Hendrika On Her New EP, Folk Fusion And Genre Exploration
Yukon singer-songwriter Hendrika, (Selina Heyligers-Hare) is undergoing a metamorphosis; shedding a cocoon spun from sorrow, to re-engage with the world, armed with new wisdom and fresh energy. She says her sense of renewal reaches deep inside, into the creative, existential and professional parts of herself.
Her latest release – a five-song EP entitled I Can’t Remember – is the artistic expression of turning the page on a dark period. It is a reflection on some bad years, giving voice to events she didn’t have the strength to process or share at the time. Moving on from grief is woven into the fabric of the album.
“I was blocked for a long time, and it was definitely about depression,” she said, referring to her mid-20s. “I didn’t feel connected to anyone, I just felt so isolated.”
Now, still only 27, she has gained the life experience and perspective needed to keep her demons at bay; once again drawing on music for strength and inspiration.
“All of my songs are really personal, really emotional to me. Every time I play is a cathartic experience.”
The music leans heavily into the folk genre, but the songs frequently shift gears mid-stream. Hendrika draws inspiration from many sources, and the album is greatly enriched by a diversity of styles. There is an original sound here, created by blurring the lines that traditionally keep musical genres from straying outside their own cages.
But it is Hendrika’s voice that carries the album, displaying an impressive range, both in scale and delivery. She has a rare ability to infuse the lyrics with an emotional context beyond what words alone can provide. Her inflection unlocks the subtext and nuance within the script; her voice provides the spice that turns tomatoes into salsa.
Hendrika says she was born to be an artist. Looking at her history, one could say she was born, bred, baked and boiled in music. Her parents owned a music store; she started lessons at five, sang in her mother’s bluegrass band at 12; her teenage rebellion was starting a rock band; and she has performed, written, played, sung, and studied ever since.
She laughs when asked which category to use when describing her music.
“Sometimes I say folk fusion,” she tried, but added she chose not to fit in. “I did that intentionally, I try not to put myself in a box. I just want to be who I am, I don’t want to limit myself.”
The album’s track “You’ve Got Gold” best illustrates the theme of transformation and Hendrika’s talent for genre-bending. The story actually changed in the time it took to write it. What began as a love song was released into the world as a bittersweet reminisce, a reflection on good times now past. The soundtrack adapted, in life and music, moving through genres to end the journey with a pop rock finale.
“I wrote the opening guitar riff, but I couldn’t find a way to weave a melody into it. That riff is almost soul,” she said. “The lyrics I started writing separately. At the time I was with someone; we had a really intense connection.”
The song is her favourite to perform, and she thinks it’s the one most people connect with. As a side note, she says ending the relationship was the right thing to do, but still hurt a great deal.
Which is actually germane, because of what it reveals about the artist and her work. Hendrika shares from the deepest parts of herself; her thoughts and feelings come unvarnished, her emotions are processed raw and in the open.
The price of such authenticity, she discovered, comes when pain and grief leave you nothing to share and drives you into isolation, hiding yourself from the world. It all caved in when she found herself dealing with multiple tragedies, which were compounded by the deaths of both of her parents. She lost her support system, her self-confidence and her connection to the world. She was 22 years old.
The title track, “I Can’t Remember” explores, in a somewhat grim fashion, this period when she was trapped under the weight of her grief. It was too heavy to shift, leaving her unable to write or perform for several dark years.
I can’t remember what it is to really smile
I Can’t Remember, 2024
It’s a mask, another accessory, that’s been in place for a while
“I wrote that song on a really hard day,” she said. “I don’t always feel that way. It comes in waves. You have to accept, learn to work with it.”
Facing her own issues brought a greater self-awareness, which led her to being able to also face the world again.
“I have grown a lot, for sure, but I still feel like I have a lot of growing to do. I work on those parts of myself that are hurt. It still takes a lot of me talking myself through things.”
The album chronicles her journey through her period of adversity and all of the songs but one were written within the last two years. That one hails from an earlier time and brings a different energy altogether.
“Reel Me In” owes more to Led Zeppelin than Lead Belly, a song that simply rocks and makes no apologies. The song is a refreshing change of pace, and a chance to show off a different set of chops. But it languished in a drawer for years after it was written.
“I was like 18 years old when I wrote it, I didn’t like it at the time. I was really hard on myself,” she said. “I started playing it again after college. The other band members liked it.”
Hendrika grew to like it as well – enough to include in this collection, which she considers the culmination of her life to date. It is a synthesis that brings together the years devoted to her craft with the wisdom gained on her journey back to the light.
This album is not for everybody. It is as personal as a diary, so if the emotional journey of a young woman holds no appeal, you might give it a pass. The arrangements feature three musicians, and despite the stylistic innovation, it is rooted in the folk tradition, which may be a factor to consider.
This album was a personal milestone for Hendrika; her heart and soul resonate from the speakers at the same volume as the keyboard and guitar. But there is still the reviewer’s obligation to give a critical assessment.
Does it get a thumbs up?
Classical music is judged by the level of technical execution and how well it integrates an array of complex elements. Folk succeeds when it connects to the heart.
I Can’t Remember is, as noted above, unvarnished. It could stand a little sanding in places. But it delivers where it counts, and despite an eclectic mix of styles, there is, after all, one sound that defines this work.
That clanging you are hearing – echoing loud and clean – is, in fact, the ring of authenticity.
