don’t care who they rob.”

The original is about the gang war and police brutality that was rampant in the streets of Kingston in the 70s; the remake appears to concerned only with the muggers as criminals, and not part of a rotten state that fed the criminality.

There’s no harm in it being included, in fact I would proffer that at least a couple of tracks on the second side could have been cut loose ahead of any others. 

All of the wholesome meals are on the first half, and the standout is undoubtedly ‘Strikes and Demonstrations’, a cutting diatribe on the failed economic policy of the times: “Worldwide crisis is at large/ At home and abroad.” Murvin doesn’t necessarily support such actions, he just feels it’s a consequence of a world that doesn’t care anymore.

In 1984 Murvin fretted about his personal safety, imploring the working classes to ‘Stop the Crime’ and ‘Think Twice’ about their actions. Sensible advice, perhaps, but it’s doubtful if the poor would be moved by a record when the landlord is threatening eviction. 

If it sounds like too much doom and gloom then there’s time for upbeat moments with ‘Jamaican Girls’ (“Jamaican girls are really nice/ Jamaican girls are sugar and spice”) and ‘Champagne and Wine’ (“I’ve got the money/you’ve got the time/C’mon let’s drink champagne and wine”) with the latter definitely signalling that the roots-heavy feel of a few years previous was now out the window, as the influence of Lawes began to show. 

Murvin would continue recording until about 2007 (died 2013), but that period included only four studio albums. Of those, Apartheid, released two years after Muggers in the Street, shows a devotion to exposing injustice. 

Muggers in the Street was recently given a vinyl reissue; it can only be hoped that Police and Thieves and Apartheid are given the same treatment soon. 

Album Review: The Orb - Abolition of the Royal Familia (2020)

The Orb keep on keeping on. Keep on delivering. Perhaps more than any other 90s electronic dance music pioneer. Not always without some level of sonic compromise, but always ensuring the quality control filter remains sufficiently high.

Collaborators and co-conspirators, both within and outside of the project’s inner sanctum, have come and gone, but key man Alex Paterson has been one constant throughout the project’s 30-year-plus evolution. 

Paterson’s capacity for fruitful collaboration is again to the fore on this latest Orb release, and along with current primary partner in crime, Michael Rendall, Abolition of the Royal Familia features heavyweight contributions from electronic scene veterans like Steve Hillage, Roger Eno (Brian’s bro), Youth, David Harrow, Gaudi, and most notably on ‘Daze’, vocalist Andy Caine. 

The music itself is an expansive journey into disco, deep house, Floydian ambience, dub, and sampling. There’s politics, humour, plus hybrid themes of a post-apocalyptic nature, including on-point use of Jello Biafra’s spoken word ‘Message From Our Sponsor’ on the particularly poignant closer, ‘Slave Till U Die No Matter What U Buy’. 

All tracks have relatively long-winded “remix” tags in their respective titles, presumably to help differentiate them, eventually, from any yet-to-be-released alternative mixes that may or may not be destined to follow. But they’re all brand new tracks, and simply calling each “the original mix” is hardly very Orb-like is it? 

More generally, Abolition of the Royal Familia captures the essence of Paterson’s long-held commitment to a cross pollination of dance music styles, and it’s a no-skip listen from start to finish. Pretty much everything you’d expect from a new Orb album in 2020. 

Aside from the aforementioned tracks, both of which are doozies, my own favourites here are the dubbier numbers, ‘Say Cheese’, and the “too blessed to be stressed” mix of ‘Ital Orb’.