Heddlu Releases ”Cantref”

Building off of a tension that is more or less one of the most significant elements of the sonic makeup of the album, “The Not Knowing” perhaps encapsulates the eclecticism of Heddlu’s Cantref better than any other song does. There’s a sense of uncertainty sewn into the tempo of this track, and yet there’s never a feeling of dread as Heddlu approaches different junctures of the composition – much as it is in “Locker” and “Rest,” as well.

This is a scenario in which the creator’s most ambitious notions are made comfortable by the openness of the aesthetics, and compared to a lot of other similarly surreal offerings hitting record store shelves this summer, I think that was Heddlu’s Cantref is made of definitely stands as one of the more inventive and immersive listens of its kind – at least for what’s debuting at the moment. Unlike the competition, this is the first album we’ve heard from this project, but much of the hesitation associated with a virgin outing is wholly missing from the tracklist of this record. Instead of trying to fit in with the model, this is an act that is pushing forward and earning quite a bit of cred in the process.

“Cantref Gwaelod” and “Reset” flirt with a lot of the same compositional themes, but there’s really nothing on this LP that doesn’t owe something to the tone outlined in “Descensionist,” the opening song on the record. Heddlu doesn’t mind showing us some of the zanier elements of the master plan within this rookie release, but there’s still something about the framework of “Auto-Da-Fe” and “SMS” that suggests even more experimental avenues to be traveled down in the future. There’s a lot of angst waiting to come undone beneath the weight of the material in Cantref, but it’s not necessarily something this artist is ready to explore just yet. After all, there is such a thing as biting off more than you can chew, but this never winds up being an issue across these eleven songs (thanks to the discipline of their star performer).

For being a one-man project, the intensity with which Heddlu is able to offer us songs like “(Ar)Nofio,” “The Not Knowing,” “Mouth Goes Dry,” and “Daw Eto Haul” is something to marvel at, and I’m hoping to hear more of it from this act in the future. There’s still a lot on the table that isn’t being experimented with, as previously noted, but for what I want out of a left-field debut, this really is about as good as it gets. Cantref is a witty release that doesn’t have a hard time settling into its own skin, as I’ve encountered in a lot of records dropping this month, and if it’s giving us just a glimpse into who Heddlu is going to become as a permanent, long-term musical project, we should anticipate hearing even more creative content out of this camp a lot sooner than later. In the meantime, this is the right LP to satisfy alternative tastes this summer.

Trace Whittaker