Friday 22 March 2013, 16:20
To my mind, Welsh music is replete with wonders. Show me an artist's impression of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and I'll show you Cate Le Bon's voice, evidence of Gruff Rhys' imagination, Falco's lyrical invention, or the elemental power of the Joy Formidable.
Wax lyrical about the alleged Colossus of Rhodes and I will bore you into submission with the very real and present magnificence of Georgia Ruth's debut album, or Irma Vep's unsettling uniqueness or Ifan Dafydd's panchromatic genius.
We have a multitude of wonders on the doorstep of our ears. I believe this absolutely.
Right up there with all the remarkable that I've listed so far is Angharad Van Risvijk's voice. It's a gift from a crystalline dimension. Where other larynxes reach and sweat in their quest for big, emotive notes, Angharad's voice is just there: effortless, almost weightless. Her vocals give me the same sense of awe that I get watching a bird soar thermals in the empty blue.
It's a voice like light, but it's far from insubstantial. There's a mischief and imagination to her lyrics, to her presence in every one of Trwbador's songs that indicates great intelligence.
This isn't just down to Angharad, of course. Her musical partner Owain could paint a sunset that'd stop your breath with his palette of synths, beats and guitars. This is clever music that doesn't patronise you or tire you with a parade of party tricks.
Safe is Trwbador's new single, a flare fired over the prow in advance of the release of their stunning debut album.
Anything that has echoes of The Knife, Kate Bush and Broadcast, but mostly revels in its own vision and originality, has to be great, right? This is pretty much perfect electronic pop music. At least it would be if pop hadn't been hijacked by dull twits trapped in an ever decreasing vortex of TV bland.
Daring, young and as fresh as that there snowflake on my box bedroom window, there's nothing ancient about this wonder of the Welsh musical world. More than most, Trwbador know their Cheops.