Well... almost but not quite - but this little family tree documents the family history of Bangor 'superstars' Fay Ray, who were signed to WEA and had a minor hit with the excellent new wave single Heatwave in 1982.
The family tree (you'll need to zoom in), is a bit hard to decipher as the band names with lettering that's almost a pre-former to all those grindgore bands' logos that no one can read!
However, bands included are Hot Water, Fay Ray, The Menai Straights, Some Noise, Inverted Commas, Distant Cousins, TVI's, Loose Connections, 9½, Brenda & The Hot Dicks, Feet First, Bran, Kelly's Heroes, Red Hot Pokers, Broken Arrow, Weetabix Express, Pushy Pushy Band
Today, Dyfrig Wyn Evans would have celebrated his 47th birthday. Known to many as Dyfrig Topper, he was a much-loved musician, actor, and friend whose creativity left a deep mark on Welsh culture before his untimely passing in May 2022.
Born in Penygroes, Gwynedd, in 1978, Dyfrig grew up surrounded by music and performance. His talent shone from an early age, making his television debut at just 13 in C’mon Midffîld!. He later became a familiar face on S4C, most memorably as Arwel “Ari Stiffs” Jones in Rownd a Rownd, where he spent five years as part of the original cast. Further roles in Talcen Caled, Emyn Roc a Rôl, Tipyn o Stâd, Gwlad yr Astra Gwyn, Darren Drws Nesa, and the acclaimed drama Y Gwyll / Hinterland showed his remarkable range. Friends and colleagues often described him as a naturally instinctive actor, able to bring humour, warmth, and depth to every character he played.
Alongside acting, music was always at the centre of Dyfrig’s life. In the early 1990s, he formed the band Paladr with his brother Iwan and Peter Alan Richardson, before re-emerging as Topper in 1996. With Dyfrig as frontman – lead singer and guitarist – Topper became one of the most distinctive voices in the Welsh psychedelic pop scene. Their releases, including the Arch Noa EP, Something To Tell Her, Non Compos Mentis, and Dolur Gwddw, and led by Dyfrig’s unforgettable voice and presence.they caught the attention of legendary broadcaster John Peel, who invited them to record two Peel Sessions in the late ’90s.
When Topper disbanded in 2001, Dyfrig continued to write and perform, releasing his solo album Idiom in 2006. He remained active as a songwriter, even placing third in Cân i Gymru in 2019 with his track LOL. His creativity never dimmed; he had an instinct for melody and storytelling that resonated with audiences, whether on stage, on screen, or in the studio.
The news of Dyfrig’s passing in May 2022, at just 43 years old, was met with shock and deep sadness across Wales. Tributes poured in: Super Furry Animals’ Gruff Rhys praised his unforgettable “sweet tones,” while comedian Elis James reflected on the golden era of Welsh music that Topper helped to define. Producer David Wrench shared memories of touring and working with him, remembering both his artistry and his friendship. Fans and colleagues alike described him as funny, mischievous, larger-than-life, and above all, a true talent.
Dyfrig Wyn Evans will be remembered as much more than a musician and actor. He was a cultural figure who embodied creativity, humour, and heart. His work lives on through the songs, the performances, and the memories he left behind — and today, on what would have been his 47th birthday, we celebrate the life and legacy of Dyfrig Topper.
Born on 5 August 1953, former Llandudno resident, Glyn Porrino is a seasoned guitarist, composer, and producer whose work has spanned a wide range of rock and melodic styles over several decades. A founding member of Harvest Moon, he quickly became known in the North Wales music scene for his expressive guitar playing and strong songwriting sensibility.
Through the late 1970s and 1980s, Glyn played with bands such as Stepping Stones, White Tygrz, Nightwing, and Manalishi, contributing both as a lead guitarist and co-writer. His ability to move effortlessly between classic rock, progressive influences, and heavier melodic sounds helped shape the musical identity of several North Wales acts.
Porrino sessioned on a European tour with Nightwing and split Harvest Moon in 1984 on his return after a disagreement with keyboardist David Evans. He remained with million seller, six album Nightwing, whose releases include the critically acclaimed ‘Natural Survivors’ (1996).
Today, Glyn continues to perform and record, working with bands like KARAC, and remains active as a producer, programmer, and creative collaborator. His dedication to the craft and enduring presence in the regional music community make him a respected figure in Welsh rock history.
Llwybr Llaethog, the long‑running experimental Welsh-language band from Blaenau Ffestiniog, have been actively subverting genres since 1985. Their music, a heady mix of hip‑hop, dub, punk, reggae, and sharp political commentary, remains one of the most distinctive sounds to come out of Wales.
Back on August 4, 2002, they performed a live session for Adam Walton’s BBC Radio Wales show, a programme known for giving airtime to some of the country’s most innovative underground acts. But unless you happened to catch that particular broadcast, you’re out of luck. That session, like so many others, is now buried deep in the BBC archives. Not available to stream anymore, not on YouTube, not even listed in most session databases.
Whereas a John Peel session holds the reverence it deserves, I find it criminal that these recordings on Adam's show—important cultural documents—are locked away and rotting in obscurity. These aren't just old tapes. They're snapshots of musical history, capturing the raw, (often) live energy of artists at pivotal moments in their careers.
So why can’t we hear them?
Is it a resource issue? A lack of staff or funding to digitize and release them? Or is it purely about copyright control? The BBC typically owns the rights to these sessions, and that ownership may extend to restricting access, possibly even from the artists themselves.
Whatever the reason, it’s frustrating. Personally, I would happily volunteer my time to help digitize and share these sessions, officially or otherwise, if only I could get my hands on them. There are hundreds, possibly thousands, of unique recordings gathering dust while fans, historians, and curious listeners remain locked out.
In a digital age where music discovery is everything, it’s time to open the vault.
