Multi-instrumentalist Eric Loveland Heath, better known as E.L. Heath, is a songwriter from the borderlands of Shropshire and Powys. Founder of Plenty Wenlock Records, member of Wayside and Woodland Recordings and occasionally affiliated with epic45, he has six album and many singles and EPs under his belt, mostly linked to the nature surrounding him, the Shropshire countryside and its quiet villages. Back in 2013 his Welsh language psychedelic pop album Tŷ was named album of the week on both BBC Radio Cymru and BBC Radio Foyle. His return to Wayside and Woodland is called Cambrian, a collection of songs inspired by the scenic Cambrian Coast Railway line (Llinell y Cambrian). The route has been a constant though much of Heath’s life, often ferrying him to and from the seaside or hearing the sound of its trains crossing the other side of the valley from his home. Through the years Heath observed how its route leaves the narrow valleys of mid-wales and sweeps out onto the seemingly endless curve of Cardigan Bay, or watched the paling lights of its trains melt into the horizon from the platforms of rural stations. Heath had planned initially to write about the experiences of journeying on it, the lives of the people who live along its reach. The trains which operate on this route, the soon to be retired Class 158 DMUs, have been a steady and unchanging presence throughout his adult life. A sound and sight so familiar to him and many others will soon be just a memory.

What He Says: “As travel became restricted across 2020-2021, my thoughts turned to the coastline itself and the railway’s perilous nature, where entire sections of its route are often flooded or entirely washed away.The sense of loss was amplified by the plight of the village of Fairbourne, whose station lies along its route. A seaside resort constructed on land reclaimed from the sea, the area was considered ‘unsustainable to defend’ from the rising tides, with the village itself due to be decommissioned by the middle of the century. By then, every pipe, brick and remnant of human inhabitation would have to be removed. The site returned once again to the salt marsh. For the current residents, their properties could now be worthless, homes whose futures can only be measured in the short-term“.

“I was struck by the term used in this case – to “decommission” a village – such an impersonal, dispassionate word, one we would use to describe industries and public utilities, not people’s houses or communities. The effects of our changing climate on costal erosion, and the loss of close-knit communities to second homes and rentals became overriding themes for the EP, along with the ever present threat of the waves, viewed from the windows of trains which will no longer pass this way“

His Mixtape: “My latest E.L. Heath EP ‘Cambrian’ is out 7th June on Wayside & Woodland, however pre-orders have been selling well, so it’s great to be able to lift the curtain a little into the music that influenced it. It’s my first such release for some 6 years, so some things have changed and others have stayed the same:

Casino Versus Japan – Buried

I first become aware of Erik Kowalski’s music a few years ago, on the recommendation of a friend. In that time the sprawling ‘Hitori + Kaiso 1998-2001’ has become a firm favourite – a companion on long car journeys or gentle canal walks. Beautiful, melancholic and often sparse, the whole (double) album is best listened to as a whole, with album opener ‘Buried’ being particularly special.

It’s Immaterial – New Brighton

I’ve been listening to the The Blue Nile quite a lot recently, especially their album ‘Hats’. However ‘Song’ by Liverpool’s ‘It’s Immaterial’, which whom they shared a producer, far from sits in its shadow. From the delicate strains of ‘New Brighton’ through to ‘Your Voice’, it’s a beautiful, endlessly considered collection. One sorely deserving of a reissue. A few weeks ago I took a trip on the ‘Borderlands Line’ between Wrexham and Bidston on the Wirral peninsula, stopping a stone’s throw from New Brighton itself. There I stood on a station platform between a motorway and a patch of overgrown wasteland ripe with blooms. The journey and its terminus matching John Campbell’s sombre descriptions sublimely.

Junkboy – Witch of the Watery Depths

The music of Mik and Rich Hanscomb has been circling my orbit for a fair while, well before they started on what has become a trilogy of psychogeographic albums with 2014’s ‘Sovereign Sky’. Last year’s ‘Littoral States’ (on Wayside and & Woodland Recordings) quickly became a favourite, with Hannah Lewis’ keening vocals joining the brothers Hanscomb’s familiar mix of Robert Kirby-esq string arrangements and folk-tinged acoustic guitar rhythms. As I was sketching out the songs which eventually became ‘Cambrian’, I found the coastal references of their music seeping into my own.
Wildly different landscapes of course, but ultimately still comprised of rock, sand and sea, held in ever delicate balance.

C Duncan –  Like You Do

Duncan’s music had somewhat passed me by, until a chance listen to 2016’s ‘The Midnight Sun’ a year or so back. Sometimes you just want some blissful, melancholy dream pop, and this is exactly that.

Ochre –  REM Sleep Research

I was searching through a hard drive a few years back and found a folder quite simply called ‘Ochre’. Somewhat intrigued, I got listening. I often find that I listen to quite a lot of electronic music when I’m writing something more song-based, it’s a sort of palate-cleanser and allows the songs to sit on their own. However, of course, little bits and pieces seep in, and keep it interesting.

Olive –  You’re Not Alone (Radio Edit)

Still one of my favourite 90s tracks, even after all these years. There’s something about that ducking, off-phrase string melody which endures, seeming so ahead of its time. Also extra credit to them for going fully in and calling their debut album ‘Extra Virgin’.

The Balloonist – Above the Town

Since Ben started his ‘Balloonist’ project, it’s been a fascinating listen. 2022’s eponymous debut was a lovely surprise, arriving perfectly formed, bound in a green paper booklet filled with aerial photography, the tracks a warm mix of fuzzed out ambience and ’70s psychedelia. The recently released ‘A Quiet Day’ takes a step further, soundtracking the peculiar atmosphere of a day spent off school in the 1980s in the UK. Ben has outdone himself here, mixing ECM label ambient jazz with more muscular and experimental arrangements. A concept fully realised.

Bjork –  An Echo, a Stain

Sometimes you just need to lie down, headphones on, darkened room, just cocooned in music. Few pieces of music move me as much as this one does.

Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci –  Stood on Gold

Any mix referencing the Welsh coastline wouldn’t be complete without a song by Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci, whose albums (and lyrics in particular) capture the peculiar atmosphere of the coastal villages along it at low season, once all the tourists have headed home. I agonised over which song of theirs to include, as Euros Child’s vocals immediately bring to mind visions of shuttered up ice cream stands and lonely windswept beaches, and of summer romances severed by the harsh reality of distance. But ‘Stood on Gold’ won through, with the sweetest chorus you could ever hope to hear.
If I write one as good, I’ll probably just stop there.

The Divine Comedy –  The Certainty of Chance

I’ve loved The Divine Comedy since my early twenties. I mean, like everyone else, I was aware of the insanely catchy single National Express, but it took until I’d listened to the album Fin de Sicle in full before it all made sense. Neil Hannon is a musical chameleon, one moment soundtracking the Irish sitcom Father Ted, the next writing huge sprawling orchestral pieces about wanting to move to Sweden. For many years the middle eight from his song In Pursuit of Happiness formed the theme to the British technology magazine show Tomorrow’s World. His albums often mix the absolutely shameless with the downright bizarre, but this song in particular, nicely rounds up his various tendencies. Hannon’s lyrics often mix social commentary with acutely pithy observations on wealth and greed, and the first verse Cambrian is written from a similar perspective: A well to do family decries the blatant unfairness of their lot, upon learning that their coastal holiday home now has a somewhat more immediate ‘sea view’. After all, the salt sea takes its toll.

Cambrian is out tomorrow, June 7th on Wayside & Woodland Recordings. Look HERE for more information on E.L. Heath.