Chris Otepka’s vocals hurt and hurt deep. With a voice that churns out exhausted disillusionment like it was his second language, every track he writes easily takes on a dimension of quiet desperation without breaking a sweat. With his latest one-man, indie folk project The Heligoats, Otepka’s vocals still retain that cautious draw that can sound weathered, irritated and composed simultaneously, nearly falling off the edge of reason in the midst of a world that runs on contradiction. Like the know-it-all-but-don’t-give-a-shit kid in the back of the class undermining the clueless teacher with every quiet correction he makes under his breath, Otepka isn’t looking to illuminate some grand revelation, he’s just trying not to sink deeper into the abyss. All of this is done with the bouncing passion of the best folk acts, efficiently turning spiritual poverty into poetry.

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