Barry Cawley (Y Cyrff) – 1963 – 2000

 

Barry Cawley, former guitarist with Llanrwst post-punk band Y Cyrff has been killed when he was cycling near Betws-y-Coed.
The 37 year old, rose to prominence with Y Cyrff as they plotted their way to Welsh stardom with their Clash-like stance and prolific recorded output.
After the band split up he went behind the scenes and worked with Catatonia for more than 10 years as a roadie.
Catatonia guitarist Mark Roberts said: “Cerys [Matthews] is really distraught. Everyone has treated her like a queen – but not Barry. He treated her like a real person. He would tell her something like: ‘Get your own drink.’ She appreciated that – he kept her feet on the ground.”

He worked with the band from their days playing tiny clubs until they hit the charts with hits such as Road Rage and Mulder and Scully.

“He went to 16 countries with us last year. He was very talented but just as a ruthlessly ambitious as the rest of us,” said Mark Roberts.
His girlfriend, nurse Meryl Harrison, said: “Barry knew Tom Jones and was close to Cerys – but he would never show off about any of it. He would never brag about what he’s done or who he’d met. It’s awful. We were planning to have children and we were soulmates,” she said.

Mr Cawley will be buried on Monday in his trademark Levi jeans and denim jacket.

Review: Dial M for Merthyr

 

The Welsh music scene has been bubbling away for a while now, and Dial M for Merthyr, released this month through Fierce Panda in association with Townhill Records, attempts to bottle that momentum in one ambitious compilation. Spanning 21 tracks from a mix of rising hopefuls and already-established names, it’s both a sampler and a statement: Wales is producing guitar bands at an impressive rate, and this record wants to prove it. Well, OK South Wales (we don't up here unless you're Melys).

The compilation feels less like a carefully polished “best of” and more like a snapshot of a scene still finding its shape. There’s a certain rough-and-ready energy running through the record—what one might fairly call a dose of guitar-led lunacy from bands that are still young, still experimenting, and still eager to be heard. That looseness works in the album’s favour. Instead of a tidy narrative, the listener gets a burst of regional creativity that feels immediate and alive.

Part of the attraction is the presence of bands already making serious waves beyond Wales. Tracks from Manic Street Preachers, Stereophonics, and Catatonia lend the compilation a sense of credibility and draw, but they’re only part of the story. Alongside them are artists such as 60ft Dolls, Helen Love, and Dub War, bands whose sounds range from brash indie-pop to heavier alternative rock. That contrast between the familiar and the lesser-known gives the record its real purpose: discovery.

The Manics’ early contribution “Strip It Down” will inevitably draw attention, but it’s the variety across the compilation that keeps things interesting. There are bursts of jangly pop, flashes of punkish aggression, and plenty of straightforward guitar-driven indie rock. Rather than presenting a single “Welsh sound,” the album reveals just how diverse the country’s music scene has become.

What Dial M for Merthyr ultimately captures is a moment. Wales—hardly the largest music-producing nation in Britain—is suddenly turning out a remarkable number of bands capable of attracting national attention. This compilation brings them together in one place, not as a definitive collection but as evidence of a thriving local movement that seems to be gathering speed.

Like most compilations, it’s uneven in places, and not every track demands repeated listening. But that’s almost beside the point. Dial M for Merthyr works best as a document of a scene in motion: scrappy, ambitious, and bursting with potential.

For anyone curious about where the next wave of British guitar music might be coming from, this record makes a strong case for looking west.