Softness and quiet lie at the heart of Portland-based folk artist Haley Heynderickx's music, but fans know to find enormous beauty in the small, intentional flourishes; lush orchestral arrangements are flanked by sparse acoustic tracks, Heynderickx's voice shifting from a warm, mesmerizing warble to a strained whine, lyrical storytelling that's both vulnerable and wise.
Like the great folk singers before her, Heynderickx's music centres on poetic introspection. Her words are profound, at times stark, juxtaposed with the comforting, tender quality of her sound. Her 2018 debut, I Need to Start a Garden, showcased her lyrical prowess through songs like "The Bug Collector." Six years later comes Seed of a Seed, and it's a revelation.
The 10-track album largely reflects on Heynderickx's relationship with nature and herself, creating the feeling of a solitary walk through an unfamiliar but beautiful forest. Some songs feel like being nestled beside a campfire with friends, warmth flickering across your face; others evoke the cold, sharp shock of dipping toes into frigid water. Tracks like "Mouth of a Flower" and "Ayan's Song" feel like dappled sunlight on a quiet afternoon, while "Redwood (Anxious God)" captures the jolt of an early winter morning.
In its more sordid moments, Seed of a Seed feels darkly whimsical and philosophical, with tender homages to loved ones ("Jerry's Song"), personal reflections on aging and trauma ("Sorry Fahey"), and finding joy in simplicity ("Mouth of a Flower). On "Swoop," Heynderickx considers the layered meaning of place, ancestry and artistry. And on "Gemini," she's at odds with the modern world:
"There's a woman in the corner claiming she is just the former one of me / And I am here just out of context / And this weight that I've been leaning and the persons I'm deceiving / And the food that I've been eating says I'm processed," she sings in a rising, frantic cadence, later adding, "And there's a woman in the corner / Who makes me pull the fuck over / Just to stare at purple clover off the highway / And see the clover as a gift / A gift I almost missed / You know I finally begin to feel better."
Here, Heynderickx contemplates what makes a place, and even our existence, worth celebrating — perhaps it's the simple act of being present.
Sonically, the semi-hypnotic quality of her music complements this lyrical richness, lending the album a depth that feels rare and substantial. Warm brass and understated percussion add layers of nostalgia and serenity, creating an experience that's as grounding as it is mesmerizing. Her voice, captivating and crystalline, commands attention.
Seed of a Seed gives fans the stunning folk vocals and intricate guitar work they've come to expect from Haley Heynderickx while gently defying conventions set in I Need to Start a Garden. It's an album best enjoyed outdoors with a seasonably appropriate drink and box of tissues nearby.