Heddlu - Cantref album review

Heddlu is the new project of Ceredigion musician Rhodri Daniel, formerly a member of the band Estrons, which imploded and disbanded a few years ago. After the dust had settled, Rhodri discovered that his hearing was severely damaged, thanks to years of touring on the live circuit.
Diagnosed with hearing loss, tinnitus and severe sensitivity to noise, Rhodri found himself unable to be in the same room as other people, leave the house or play music for almost a year. Then, a chance encounter with a retired record producer, whose forgotten old studio in the Cambrian Mountains was filled with antique synthesizers, inspired Rhodri to consider returning to music.

Taking advice to venture outside to aid his recovery, Rhodri embarked on a three-month hike around the entire 900-mile span of the Wales Coast parth, during which he conceived of this new project and began to write the music in his head, to be recorded upon his return. The word "Heddlu" in Welsh means "police" - literally translating as "peace-force", reflecting the healing power of this music for Rhodri.

Heddlu's debut album, Cantref, which has just been released, is a concept album of sorts. It follows a central character who finds themselves washed down river and castaway at sea, only to descend to the depths of Cambrian Bay to 'Cantref Gwaelod', a mythological sunken city, populated with malevolent long-forgotten spirits. Initially, the protagonist struggles to accept reality, before eventually coming to terms with their fate, and learning to float amongst the ghosts.

This is an old Welsh tale - Cantref Gwaelod (also known as Cantre'r Gwaelod) was said to be a real sunken city off the coast of West Wales, sometimes referred to as a "Welsh Atlantis". The album name - Cantref - is a reference to this myth, but the word 'cantref' is also a medieval Welsh geographical term that was important in Welsh law. It derives from the word 'cant', meaning 'hundred', and describes a small tract of land.

The early Welsh kingdoms would have each been divided into several cantrefs - so they were sort of like a medieval Welsh version of a parish or a small county, in a way, with strong regional distinctions of identity and local community - like dialects, for example.

All this is to say that Heddlu's debut is a record that's very engaged with a sense of geographic space and identity (in a local and personal sense). It feels like a genuine expression of a healing process, of cathartic recovery from trauma, discovering a sense of peace in the landscape. As someone who's experienced my share of traumatic rock-n-roll band breakups, I can relate to Cantref's determination to find hope and a direction in a shattered landscape, but the songs feel open and abstract enough that anyone could find something familiar in them.

What does the record actually sound like? Well, it's a swirling, bilingual synth-rock affair, which doesn't really sound anything like Estrons - a fact that certainly works in its favour. It's mostly a one-man project, with Rhodri mixing all the tracks and playing all instruments except drums, which were contributed by Adam Thomas. It feels fully realised, rather than insular. A dreamy, psychedelic inner journey, full of pop hooks that keep the songs rooted. Rhodri was the guitarist in Estrons, and there are rhythmic guitar textures here, but the synths dominate the record - pulsing, drifting, reaching towards fragments of light, like broken waves on the shore.

At times the songs feel like a classic 70s-esque atmosphere in the vein of Tangerine Dream or Jean Michel-Jarre's Oxygene, but the songcraft on display takes it somewhere different, adjacent to classic Radiohead or Animal Collective. I can imagine Heddlu headlining the Far Out stage at Green Man on a Saturday night.

There's some charming pop tunes here that can feel quite euphoric at times - standout tracks include 'Cantref Gwaelod' and 'Auto-Da-Fe', which both have some great lyrical, melodic hooks that will lodge themselves in your subconscious. 'Daw Eto Haul' is a beautifully optimistic, sunny, psychedelic dance-pop tune that is mesmerising and hopeful by equal turns - the title translates as 'the sun comes again'.

Some of my favourite tracks are the interludes - 'Descensionist' opens the album, sets the scene and draws the listener in, and '(Ar) Nofio' finishes things off. Both are short, instrumental mood pieces and create a powerful, cinematic mood. The latter track has some spoken word samples buried in the mix, so quiet as to be almost inaudible and unintelligible, which adds to the effect, as if the speaker is drowning, buried beneath the flood of history and memory. It sounds like it might be R.S.Thomas, Dylan Thomas, or another Welsh poet, intoning a description of some melancholic Cymric seascape - I quite like the mystery of not being able to tell who it is, though. Cantref is one of my favourite albums I've heard so far in 2022 - a powerful, personal journey that doesn't sound quite like anything else, the sound of a person's soul rising from the ashes. I really recommend giving it a listen.

Tom Emlyn

Cantref is out now on Zawn Records - Stream the album here – https://orcd.co/cantref