Seattle has a penchant for producing genre-defining bands. A casual perusal of its previous cultural representatives is enough to solidify the city’s reputation as the American epicentre of musical experimentation. And now with the release of their sophomore effort Helplessness Blues, folk revivalists Fleet Foxes find themselves in the company of icons such as Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden as the new kids in town.

Recorded in the same studio that gave the world Bleach, Helplessness Blues is a marked departure from the band’s previously crystalline sound. With a gestation period of nearly three years, the album showcases a more contemplative and refined style, which reflects the tumultuous road taken to get to this point. Bedouin Dress sees the return of the band’s trademark folk sound, replete with brush-stroked drums and sonorous lap-steel guitar slurs. A particularly memorable violin refrain envelopes the main vocal line, capturing subtly-nuanced notes in its enamouring melody.
 

Delivered in a romantically-detached tone, Bedouin Dress serves as a pleasant albeit ephemeral transition into the album’s more introspective moments. The song represents the band’s fleeting flirtation with the sunnier side of their west coast sound before their subsequent descent into the depths of the all-too important second album.

The spaced-out atmospherics of Battery Kinzie serve as the perfect soundtrack to a sixties road movie, rolling merrily towards an undetermined destination in the far corner of the listener’s imagination. The intricate, yet understated, syncopation between the drum beat and vocal melody provides Pecknold’s lyrics with a sense of urgency and vitality; painting a picture of an illusory journey. At first glance, the track presents an image of simplicity; reproducing the folk formula to such an authentic level that the song almost moves beyond realm of mimicry. Subsequent plays reveal previously unnoticed harmonies and counterpoints between instruments that elevate the song to the status of art.
 

Numerous tracks on the album awaken a feeling of the uncanny in their audience that hints at the underlying complexity of their composition. The true value of the album manifests from this tension between the initial image and the elusive inner workings of the collection. Compound track The Plains/Bitter Dancer opens with a repetitious loop, combining ambient background music with somnolent ritualistic chanting. The drone subsides at the two minute mark with the return of a definitive song structure and Pecknold’s impressionistic lines. 

Helplessness Blues serves as the album’s ambassador, capturing the underlying themes and symbolism espoused throughout the collection. An invigorating country rhythm sets the tone for the harmonised witticisms of the frontman, creating a track that seems simplistic on the surface and yet indefinably profound in its sentiments. With lyrics that ruminate over the conflict between individuality and communality, Pecknold’s incendiary imagery converts philosophical questions into visual metaphors that strike a chord in the very soul of the listener: “Now after some thinking I’d say I’d rather be a functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me”.

The short digressions that fill the spaces of the album highlight the band’s capacity to venture outside of their comfort zone. Ephemeral instrumental The Cascades is virtuosic in its instrumentation; fiery chord voicings form the foundations, while the dulcet tones of a harp provide a profound counterpoint in the higher registers. The saintly soliquoy Someone you’d admire showcases Pecknold’s ability as a solo singer/songwriter, with the sombre subject matter benefitting from the sparse arrangement.

The haunting composite track The Shrine/The Argument could easily have been the crescendo to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. The strained vocals of the refrain draw you to the very precipice of despair before retreating to the more optimistic chorus. The psychedelic middle-eight section seems like a natural sequel to For the Benefit of Mr. Kite and features a freakish jazz solo that grates purposefully against the melodic backdrop. Labyrthine in theme and tone, the ceaseless shifts between joy and melancholy emphasise the tension embedded in the lyrics; mimicking the chaotic inner world of a schizophrenic.
 

The current popularity of Folk Revivalist outfits seems but a fleeting reaction to the polished, over-produced commodities saturating the modern market. Like every cultural fad, groups groping for a coveted place on the bandwagon must bear the burden of having a shelf life; an impending expiry date already preparing a space for them in the annals of history. And while the inevitable collapse will certainly have its causalities, a chosen few will surpass the expectation of the critics and claim their seat among the legends of popular culture.

Helplessness Blues is that definitive move towards immortality; a triumphant entrance into the inner sanctum, reserved for albums like Sound of Silence and Highway 61 Revisited. While setting the bar at an unprecedented height for their third album, Helplessness Blues places Fleet Foxes above the often unforgiving hand of fate. A Contemporary Classic.

9/10
John Ryan