A Farewell Device Drop A Fresh EP

Justin Vanegas has been releasing music under the name A Farewell Device for years now, but Before Daylight feels like a small reinvention. The EP has the rawness of a confession scribbled in the margins of a notebook, yet it moves like a band with something to prove. The songs stretch across genres, but what holds it together is Vanegas’ commitment to emotional clarity. Every track feels lived in, even when the sonic palette shifts dramatically.

“Help to Lie” eases things in with a relaxed alt country glide. There is a warmth to the arrangement that reminded me of long car rides and worn out cassette tapes. The track is not trying to impress you with clever twists. Instead, it sets the tone with a kind of quiet vulnerability that feels refreshing in its simplicity.

Then “Jesters and Spies” arrives like a theater curtain rising. It leans hard into a kind of dramatic eighties vibe, all slow burning tension and synth gloss sheen, before blooming into something heavier and more expansive. There is a grandeur just under the surface, and I caught flashes of early metal theatrics buried in the mix, but it is never heavy handed. The ambition feels justified.

“51A” turns the dial to pop punk and does not hesitate. It is scrappy, fast, and tightly wound. There is a raw pulse to this one that stood out to me. It is the kind of energy you only get when a song is written in a burst of adrenaline.

Things shift again on “Jealous of the Ghosts,” and this time the EP goes whisper quiet. It is just voice and acoustic guitar, but the restraint is the point. It is a necessary breather, a moment of interiority that avoids sentimentality by staying grounded.

The closer, “Did I Do That?” lifts everything back up. It toys with bluegrass elements without leaning all the way in, choosing instead to focus on momentum and melody. The duet with the guest vocalist gives the track a real sense of release. There is a brightness here that feels earned after the tension and searching that came before.

Before Daylight does not pretend to have a singular identity. It moves quickly, maybe even unpredictably, but it never feels careless. The genre hopping can be a lot to take in at first, but I kept coming back for the moments when everything locks into place. When it does, it cuts through.

SPOTIFY