Emyr Glyn Williams from Ynys Môn, who died from cancer in January when only 57, was a pivotal figure in the cultural life of Wales for more than three decades. In particular, his importance to the extraordinary blossoming of Welsh music in the late 20th century cannot be overstated.

In 1988, along with fellow Aberystwyth University students Alun Llwyd and Gruffudd Jones, Williams formed the Ankst record label to provide a platform for the largely unknown and ignored treasure-trove of music emerging from the underground Welsh-language scene. From Ankst’s first release, a cassette of Ni Cystal a Nhw (We’re as Good as Them) by idiosyncratic singer-songwriter Neil Rosser of Swansea, the label never strayed from its principles of low-budget, non-commercial originality and eclecticism. Following a policy of signing no two acts that sounded the same, and making a complete break from the cobwebbed conservatism of the music authorised by the straight-laced Welsh establishment, Ankst quickly became an indispensable and prolific conveyor belt of a cutting-edge, kaleidoscopic range of talent, the very epitome of an independent label and a defining symbol of Welsh radicalism, unorthodoxy and uniqueness.

The list of performers championed by Ankst, with Emyr Williams their impeccably tasteful and knowledgeable guiding light, is astounding. Here’s a random miscellany of just a few: uncompromising experimenters Datblygu featuring the cracked crooning and scathing poetry of Emyr’s great friend David R Edwards (1965-2021); punk melodists Y Cyrff, who evolved into Catatonia; the pure-pop songcraft of Ffa Coffi Pawb, who became the audaciously brilliant Super Furry Animals; the polished harmonies of Beganifs; the disco/house fusion of Diffiniad; techno-explorers Tŷ Gwydr; the hypnotic dub of Llwybr Llaethog; agit-rappers Tystion; the weird lounge-core of Rheinallt H Rowlands, a project of Owain ‘Oz’ Wright (1970-2005) who was killed on a country lane by a car going too fast; the genre-busting innovations of MC Mabon; the ramshackle reggae of Geraint Jarman; the exquisite psychedelic folk of Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci; sonic improvisers Ectogram; the far-out sombreness of David Wrench, now an in-demand ace mixer, engineer and producer; soulful songsmith Edwin R Stevens; the spaced-out pop of Topper, revolving around the delightful vocals of actor Dyfrig Evans (1979-2022); beguiling neo-prog marvels Zabrinski…hey! I could go on and on, but that would be a book not a blog – I’ll stop at the letter ‘Z’…

What Emyr Williams did with Ankst and its subsequent incarnation Ankstmusic transcended music. He helped reinvent and expand the possibilities of Welshness itself and revealed an alternative Wales that wasn’t defined, constrained, shaped or possessed by England/Britain – while always remaining modest and amiable, thoughtful and funny, acutely perceptive and effortlessly cool. After the early years of Ankst in Aberystwyth and then Cardiff, co-founders Alun Llwyd and Gruffudd Jones concentrated on the management while Emyr, no mean musician himself, dealt with the musical side of the label from his home in Pentraeth, Ynys Môn, right through to his death.

He also brought his exuberance and intelligence to another art form by branching out into film and helping to establish a Welsh-specific cinematic sensibility and strengthen the foundations of the always-fragile Welsh film industry. He won awards for his bilingual movie Y Lleill (The Others), made hosts of music videos, created a lauded documentary Nobody Knows if It Ever Happened about German band Faust, and charted the thrilling renaissance of Welsh music that he lived through with the superb, and now historic, documentary films Crymi 1 and Crymi 2. What’s more, he ran the cinema at the Pontio Arts Centre in Bangor (opened 2015) and was deeply involved with the WOW (Wales One World) Film Festival, inaugurated in 2001 and still going strong.

Whether Ankstmusic continues largely depends on the wishes of his wife, the poet Fiona Cameron, and two children. Whatever happens, the outstanding contribution to Welsh culture and self-confidence made by ‘Emyr Ankst’, as he was universally known, will be unsurpassable. In an era dominated by the demands of the unelected tech billionaires of corporate America, an era of computer-corrected vocals, auto-tune, AI, lip-syncing, algorithms, artificiality, fakery and derivative, choreographed, commercial crap performed by cosmetically enhanced bimbos, it is more important than ever that his manifestation and enabling of truly independent, authentic, meaningful musicianship inspires future generations of Welsh nonconformists to follow in his footsteps. Diolch yn fawr iawn, Em, da boch chi.