On the cover of Haley Heynderickx’s sophomore album Seed of a Seed, she is not the photo’s subject. Instead, an immense California red fir commands our attention, starkly outlined against rays of sun, illuminated like an angel descending from the heavens. The tree dwarfs Heynderickx, who stands, hands folded, small and off-center, almost blending in with the foliage that envelopes her lower half. As the cover suggests, Seed of a Seed finds Heynderickx in a profoundly humble mood, reflecting on a world at once much larger and much smaller than her own.
In contrast to I Need to Start a Garden, her debut album in which Heynderickx found solace from loneliness and stagnancy in our tenacious will to cultivate beauty and live life, Heynderickx takes a step back on Seed of a Seed, reminding us that the world has plenty of beauty to offer us on its own.
She pays tribute to her predecessors on “Sorry Fahey,” a reference to acoustic guitarist John Fahey, ostensibly a significant musical influence inspiring her technical but elegant bluegrass-y fingerpicked melodies. On the title track, she admits a bittersweet sympathy for her parents and grandparents, who didn’t know better but nevertheless tried, just as Heynderickx does today.
In daily life, Heyderickx slows down, zooms in, and pauses in perfect and complete moments. Meaning is found in “a glass of wine / and if I’m lucky, maybe a hand next to mine” on the title track, and on “Sorry Fahey,” she reminds us of the beauty in “the old coastline / and the kettle making you tea.” But appreciating that beauty requires intentionality. On “Gemini,” Heynderickx’s younger self has to urge her to pull the car over for a purple clover, to see it “as a gift / a gift I almost missed”. As she repeats on the final track, “Swoop,” “There’s an artistry in the day-to-day-to-day-to-day.” Often, Heynderickx finds reprieve in a natural world which she gives its own agency and wisdom. She quietly observes a tenacious hummingbird with its precious nectar on “Mouth of a Flower,” and opines on “Redwoods (Anxious God)” that she’d “do anything to hear the redwoods talk.”
Heynderickx’s guitar compositions often convey a soothing lullaby-like quality, as in the ebbing waterfall of notes on “Jerry’s Song”, and her instrumentals are punctuated by subtle but powerful backing. A low cello grounds more than a few songs, and horns swell in the climax of “Spit in the Sink.” Her vocals are light and playful, ornamented with twists and turns, evoking a knowing glance and a wistful smile.
Against what Henderickx describes as a “consumer flood” vying for our time and attention, Seed of a Seed is a breath of stillness, a plea to get out of your own head, to look for gifts in the day-to-day, and to let moments thoroughly consume you.
