On the Horizon: 'r Cymraeg gwrthsafiad am Camden Crawl.

Stereotypes of Stereophonics-obsessed Mondeo men, daffodil face paint and sheep shagging are tiring at the best of times. Such monotony is aggravated if you actually happen to be Welsh, as you get it from the very first day you're spat into the schooling system like dejected chewing gum lying sultrily on the pavements of Swansea's suburbs. Musically, some rather wonderful cult stars have been born of that jutty bit just west of Bristol. Where, oh where would we/ MOJO be without the likes of Gruff Rhys, Nicky Wire and of course, Bryn Terfel. And the ubiquitous drizzle that shrouds the skies of South Wales incessantly just eased off slightly, with a gaggle of teething Welsh tykes teetering on the brink of potential recognition outside of the caverns of the Cardiff Barfly. Hopefully... For certain though, is that Huw Stephens is wheeling them all along to next month's Camden Crawl in a cart drawn by Stuart Cable and Charlotte Church for a rather special Swn showcase. So without further ado...

Who? Race Horses
What? Punchy, ridiculously instant quartet yo-yoing between vintage organ dementia and space-age shoegaze. Occasionally incoherent.
Why? With Gruff Rhys' Super Furry Animals bordering on extinction, their breed of barking harmony requires recreation.
Joining the dots between: Super Furry Animals, Golden Silvers, John Cale, Blur.


Who? Y Niwl 
What? Surf sounds from the rocky outlooks of Snowdonia. Almost quite literally otherworldly.
Why? Translated as The Mist, not so much murky as Ennio Morricone surfing into the Gower necking absinthe, landing headfirst in immaculate sandcastles replicating Mount Snowdon. And that could never possibly be scribed into bad books...
Joining the dots between: Hemstad, Ennio Morricone, Murder By Death, Martin Denny.


Who? Right Hand Left Hand 
What? Brash, brutal Cardiff duo about as well connected in the capital as Kruger.
Why? Experimenting on finding the threshold for "how heavy is too heavy", Right Hand Left Hand thrust about viscerally, belting out faded melodies enveloped in gunky grunge, before wiping themselves down and blurting out trembling tremolo guitar solos.
Joining the dots between: And So I Watch You From Afar, Liars, Errors, sanity evaporating.


Who? Yr Ods 
What? Sumptuously tender melancholy that'd have Los Campesinos! wailing like Noel Edmonds following another one penny round, delivered in a wilting Cocker-esque drawl.
Why? If you've never had your heart broken, Yr Ods commit it to vinyl so succinctly you'll have a vague idea of what to expect when it comes around.
Joining the dots between: Human League, Camera Obscura, love melting, The United States of America.

Cymru am byth!