The Welsh band produce an eloquent and jovial debut album

Every track from Papur Wal’s debut album Amser Mynd Adra (Time to go home) sounds like it was fun to write and record. I don’t mean the party-hard kind of fun; I am talking about the pleasure of taking your time to play with sounds, rhythm, and words to see what happens. 

They managed to disguise a rich and never banal album as an enticing and smooth listening. Proper slacker popcraft.

The first thing you will notice is that they sing mainly in Welsh, the last track of the album Anifeiliaid Anwes (Fi efo Hi) [Pets (me and her)] being the only exception. They even venture with some Italian verses – very appreciated by yours truly. 

Still, I don’t think you should read the translation to their lyrics — not immediately, at least. Do not miss the rare chance of being led around by music alone. The ticket is worth its value. 

I am a big fan of the lost practice of listening to albums back to back. Have you ever tried? 

I mean only listening, not just having music in your headphones while doing something else like vacuuming (unless you dance like Mrs Doubtfire), or sitting on the tube, imagining how life would be if you married the person sitting in front of you. 

Trust your friend Kosmo: pull the curtains, shut the door, turn off your notifications, lie down on your couch/bed/floor. Choose an album and press play. Of course, not every album lends itself to this practice. Thankfully, Amser Mynd Adra is not every album. 

“Stedda lawr ‘fo fi am funud / anghofia am y byd am funud / a just diffoda bob un nodyn sy’n canu yn dy ben.” (Sit down with me for a minute / forget about the world for a minute / and just turn off every single note that rings inside your head) - Llyn Llawenydd (Happiness Lake)

Intermission: please come back after your first listen.

Welcome back. Thoughts? You must feel quite a cheater if you just ignored the intermission and went on with the review. I forgive you. After all, in the band’s own words:

“Diflannu ‘naeth fy nirmyg/‘na i’n well fory” (My contempt has disappeared / I’ll do better tomorrow.) - Brychni Haul (Freckles)

The Cardiff Trio jumps smoothly from Welsh Bossa Nova – Rhwng Dau Feddwl (in two minds) – to delicate lullabies – Andrea a Fi (Andrea and I) – to bangers that will make you want to learn Welsh just to sing along: Llyn Llawenydd (Happiness Lake). Even within the same song, they can take you by the hand and suddenly turn left, as cleanly as it gets.

Particularly, I find interesting the way Guto (Vocals/Drums) keeps a timid but never shy drumming that guides firmly without taking over. It is not easy to be so assertive while playing so delicately. Well done.

Guto’s work is the perfect foundation for the subtle cleanness of the guitar played by Ianto (Vocals/Guitar) and the brilliant bass lines weaved by Gwion (Vocals/Bass).

They work as a unit of individuals with three distinctive identities going towards the same goal.

The vocals are a bitter-sweet blanket that wraps almost the whole album, with just a few exceptions in Haul Chwefror (February Sun) and Meddwl am Hi (Thinking about Her). I didn’t find the diversion into more aggressive territories to be working as well as the rest of the album; however, these two tracks are the best testimony to Guto’s ability to play hard but not invasively. Besides, if artists only stayed in their comfort zone, we would call them something else, wouldn’t we?

Brychni Haul (Freckles) is the third single from Amser Mynd Adra, released via Libertino Records on 8th October 2021. The single is accompanied by a music video that is very representative of the band’s mood.

The footage was filmed by the band itself and by people around them on an Elmo Super 103t, also used by Jacob Hodges to film the video for Llyn Llawenydd (a personal favourite).

A more colourful and psychedelic approach was chosen by artist Billy Bagilhole & Wubacub for the second single, Arthur. 

That ice cream must have tasted divine.

I personally look forward to seeing them live.

If you do too, go and find them on the 23rd October (today) – at Swansea Fringe. I won’t be able to make it, and this will make me very sad.

For now, I still have a reservoir of happiness from listening to their album.

It is not an easy task of breaking through the language barrier so effectively that when you read the lyrics, you think, “Oh yes, somehow I knew this is what they were talking about!”, and still find yourself delighted by the intriguing writing.

I feel like I can’t really write a comprehensive review yet. Amser Mynd Adra is disclosing further and further in my ears at each listening, but I was so anxious to let you guys know about it that I took a break. Speaking of which, let me pull the curtains, plug my headphones and…