“Goodness Gracious” - The Heligoats
Photo Credit: Artist EPK
If you’ve never heard of The Heligoats, you’ve probably at least paused to wonder what is a Heligoat? And that’s kind of the point. Equal parts bizarre and endearing, the name perfectly mirrors the wonderfully offbeat world Chris Otepka invites listeners into—a world where indie rock takes a detour through daydreams and strange science.
Fronted (and essentially fueled) by the wildly imaginative Otepka, The Heligoats aren't so much a band as they are a wandering storytelling machine wrapped in psychedelic two-step rhythms, whispered secrets, and acoustic guitar loops that feel like they were written at 2 a.m. in a treehouse. It’s indie rock, yeah—but through a prism. A cracked, charming prism held together by a roll of duct tape and a lot of heart.
Otepka’s musical story is full of oddball charm and relentless creative energy. The Heligoats started as his personal outlet way back in 1998, before Troubled Hubble—his first big project—was even a thing. Before Spotify, before TikTok, before you had email on your phone, Otepka was already weaving goofy-deep lyrical webs under a name borrowed from a comic book he made as a kid. (The original Heligoats were helicopter-goat hybrids running a movie theater. That should tell you everything and nothing at once.)
Even while Troubled Hubble was playing over 400 shows across North America and becoming a cult college rock darling, Otepka never let go of The Heligoats. It was always there—his oddball brainchild bubbling in the background. And after Hubble’s hiatus, he dove headfirst into it.
Photo Credit: Artist EPK
Imagine Built to Spill if Doug Martsch had a wilder imagination and more access to psychedelic mushrooms. Or like if The Mountain Goats and Bright Eyes had a baby that got really into birdcall synths and songs about your pancreas. You get acoustic guitars brushing up against fuzzed-out electric riffs, synth burps, quiet piano plinks, and drums that range from lazy river to lightning storm. And somehow, it all works.
The Heligoats don’t sit neatly in a genre box. “Indie Space Folk” is a label that’s floated around, and yeah, that gets close. But honestly, their sound is just... Heligoats. It's whimsical without being precious, raw without being scrappy, and melodic without chasing hooks. One track might make you laugh-snort at some weird turn of phrase, and the next might hit you right in the gut with a lyric that sneaks up on you like a late-night existential crisis.
Chris Otepka’s songwriting is where the real magic lives. He’s like a scientist-turned-poet who got lost in a forest and decided to sing about it. His lyrics are full of sideways insights about the human body, quantum physics, social anxiety, lawn care, emotions, outer space—sometimes all in the same song. They’re clever, but never show-offy. Surreal, but grounded. And always delivered with this tender, nasal sincerity that makes you lean in a little closer.
It’s not just the words—it’s the way he says them. Offbeat phrasing, weird cadences, rhymes that shouldn't work but totally do. You can tell this is a guy who secretly wanted to be a rapper but ended up making space-folk instead.
Otepka on stage talks to the crowd like they’re old friends. He plays the deep cuts and the new stuff and sometimes even unreleased tracks. It’s intimate, funny, sometimes a little heartbreaking, and always deeply human.
Photo Credit: Artist EPK
Whether solo or with his long-time bandmates—Steve Mitchell, Dave James, and Moo Haygood—The Heligoats’ live experience feels like one of those rare indie acts that truly connect. No big lights, no smoke machines. Just smart, strange, beautiful songs played with care.
From the early DIY days of Mountains and Sapling Sessions to standouts like Goodness Gracious and Back to the Ache, the discography is full of thoughtful gems. End of All-Purpose is a masterclass in heartfelt weirdness, and Back to the Lake shows off their melodic growth while still holding onto their signature quirks. Broken Flight, their 2024 film soundtrack? Unexpectedly cinematic and totally on-brand.
Heligoats are an evolving art project that feels lovingly handmade—and that makes it all the more compelling.
In a music world full of polish and algorithms, The Heligoats feel like a secret handshake. Their album Goodness Gracious is a reminder that music can still be weird, warm, insightful, funny, and deeply, deeply human. They’re the indie rock equivalent of a handwritten letter you didn’t know you needed.
So go ahead. Fall down the rabbit hole. Listen to “Fish Sticks” or “Mercury”. Watch the Tiny Desk. Buy the stickers. Dig into the lyrics. And get ready for one of the most beautifully strange musical journeys you've ever taken.
“Goodness Gracious” and The Heligoats full catalogue is available now on all major streaming platforms
