Last month, Cape Town-based singer-songwriter Wren Hinds released his new album, Don’t Die in the Bundu via Bella Union. In his review for Folk Radio, Bob Fish concluded his album review: “He has found the elusive charms that charge this disc with timeless beauty.”
From the album notes:
A gleaming set of gently dappled and poetic songs about fatherhood and fortitude, the album roots its restrained strength in an innate understanding of what matters most to us.
Wren’s own life began on the South-east coast of Kwazulu-Natal, South Africa. His father was a musician, his mother a landscape painter. While his dad inspired Wren to record whenever and wherever he could, his mother’s artform coloured his approach to songwriting: “painting with sound” is Wren’s description, a methodology illustrated by his use of light, shade and space to communicate powerful impressions and feelings.
Recorded at a timber cabin in the South Peninsula mountainside, about 40km outside of Cape Town, Don’t Die in the Bundu is at once a natural evolution from his earlier work…, a fresh start and a statement of commitment, embedded in its title. Drawn from “a few personal experiences,” says Wren, the inspiration for the title helps pinpoint its purpose. “It was inspired by a very old survival book distributed in South Africa and Zimbabwe. I had a few title options I was playing with, and around July 2022 a friend and I were held up at gunpoint in Cape Town. Fortunately we weren’t harmed or anything, but the whole ordeal helped me to settle on the title.”
Meanwhile, parenthood helped crystallise Wren’s perspective on the trials of our times. “I try not to be too pessimistic about the future, especially now that I have a kid. It forces me to look at the beauty in humanity and the mysterious nature of this place we call home. I guess, like everyone else, I’m often trying to figure out how it all fits together, and how we fit into this story… Now that I’m a father, I’d rather live in hope than in fear.” Richly subtle, deeply inquisitive, Don’t Die in the Bundu illustrates Wren’s preference beautifully.
Below, Wren Hinds takes us through his album track-by-track:
Track by Track: Don’t Die in the Bundu
A Song – The opening track, essentially an invocation to the album ‘Don’t Die in the Bundu’. This was the year of great change in my life, the year I’d be stepping into the role of a father and embarking upon the journey of fatherhood for the first time in my life. It seems to me that the underlying theme of this album brings into focus a new chapter of life in all its shapes and forms, whatever it may be, and a new journey through the nuances of life, both light and dark. ‘A Song’ was one of those few first tracks written for the album and one of those rare frontrunners that stuck it out and actually made it onto the record.
Wild Eyes – Intuition is something I am ever so grateful to have in my life. As far as I can remember, this very particular feeling comes over me when faced with a potentially life-changing situation, whether ominous or propitious; this feeling will usually creep up on me minutes or hours before. ‘Wild Eyes’ deals with the ominous or darker side of this intuitive knowing; when someone or something or perhaps a situation just doesn’t feel right, it usually isn’t, and intuition is your only ally, giving you a moment’s notice to act on this feeling.
(On the flip side of this coin, one winter’s evening at my Cape Town cottage, I was simply watching my cat going absolutely bonkers around midnight, her pupils dilated and primal as ever, and I lovingly called out to her – “Wild Eyes!” – Thanks to her for giving me the chorus this song needed).
Father – ‘Father’ came to fruition during the civil unrest that unfolded in my home town in July of 2021. I was far from home during the uprising, and I was thinking about my dad at home with all this madness unfolding around him. I wrote it as a sort of letter to him. Words can’t really describe the feelings and emotions that conjure up when your loved ones are in a perilous situation, and you are miles and miles away from all of it.
Chasing the River – One of the greatest adventures unfolds as a character journeys across worlds to find his or her lover, whether literally or figuratively. Life is short, and the bonds we make are some of the most significant and meaningful experiences in this world.
A Wasted Love – I grew up in a small coastal holiday town which, over the years, just kind of decayed and the infrastructure of the town just started deteriorating, which also meant less tourists (which suited me fine)- on the opposite side of the spectrum, I now live in a place where holidays are a crowded affair, traffic is at a near standstill almost every day in peak season, and the song is almost a nostalgic longing for those quiet, empty beaches and slow drives down a ghostly mountain pass, or a friendly wave at your neighbour as opposed to the all-encompassing, consumer-driven holiday seasons we have today.
Restless Child – With my baby boy due in just a few months, I witnessed his movement and adventurous spirit through the spectacular motions and ripples playing out on his mother’s belly. And at the same time, out in the world, we were, and still are, faced with immense political and social challenges. ‘Restless Child’ is basically a father speaking to his unborn child and is a song that carries the message of being present in every situation, of being ready to face whatever joys or challenges present themselves.
Dream State – I’m fascinated and enchanted by the dream world; it’s a subject I love to touch on from time to time, and ‘Dream State’ pretty much came out of a dream experience I had in which I was being thrown around by a tumultuous, playful ocean along an intense rocky coastline. The beauty about a song or poem is that it’s always relative to the listener’s situation and is always open to interpretation through the listener’s experiences, so in this regard, I try to remind myself of this whenever I’m in a writing mode and try not to fill in too many of the blanks.
The Garden – I think it’s so important to sit down and chat with an elderly person, whether sitting on a bench or waiting for a train. Ask questions, find out about their lives and the lives of their parents or grandparents. I know that old people often feel ignored or alone, and I’d hate to feel that way one day when I’m a grandfather. I’m often fascinated and saddened at the idea of our elders, grandparents, their grandparents leaving this mortal plane, and I wonder who, if anyone, will be passing down information or knowledge to the next generation or if we’ll all be looking to Google for the answers.
Gilded by the Sun, Silvered by the Moon – The original poem was written by my uncle and collaborator Keith Erasmus; it has an old-world nostalgia. I’d say it’s a song centred around the journey of life, of love and experience, a journey from the time of conception to the moment of departure.
Razor Wing – At our birth cabin in the Cape Peninsula mountains of Glencairn, we await the arrival of River. In the midst of the intensive southeaster winds and the disorientating daylight hours, the mood was almost biblical and psychedelic at the same time. Razor Wing is a song about birth, the personality taking birth, as well as the ones who are here, ready, waiting to welcome this being into the world.
Order ‘Don’t Die in the Bundu via Bandcamp
Upcoming Dates
Sep 06 Selective Live, Cape Town, South Africa
Sep 18 Blacks Club, London, UK