Goodbye Honolulu: “Cut Off”
review by Alena Kochinski
Goodbye Honolulu released their first single in almost a year with “Cut Off.” Along with it, an oddball and completely on brand music video.
In the clip, a surgeon (played by the song’s guitarist, Fox Martindale) finishes up his smoke break. As he flicks his cigarette bud out of frame, a frisky bass riff queues the song’s title, “Cut Off.” Quick jump to a wide frame as we watch Martindale casually santer over to an unconscious body, that was only a few feet away. Two other surgeons (bassist Jacob Switzer and drummer Max Bornstein), carrying a primitive gurney, hurry over to take away the body. They cross streets and graffitied alleys as freeze frames and title cards reintroduce the audience to Goodbye Honolulu’s cast of characters. Electric guitar and drums join the horizontal journey of their neck-braced patient, and lead singer, Emmet S. Webb.
“It’s automatic when I lose controlI feel bad about it on my way home…… How would I have ever knownWhat you been putting me through?You’ve got me running with my head cut off.”
We wake up with the patient in what seems to be a poorly plastic wrapped garage. The scrubbed bandmates prep for surgery, with snapping gloves and sharp utensils. First slice goes to Switzer, and the special effects team did not disappoint with the campy gore. Switzer marvels at Bornstein’s medical find, an internal fleshy bit that can be politely described looking like soggy bacon. Martindale doesn’t bother with tweezers, and goes right in with his fingers. The surgeons continue to tear into the very aware Webb, as he mumbles lyrics through sleepy eyes. Switzer pulls out the vodka, taking a healthy swig just before he brings the bottle to patient Webb’s lips. One more gulg is administered into the open wound before the liquor returns to Switzer’s gullet. As they pull out Webb’s heart and chuck it aside, his essence flat lines. The part time surgeon-musicians take an incredibly long moment to watch the heart monitor fail. They then dramatically attempt to resuscitate the patient, while his heart lies behind them…. cradled in a bloody bedpan. The heart monitor glitches into a rainbow of grainy images and psychedelic messages, and we see patient Webb for the last time. Dizzying harmonies transcend Webb’s likeness until there is nothing left but audio feedback and the silent thud of a body bag hitting the forest floor.
For a relatively short song length (clocking in at a little less than 3 minutes), Goodbye Honolulu fans are given a pretty decent story. Lyrically, it seems Webb has fallen victim to someone (possibly a love interest) who puts him in pain. He is not in control of himself when he is around this person, running around like a headless chicken. The video compliments the song’s narrative with Martindale’s character finding an already broken person (Webb’s character) he wants to “fix.” They cut into the heart, where no injury seems to be at first. However, the procedure continues and the organ is stripped little by little. The administrators of pain then drink to make it easier to inflict more of it. The patient then drinks to cope with that pain. The cycle goes on and on- until their patient has no more feeling left. The doctors try to mend the damage, but the damage is done. They chuck the body, and move on. What’s a better way to understand a toxic relationship than through metaphorical malpractice?
“Cut Off” and it’s music video marks not only the triumphant return of Goodbye Honolulu, but also the evolution of their storytelling. Pre-two thousand and twenty, Goodbye Honolulu’s music was harsh, energetic, and erratic. A modern cigarette-eating-rock-n-rolling-mosher's dream. However, I find myself especially excited for this new chapter. With a debut album set for release this year and SXSW confirmed, big things are coming to GBH.
Watch “Cut Off” on Youtube February 26th, stream it the 28th. Add this one to your “crushes suck, but crushing claws don’t” playlist. You won’t regret it.