Review Summary: Dancing with shadows
Prior to
Iechyd Da, I was familiar with Bill Ryder-Jones through two of his previous efforts: 2013’s
A Bad Wind Blows Through My Heart and 2018’s
Yawn. Both are works of merit, managing to revel in a convincing sad-sack persona, but revealing different sides of the coin: the former with a more bare-bones folk presentation, the latter leaning towards slowcore with bursts of shoegaze. Nonetheless, I’m not
quite sold on either of those records - while each has some incredible highlights, taken as a whole the quality level is a tad uneven, and much of their lesser material runs together.
You wouldn’t go broke betting that Bill Ryder-Jones has maintained that long-standing melancholy feel on his latest, but nonetheless
Iechyd Da feels like a triumphal step forward for the British singer-songwriter. The record’s thirteen songs are not only reliably high-caliber, but the soundscapes are more sweeping and grand than ever, with the musician’s confidence seeming to flow through every note.
The bulk of this album relates old familiar tales of love and loss (more of the second than the first), largely delivered through classic and simple phrases - “
oh, how I loved you”, “
I’m so lost without you”, “
I think about you all the time”, you get the picture. It may sound boring, given those cliche phrases are just that,
cliche, but give Ryder-Jones credit, his worn voice imbues those classic phrases with ample pathos. It should be noted, too, that for a singer-songwriter album, the vocals and lyrics are a touch more obscured than might be standard, with the beautiful arrangements allowing the oft-mournful tales being expounded upon to be more of a cherry-on-top than a main course.
About those arrangements - while one could easily call this record “chamber pop” and leave it at that, there’s actually plenty of variety to be found. “If Tomorrow Starts Without Me”, for example, is undergirded by a backdrop which feels vaguely Celtic folk in origin, while “I Hold Something In My Hand” is stripped-back but jaunty and energetic. Meanwhile, “This Can’t Go On” feels like it was plucked from the soundtrack of some cheesy vintage movie, and “It’s Today Again” finds Ryder-Jones backed by a children’s choir to great effect.
As previously mentioned,
Iechyd Da is the first of the three Bill Ryder-Jones albums I’ve heard which I’m convinced maintains a standard of true excellence throughout its runtime. And this satisfying journey only ascends to a higher plateau when it nears the end, with the impressive run of the last three tracks. “How Beautiful I Am” finds the album at its most gloomy (quite a mean feat), before a lamenting set of “la la la la”s feeds into a concluding cleansing sweep of glorious folk instrumentation. Next up, “Thankfully For Anthony” stands as perhaps the record’s most profound statement. It’s a sad song, no doubt, but a clarifying one permeated with a generous dollop of warmth - “
I’m still lost but I know love” - Ryder-Jones avows as post-rockian grandeur drenches the listener in the vibe. Then there’s “Nos Da”, a short instrumental closer, which, at least to me, extends the relatively positive mood which the album’s final stretch manages to convey.
So, about that album title…
Iechyd Da apparently means “Good Health” in Welsh, according to the all-knowing Google. While you might guess this choice is ironic, given how glum most of this release’s subject matter is, I ultimately don’t think so. As a well-wish to a friend or a passerby, “Good Health” feels inherently archaic and rustic, perfectly suited for the self-consciously old-fashioned style which this album embraces. On
Iechyd Da, Bill Ryder-Jones might still be that grim gentleman his music has always portrayed him as, nostalgic for that which was and may never be again, but this go-round also finds him dispensing a stronger dose of vitality than usual, of hope as well as pain. The end result is the first exceptional album of this young year. Good Health to all!
