Whitchurch and Llandaff Living Issue 70

culture International Velvet Wales has always been a l<strong>and</strong> of song but back in the 1990s, the country rode the crest of a musical wave that shook the world By Neil Collins ‘Every day when I wake up, I thank the Lord I’m Welsh…’ There’s no song that epitomises 1990s Wales quite like Catatonia’s ‘International Velvet’. Yet at the start of the decade, such a lyric was inconceivable. Back then, Cymru was anything but cool. Tom Jones, Shirley Bassey, Shakin’ Stevens, <strong>and</strong> Bonnie Tyler may have been mega-selling pop acts, but what did Wales have to offer the alternative music fan? Within a few short years though, an explosion of b<strong>and</strong>s including Manic Street Preachers, Super Furry Animals, Stereophonics, Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci, 60 Ft. Dolls, Feeder, <strong>and</strong> of course, Catatonia, erupted from this quaint l<strong>and</strong> of harps <strong>and</strong> choirs. By its release in 1998, their album (also named) International Velvet not only topped the UK charts, but cast a jealous eye from across the world onto Wales. 34 No longer the butt of music press jokes, this new generation of Welsh talent was releasing No. 1 records <strong>and</strong> celebrating with huge gigs. Simultaneously, stars like Catherine Zeta-Jones, Rhys Ifans, Colin Jackson, <strong>and</strong> Joe Calzaghe were becoming household names. This rise in Welsh celebrity coincided with an increasing pride <strong>and</strong> respect for Cymraeg following the Welsh Language Act 1993, which put Welsh on an equal footing to English. Plus, Wales was now ready to begin governing itself. After the devastating defeats of the past, devolution was achieved with a ‘Yes’ vote at the 1997 referendum along with the creation of a National Assembly for Wales two years later. The chorus of ‘International Velvet’ typifies that seismic shift in the nation’s confidence – a feel-good factor encapsulating music, culture, sport, language, <strong>and</strong> politics. The incredible success of Welsh music in the second half of the ’90s was unprecedented, but it was the groundwork spanning the previous ten years that made it all possible. Bubbling away under the surface in the early ’90s was an intriguing Welsh-language scene, which led to the formation of not only two of Britain’s best b<strong>and</strong>s of the era, but also two of the greatest Welsh acts of all time: Super Furry Animals <strong>and</strong> Catatonia. Each group was lambasted for making the decision to go big <strong>and</strong> sing in English, but both defied their critics while still embracing their bilingualism. By the millennium, the Super Furries released Mwng – the biggest-selling Welsh-language album of all time – while Catatonia’s song ‘International Velvet’ captured the best of both worlds. Its verses are delivered in Welsh before the euphoric, Englishlanguage chorus tells the world how proud they are of their national identity. The transition was

complete once crowds from across the border belted back the words with the same vigour. The Guardian wrote: ‘It’s hard to decide which is the more improbable – a hall full of Londoners claiming to be Welsh, or a Welsh b<strong>and</strong> inspiring such loyalty.’ What is often lost in translation is its irony. It’s highly unlikely that Catatonia thanked the Lord they were Welsh on a daily basis, but now a b<strong>and</strong> was happy with wearing its Welshness on its sleeve. As Cerys Matthews told the Daily Record: ‘Hopefully, by now people realise that Wales is brimmed full of talent <strong>and</strong> we’re great people with massive brains.’ Obviously, its chorus can be easily latched onto <strong>and</strong> enjoyed on a superficial level. Yet, it’s so over the top, how can it be viewed as anything other than ironic? Addressing narrow-minded views of the Welsh, the song’s opening line depicts stereotypes of a small, oppressed nation that has little to offer other than its skill for singing: ‘Deffrwch Cymry cysglyd, Gwlad y Gan’ (‘Wake up, sleepy Wales, L<strong>and</strong> of Song’). It then continues with more overtly ironic jabs at Welsh cultural clichés <strong>and</strong> its history as a defeated nation. Therefore, the verses portray the decades of doubt Wales suffered, while Cerys’s triumphant howl in the chorus embodies the rebirth of a country at last comfortable in its own skin. When asked by Melody Maker if the song could become the new Welsh national anthem, Mark Roberts replied: ‘Probably not. The melody’s too difficult to have them singing in the streets at closing time.’ In ‘Blerwytirhwng?’ The Place of Welsh Pop Music, Sarah Hill said: 'Catatonia intend to play in the mainstream culture, but on their own terms – they do not intend to conform to the British notion of what Welshness is, <strong>and</strong> their bilingualism is a statement of fact which needs no justification. That is ‘English’, but not quite.’ If ‘International Velvet’ wasn’t the national anthem, it was certainly emblematic of a modernised, progressive Wales at the end of the twentieth century, <strong>and</strong> its influence resonated in three key performances in 1999. At Port Talbot’s Margam Park in late May, over 30,000 screaming fans boomed out the chorus as one with as much gusto as a massed Welsh choir. Cerys confessed she Author photo: Catherine Sharples wept while singing it. The Margam Park performance of the song illustrated how much it had connected with the public. Days before though, there had been an overblown rendition that stripped away its irony <strong>and</strong> saw it delve into pantomime. On Wednesday, 26 May 1999, the Welsh Assembly was officially inaugurated with the Voices of a Nation concert. Top of the organisers’ list were Catatonia to sing a certain song to celebrate the occasion. If only the b<strong>and</strong> weren’t so busy with preparations for their Home Internationals gigs in Llangollen. Instead, they granted the BBC permission for a stellar cast to perform their anthem. Enter stageleft Tom Jones, Shakin’ Stevens, Max Boyce, Bonnie Tyler, Charlotte Church, <strong>and</strong> Mike Peters et al. belting it out to a confused live audience, who couldn’t hear over fireworks. A song that was penned as a cheeky jibe had achieved its aim. As one unimpressed journalist wrote: ‘The live TV concert to celebrate the opening of the Welsh Assembly was an unmitigated disaster… “International Velvet” should’ve been a rousing all-star finale, but instead it was unbelievably embarrassing for Wales.’ Regardless, ‘International Velvet’ was the perfect song to promote Wales on the world stage <strong>and</strong> it was everywhere from soundtracking sporting montages to being referenced by academics as personifying the transition in postreferendum optimism. This buoyant mood was perpetuated by the Rugby World Cup, which was hosted in Wales in 1999. The state-of-the-art Millennium Stadium was the ideal new home for Graham Henry’s exciting squad after a mid-decade period in the doldrums. Soon to be labelled ‘The Great Redeemer’, Henry masterminded a 29–19 victory over South Africa to open the venue on 26 June 1999. Three months later, Catatonia were requested to start the Rugby World Cup opening ceremony. Forget the Top 5 singles ‘Mulder <strong>and</strong> Scully’ <strong>and</strong> ‘Road Rage’; it was ‘International Velvet’ – an album track – that the organisers wanted to be part of a diverse ceremony celebrating the nation’s past, present, <strong>and</strong> future. With a huge banner declaring ‘Croeso i Gymru’ (‘Welcome to Wales’), Cerys strutted onstage <strong>and</strong> unveiled a Welsh rugby shirt matched with sequins <strong>and</strong> sparkly eyeliner. Introducing Catatonia, presenter Alan Wilkins said: ‘This is a momentous day in sporting history as the magnificent new Millennium Stadium in Cardiff hosts the opening ceremony of the fourth Rugby World Cup. ‘A new spirit in Wales, a new vibrancy, a new energy, a country acclaimed as the ‘L<strong>and</strong> of Song’. The Welsh love to perform <strong>and</strong> no one more so than Catatonia, who kick us off with their massive hit, ‘International Velvet’. Young, Welsh talent taking Wales into the new century.’ With Manic Millennium providing an epic finale to the decade a couple of months later, the fascinating story of Wales in the ’90s is a mind-blowing journey of growth <strong>and</strong> confidence that continues to inspire the country’s vibrant music scene today. Wales was a nation finally off its knees, <strong>and</strong> st<strong>and</strong>ing proudly. If it was a movie plot, it would all seem so far-fetched. Thankfully, it was all true. International Velvet: How Wales Conquered the 90s Charts is published 25th July from Calon, University of Wales Press. Featuring fresh analysis <strong>and</strong> new interviews, the book charts how ‘Cool Cymru’ won over the masses <strong>and</strong> shows how it inspired the still-vibrant Welsh music scene into the 21st century <strong>and</strong> beyond. Born <strong>and</strong> bred in <strong>Whitchurch</strong>, the book's author, Neil Collins is a writer, former WalesOnline journalist, <strong>and</strong> co-host of the Welsh Music Podcast. 35