Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues

It’s hard to know where to place Fleet Foxes in 2011. Since their platinum-selling eponymous debut charted in the top 10 on both sides of the Atlantic three years ago, a lot has changed. Internationally, ‘The Suburbs’ raised the profile of Arcade Fire while in the UK the Topshop stylings of Mumford & Sons has seen the Londoners emerge as one of the biggest acts in recent years.

While it would be unfair to suggest that Seattle’s Fleet Foxes were ever chasing either of these monikers, fans of ‘White Winter Hymnal’ and ‘Mykonos’ would be forgiven for leaning on these bands while waiting for ‘Helplessness Blues’ to drop. So, with that in mind, what happens now? This is more than just a supremely strong follow-up. The band’s loyal fan base will not be disappointed as Robin Pecknold once again belies his 25 years.

‘Battery Kinzie’ and the title track are the fantastic singles being used to draw in the rubberneckers, but the most rewarding listens are ‘The Plains/Bitter Dancer’ and the standout moment ‘Lorelai’.

Their trademark harmonies are used again - at times haunting, at times heart-warming - and wash over you, often before realising what has just happened; but this is also the album’s biggest problem. The undeniably lovely quality of Fleet Foxes means that they are impossible to dislike, but in their quest to earnestly out do their competitors - which they have done - they have left no room for human error and, at times, sound a little bit too well oiled; almost mathematically formulated.

It is not too much of a stretch to imagine ‘Helplessness Blues’ soundtracking the long, hazy summer days of Pecknold’s youth, discussing the merits of Neil Young and Bob Dylan, but maybe some part of this impression of a distant and, sadly non-existent, ‘America’ has been lost in translation. It seems ludicrous to fault a band for being too ‘good’, but they have, however, now put themselves in an unenviable position where so much is, and will now always be, expected of them.