Petrels – Haeligewielle

The one sheet for Petrels – Haeligewielle says the album is comprised of ‘songs of water, songs of stone’. It sounds vague, but in truth that’s all you need to know. To say that Petrels is the solo project of Oliver Barrett of Bleeding Heart Narrative is already saying too much. This, his first solo album, offers up a seriously detailed narrative hinted at with the song titles. Combining post-rock, drone and Americana elements; Haeligewielle pits an all-consuming darkness against the frailest slivers of light to create one of the most immersive listening experiences of 2011 thus far.

In many ways Haeligewielle is an ode to tales of water and stone, but also specifically William Walker, who is mentioned in the title of the albums final song. William Walker (1869-1818) was a British scuba diver famous for shoring up Winchester Cathedral, a task that involved him re-building the foundation of the cathedral while being submerged underwater in total darkness for six hours a day for five years. Also of note: Haeligewielle is an Anglo-Saxon word meaning ‘holy well’.

The album opens with “After Francis Danby”, a reference to the Irish painter of the romantic era whose work oft touched on themes of water and the apocalypse. As for the music, the song opens with the quick fade in of a terse and strained high- pitched sound that could be a guitar but also resembles the howling wind. Instantly, the song takes the listener to some place isolated and dark. The song spends the first half combining restrained melody over a layer of drone, and the second half turns into a sort of rock n roll outro. In one song Petrels gives us a song that feels like both a beginning and an end.

Second song “Silt” comes on strong with what sounds like a chorus line of bowed string and digital flourishes that seem to emulate water. Silt is granular material derived from stone, in this case probably associated with the sediment that darkened Walker’s hours for those long days. A percolating rhythm underneath the track has the quality of bubbling water. Slowly a new melody emerges over top of the drone elements and brings it all together with a new centrifugal force to drive the song. If you were to remove silt from the context of water it has the quality of ash. One can almost picture a world of ash (silt?) when listening to the whole record as it has the quality of something almost post-apocalyptic. It brings together something historical, almost classical, but places it in a context where it feels almost alien. This is the sort of dark and claustrophobic emotional terrain not unfamiliar to listeners of Seasons (Pre-Din).

‘Canute’ likely refers to King Canute, the Danish ruler of England, who was convinced by his people that he was so mighty he could stop the tide from coming in. The story goes that he tried to square off against the tide and nearly drowned. ‘Canute’ the song emerges quietly and quickly provides the densest layer of hissing-throbbing drone the album provides. Seriously: this song is loud. Is this the soundtrack to Canute almost being consumed by the water? It’s dark and sinister, but again Petrels lets a light shine in. It’s a piece that almost hints at an admiration for Canute’s brave naïveté as much as it does tell the story of how his foolishness almost killed him.

“The Statue is Unveiled with the Face of Another” refers to the 1964 incident where a commemorative statue of Walker was unveiled, but due to an error by the artist featured the face of the Cathedral’s engineer rather than Walker. An error the Cathedral tried to keep quiet, thus leading some to believe the face was indeed that of Walker. The song provides the album’s most rustic song, fueled by the sort of Americana found in the work of Aaron Martin. Bowed strings and gently picked guitars take us from the apocalyptic drone of the previous track to a place almost rural and rustic. But is this the future or the past? In a way the piece is reminiscent of William Fowler Collins dusty soundscapes. It’s as if Petrels is giving a musical companion to Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. We’re being ushered into a world that is at once new and also scarily reminiscent of the past.

“Concrete” provides the album’s warmest moment. It introduces the element of human voice, and boy does it ever. The song is a thick chorus of male voices in a style the one sheet describes as ‘workmanlike’. The song has the feel of men singing about the world of labour and the lyrics reflect Walker’s task. Despite its title, the song is decidedly human. Rather than something cold and unmovable, it becomes a song about the fragility of life set against a back drop of work, and as ever, water and stone.

“Winchester Croydon Winchester” provides the album’s most whimsical moment. Loaded with various keyboard phrases layered over one another it has a playful quality. The title refers to William Walker’s hours long commute from his home with family in Croydon to his work in Winchester.

Finally, the album offers up its lengthiest number “William Walker Strengthens the Foundations”. At over 14 minutes in length it brings together all the musical terrain covered in the previous six songs into one solid statement. In the end it adds a darkly industrial almost techno inspired refrain built around a skewed loop that sounds alien even for electronic music.

In a way Walker’s story is an odd one for an electronic musician to take the task of telling, his story is so much about the tension between mankind and nature. Psychically though, the story of a man who works away in total darkness to make some small shred of an impact in the larger world is everybody’s. And maybe that’s what drew Barrett to it. Either way, it was Barrett that picked up the torch and told Walker’s story, and probably it would terrify Walker to hear the sonic equivalent of those claustrophobic hours and years played out so well. The good news for the listener is that Petrels has provided us with what has to be the strongest solo debut from a musician so far in 2011. It’s as if Barrett has launched his solo career as Petrels by giving us his own Sisyphus narrative, and somehow it sounds dreadfully authentic – no small feat. Haeligewielle is an album so dense and immersive you sometimes feel as though you are drowning or being smothered, but that’s exactly the way it’s supposed to feel.

- Brendan Moore for Fluid Radio

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