Tresor

Album review

It doesn't get much more unusual than a new album by Gwenno. The Welsh singer, who was formerly in mid-aughts retro novelty group The Pipettes, has recorded her last two records in the Cornish language of Kernewek. Not long ago, only around 200 people spoke it; although in 2018, after the release of the singer's second album, Le Kov, the Cornish Language Board reported a 15 percent increase in the number of students taking Cornish exams. As foreign as it all feels to most of the world, you don't need to know what she's saying to feel the music. Tresor (which loosely translates to "treasure"), Gwenno has said, is about being a mother: figuring out who you are while putting someone else's most basic needs ahead of your own, and how to reclaim your body and desires. The title track, she has explained, is about the contradictions of the feminine appearance and wielding power, which translates to a mod chill and a naive, childlike melody of chiming keys against the song's otherwise decidedly mature and mysterious landscape. On "An Stevel Nowydh," Gwenno's voice floats as gentle as a feather and is interrupted by the odd aggressive slash of chimes—an acting-out of the idea of realizing you're lost in a new place. "Men an Toll" is completely, fascinatingly disorienting, like being locked in an echo chamber. It's an appropriate emotional immersion for a song about Mên-an-Tol, Cornwall's Bronze Age formation of stones believed to aid fertility. "I was inspired by … the eternal nature of these ancient monuments and how they enable us to reflect on our own nature as human beings and on our relationship to the landscape," Gwenno has said, adding that the sound was shaped by "ambient Celtic music, film scores and experimental electronic music." There's a mysterious Celtic druid feel, too, to "Kan Me," while "Ardamm" takes on a sort of goth vibe. As the determined bass steers the way, Gwenno's chant starts to become hypnotic. "Tonnow"—translating to "waves"—truly feels like a slowly shifting tide, pulling and lulling, as her voice flows in like a fog. And while it's intriguing to know that "N.Y.C.A.W." ("Nid yw Cymru ar Werth," or "Wales is not for Sale") is a condemnation of neoliberal thinking and a passiveness toward contemporary capitalism, all you really need is to feel the sinuous rhythm, Gwenno's sexy-cool delivery and the guitar's bright, almost Edge-like singularity. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz