Photos Courtesy of Erin Kintzer
In a word, Fairhazel’s “God Speed Helena” is meta: as the track’s description on Soundcloud reads, it’s “a song about a man writing this song.” This atypical self-reflexivity undergirds the vivid storytelling ability that distinguishes Fairhazel from a score of indie pop/alt rock artists of great stature.
His August 28 release begins solemnly and immediately, as Fairhazel’s delicate, hushed tone introduces the story’s main character, David. The song’s wistful mood, established by retro mental images like the “family car,” is amplified by the retro sheen of his self-described “old, scratched-up guitar.” Fairhazel’s voice carries substantial agency: as soon as he sings about the tambourine he uses in his songs, it softly materializes in the background.
As somber as the verses are, with the occasional sparkly pings of a xylophone or the gentle whirring of a church organ, the chorus bursts through the musical landscape loudly and brightly, as if another song were being blasted through a speaker altogether. The disconnect between these distinct sections of the song is existentially jarring: in the first upbeat chorus, Fairhazel lovingly remembers Helena as he “travels far,” only to contemplate what he’s doing with his life when he’s interrogated by his family in the following verse. “I know I’ve let you down, but I don’t think I’m coming home again. I think it’s part of a bigger thing,” he laments, right before he jumps back into the chorus, potentially for his own distraction and fleeting comfort.
The persistent blurring of major and minor harmonies, especially with seventh chords inverted to create audibly dissonant intervals, is fitting for a track that evokes such emotional dysfunction. As much as David’s story could just be about his own conflicted feelings, the role of contrasts in “God Speed Helena” (both musically and lyrically) is so viscerally chilling that the song almost seems to represent two completely severed identities. The fact that Fairhazel is able to convey moments of beauty and sublimity in loneliness, confusion, and insecurity is a testament to his unparalleled songwriting.
