Wales. No, not the big things that float around in the sea, slurping plankton and singing inscrutable songs. The country. Go to London, turn right, and youíre there. Nothing to it. But, please, if you do go to Wales, donít disturb Hwyl Nofio. Heís the one on the hillside with the prepared piano, composing tracks that manage to be both soothing and unsettling in equal measures. Every so often he runs down to a recording studio, dragging his piano with him, bangs out a few tracks, and then disappears without a trace. This latest offering has little to no singing, and absolutely no harp playing, but its easily the best thing to come out of Wales since John Cale. Track it down.
All related articles (interviews, live, from the vault)