Goldie Lookin' Chain

Newport, South Wales’s premier hip-hop raponteurs GLC return with a sweet sixteen (and 1/2 ) track long-player chock full of missives concerning subscription TV, fowl broth (metaphorically), past-rave anthems, Liverpool F.C.s continuing inability to win the league, high-way codes and yes, the peaches of herb. Brace yourself for Fear of a Welsh Planet.

Inspired by a mind-meeting match-up with Daisy Power players De La Soul in 2015 (incidental details subsequently forgotten) this tribute to the principality’s aim for global dominance can be read as a manifesto for mankind, a guidebook to betterment and the kickstarter of creativity.

The title track reels off a litany of Welsh cultural totems (Joe Calzaghe, Glengetty tea, Windsor Davies, Caerphilly cheese) reminding the rest of the UK and beyond that when it comes to icons, the Welsh can (and do).

The sleek and Chic influenced disco-funkin’ ‘I got a van’ is a celebration to the freedom a transit offers, from parking up to driving in, a lay-by is simply that.

‘Bonk Eye’ is a defence of the optic realm, as a lazy eye gives off the wrong perception, misunderstandings running amok. The song has a smoove-segue in the vein of Oran ‘Juice’ Jones’s seminal turned-tableism revenge classic of a dish best served cuckold ‘The Rain’.

‘It’s the law of the streets’ pays homage to Prince’s funky guitar with the crew dispensing hardy advice concerning the rules of the road, the dos and the don’t’ s when you’re at the wheel (no booze, no smoke, no calls, no joke). To wit: No green when you’re crossing the road, man.

Phat ace of bass pervades ‘Netflix in bed’ which highlights the modern pastime of binge-watching boxsets where a night in the sack has a new meaning, darling. It’s not me, it’s ‘you got the remote?’

‘Six feet tall’ is a eulogy to self-exiled colleague and Big Brother bemusee Maggot, the band declaring it as poignant as Pink Floyd’s Syd Barrett opus ‘Wish you were here’. Ball’s in your court, ya lazy diamond.

Ignoring the haters and critics who sniff and sneer, this West Coast posse deliver another knock-out collection. As mission statements go this is a foreboding sign of the times.