“I’m not saying I’m not a careerist,” Bill Ryder-Jones told NME in 2019. “Where I am now is good; a little more success would be great but any more than that would be too much.”
At that time, the Wirral singer-songwriter (and co-founder of his former band the Coral) was talking up ‘Yawny Yawn’, a skeletal, piano-led reworking of ‘Yawn’, the grunge-inspired collection he’d released the previous year. For Ryder-Jones, ‘talking up’ meant speaking with stunning honesty that mirrored the nakedness of the songs themselves. It’s an approach that’s endeared him to an army of loyal fans, while perhaps also contributing to the fact that his cult fame has never quite become widespread renown.
Maybe that’s about to change. Ambitious, cinematic and hugely affecting, folky follow-up ‘Iechyd Da’ is in many ways the album Ryder-Jones has threatened to make since 2013 breakthrough ‘A Bad Wind Blows in my Heart’. His solo work has almost always been deeply personal, which is certainly true of this new self-produced record: ‘iechyd da’ is a Welsh toast to ‘good health’ and the album is partly named for his familial roots in the country. Its songs echo with references to his past tunes, its acoustic aesthetic is set to ‘wistful’ and the lyrics find him baring all with apparent fearlessness.
There’s some irony in that last point, given that tracks such as ‘Thankfully for Anthony’ and ‘It’s Today Again’ relay his frightening mental health struggles. The former, though – a sequel to his 2013 track ‘Anthony & Owen’ – celebrates its titular character’s kindness and the latter features a ragged children’s choir whose evident lust for life is infectious. Standout ‘If Tomorrow Starts Without Me’, meanwhile, sums up the battered optimism at the heart of ‘Iechyd Da’. Underpinned by muted strings and a warm, rolling organ refrain, it’s at once melancholic and uplifting; a windswept relation of Belle and Sebastian’s ‘The Boy with the Arab Strap’. “If the monsters call you names, then I’m with you,” Ryder-Jones croaks. “I’ve had monsters play games with me too.”
The kids crop up throughout ‘Iechyd Da’, a joyous counterpoint to the album’s heavy themes, while the singer uses samples (see eerie opener ‘I Know That It’s Like This (Baby)’, which borrows Brazilian singer Gal Costa’s ‘Baby’) as a further breath of fresh air. He might not be the steeliest careerist, but the lad from the Wirral has clearly thrown everything at this masterful record.
