Album Review: Côr Eisteddfod Genedlaethol Abergwaun Ar Fro 1986 – Folk That’ll Knock Your Clogs Off
If you’re into music that feels like a warm hug from your grandma but also makes you want to grab a flag and march somewhere, Côr Eisteddfod Genedlaethol Abergwaun Ar Fro 1986 is the album for you. Released in—yep, you guessed it—1986, this Welsh folk gem comes courtesy of Sain Records, bringing together harmonies so rich they could probably butter your toast.
Now, let’s get one thing straight: this isn’t your run-of-the-mill playlist filler. This is the kind of record you put on when you need to feel something deep down in your soul—or maybe just when you’ve had too much tea and need some proper background vibes. The choir (that’s Côr Eisteddfod Genedlaethol, if you’re fancy) delivers tracks steeped in tradition, emotion, and enough choral power to shake the rafters of any chapel worth its salt.
Standout Tracks That Stuck With Me
Let’s start with “Yr Utgorn”, because how can you not love a song whose title sounds like an ancient battle cry? Spoiler alert: it kinda is. It’s all about the horn—the symbolic call to action—and boy, does it deliver. From the first note, the voices swell like waves crashing against rocks. You don’t even need to understand every word; the sheer passion carries you away. By the time the final chord rings out, you’ll be ready to storm a castle or at least bake some bara brith.
Then there’s “Mor Hawddgar Yw Dy Bebyll di,” which roughly translates to “How Gentle Are Thy Breasts”—and no, I’m not making that up. Now before you raise an eyebrow, hear me out. This track takes what could’ve been awkward subject matter and turns it into something utterly beautiful. The melody floats along like mist over Snowdonia, soft yet powerful enough to make you stop scrolling through TikTok mid-binge. Trust me, once those harmonies kick in, you won’t care what language it’s in—you’ll just feel it.
Why This Album Matters
Here’s the deal: Côr Eisteddfod Genedlaethol Abergwaun Ar Fro 1986 isn’t just another dusty relic from the '80s. Sure, it’s got its fair share of nostalgia, but it’s more than that. These songs are alive—they breathe, they roar, they whisper secrets older than Stonehenge itself. Listening to them feels like stepping into a different world, where stories still matter and voices carry truths tech can’t touch.
And here’s the kicker: in today’s chaotic hellscape of auto-tune and TikTok trends, albums like this remind us why we fell in love with music in the first place. They’re raw, real, and unapologetically human. So next time you’re feeling overwhelmed by life’s nonsense, slap this baby on and let the magic do its thing.
Final thought? If aliens ever invade Earth, I reckon playing them this album might convince them to leave us alone. After all, who wouldn’t respect a species capable of creating such hauntingly gorgeous noise?
