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A Farewell Device Drops "Help to Lie"

A Farewell Device, the project of Bay Area songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Justin Vanegas, isn’t trying to reinvent the wheel on “Help to Lie,” but the track still manages to carve out its own space somewhere between late 90s alt rock sentimentality and Americana tinged pop. I went into it expecting something small and self contained, and instead found a song that gradually builds into something towering and deeply earnest.


It opens unassumingly with a few strummed chords, major and minor circling each other in that familiar melancholic dance, with Vanegas' vocals sitting right on top. The rhythm section slips in without ceremony, anchoring the song with a steady 4/4 pulse that doesn’t draw attention to itself. There’s nothing flashy here, but the restraint works. The track slowly warms up like it’s waiting for permission to go bigger.


About halfway through, the whispered breakdown hits. It’s brief but effective, a quiet intake of breath before the song pulls itself into full ballad mode. From there, “Help to Lie” stretches out. The chorus pushes hard toward a kind of emotional climax that reminds me of the moments when the Goo Goo Dolls tried to sound orchestral without actually bringing in an orchestra. I also heard flashes of early Dave Matthews Band in the guitar tones and rhythmic choices, though Vanegas avoids the jam band trappings and keeps things tight.

What’s interesting is how the song walks that line between intimate and radio ready. It’s clearly reaching for something cathartic, and even if it leans into convention, I didn’t mind. The emotional arc feels real enough. I could picture this playing over the credits of a coming of age film or blasting from a car stereo in a moment of personal upheaval. It has that kind of specificity through universality that mainstream ballads used to chase.


It’s not a song that demands repeated listens, but it’s more affecting than I expected. “Help to Lie” doesn’t posture or pretend to be cool. It just wants to be felt. And in a moment where so much pop rock is about calculated distance, that directness has a strange sort of charm. I’m curious to hear where A Farewell Device goes next. There’s clearly more in Vanegas’ toolkit, and if he leans into the emotional sincerity while pushing the arrangements a little further, he could end up somewhere really compelling.



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