Wren Hinds
Don’t Die in the Bundu
Bella Union
21 July 2023

The title of Wren Hinds‘s new album, Don’t Die in the Bundu, may be difficult to understand if you don’t know South African dialects. Bundu is a term for a wilderness region. We all reside in the wilds from time to time; sometimes, the bundu is physical, sometimes metaphorical. Hinds has lived in both, recording his new collection in a timber cabin in the South Peninsula mountains, 40 miles outside of Cape Town.
The music and the messages have been shaped by experience, some good, some bad, all worth remembering. His son was born in the same timber cabin where the album was recorded, where Hinds also had a head-to-head encounter with a Golden Cobra. During the photo shoot for the album, he and his photographer were held up at gunpoint by two bandits who forced them into the freezing Cape winter ocean waters. That he remains positive is a testament to the force of fatherhood, understanding that all we have to hold on to is hope.
Caught between the hypnotic guitar and whisper vocals of Restless Child is a man dealing with a world gone crazy. There were riots in Durban not far from his home, he would ride past politicized graffiti, and in the midst of Covid, he saw people locked away for taking a walk on the beach. Despite all that, the song is basically a father talking to his unborn son, trying to prepare him to make the best of every situation. Joys and sorrows will abound, and one needs to be prepared for those moments.
There is something to the feel of A Song that reminds me of Son of Town Hall’s album, building slowly yet in every moment feeling important and not to be forgotten. So much of the album seems to distil a similar feel, unfamiliar but totally comfortable. At the end of the day, there seems to be a positive vibe that comes from being a new father, “Now that I’m a father, I’d rather live in hope than in fear.”
Hope is certainly needed these days, and Hinds finds it in what lies ahead. There is something inherently beautiful about a newborn; they are undefined by past notions. It is all about what lies ahead. The grace in the music and the subtle touches of shading bring these songs to life, unfurling slowly like the waltz of time.
Wren Hinds frames the moments he sings about with the skill of someone who knows how to construct a house, never using more than he needs, crafting phrases and sounds with skill and gentleness. There seems to be no wasted effort on Don’t Die in the Bundu. He has found the elusive charms that charge this disc with timeless beauty.
