Ladies and Gentlemen (and other denominations), welcome to the freakzone world of Crinc… I’m inviting you because they probably won’t. They’re probably not aware of you; or even themselves. Crinc are an enigma, insomuch that they operate on their own terms.
I think they’re from Bangor, or a small self-declared enclave nearby, and would love to imagine they hoof all kinds of powders up their hooters (including Vim), and spend the whole of October harvesting those little mushrooms that God so kindly blesses the fields of North Wales with.
Crinc, like the translated name suggests are an oddity. Are they just a bunch of funked up students taking the piss out of themselves, their mates and all and sundry? Or are they on a mission to change the face of rock ‘n’ roll? I hope it’s both, and ‘Cig Cymreig’ [Welsh Meat] slipped out virtually unannounced late last month courtesy of their own Recordiau Noddfa label. Almost as if they didn’t want you to notice.
I saw Crinc perform on the fringe at the recent National Eisteddfod, witnessing a rag-tag ensemble of kids with appalling taste in clothing and a twattish on-stage persona. This is right up my street and the set that night stuck in my head. In the here-and-now, that set has been honed and put to record (well… Spotify) and immediately jumps out at you as ‘not normal’ – it’s Welsh Republican Soviet Minimalist Punk Neo-Rave Post Mod Environmentally Toxic Industrial (their words, not mine). The garage door is open and roof is leaking; inside the band are knocking out classics with their Argos catalogue guitars. Their parents were fans of The Jesus & Mary Chain, Spaceman 3 and Primal Scream, they also had an interesting medicine cabinet that the band have taken full advantage of…
Every song is potential classic, from the Public Service Broadcasting style opener, Nythu that runs into the recent single PPC, a song (I think, is about plastic Welsh punks?) that chunders along with infectious qualities. The rebel rousing Pydru [Decay] features guest ranting from Lolfa Binc / Anxiolytics voice-piece, Rhys Trimble, and is probably my second highlight behind the eminent and belting track, Crachach [Scab]. This masterpiece uses Aneurin Bevan’s House Of Commons speech against the UK’s invasion of Egypt in the 1950’s Suez Canal Crisis. Cig Cymreig concludes with the hypnotic stomper Revolution, rounding off a thrilling half hour.
Get yourself some Welsh meat with this crackling album.