From the recording Onion Honey - Spite, Rebranded
On the eve of Onion Honey’s first Canadian Folk Music Awards (nominated for Contemporary Vocalist of the Year, 2025) comes a new single about hope.
Woody Guthrie’s hope machine may feel like it’s broken down at the side of the road, but this song encourages listeners to use whatever fuel might be at hand to keep going. A poetic, timely track for Canadians and others who are pushing back, the title Spite, Rebranded quotes a post by Tumblr user a-star-that-fell, and songwriter Esther Wheaton’s intricate lyrics are dotted with a rich selection of references - John Hughes’ Some Kind of Wonderful, Emily Dickinson, the Japanese kintsugi technique, Aristotle’s Physics, and the legend of Sisyphus among others. The track features a contemporary string band arrangement of clawhammer banjo, acoustic guitar, mandolin, and double bass with banjo and guitar solos and a solo vocal by Wheaton.
The band recorded this single in February with Andy Magoffin at his House of Miracles in Cambridge, Ontario.
Lyrics
You know it's learned, it's a discipline, a skill
It's not something that you're born with, it's a house you gotta build
You know it's heavy, like a Sisyphean stone
And when you drop it, got to push it up again
And sometimes hope comes empty-handed
You raised them up but they crash-landed
But sometimes hope is spite rebranded
And that's fine
Well I get angry, tired of cleaning up this mess, I’ve had to
Swallow my teeth and bite my tongue and train my gag reflex
The data’s full of blood and bones, the trendline’s looking grim
The place I wear my future feels like a phantom limb
Sure I’m at a disadvantage
But I’ve added gold to pieces damaged
‘Cause sometimes hope is wrath I’ve managed
And that’s fine
You know it’s thin on the ground and few and far between
Got to find it where you can, substitute when picking’s lean
Might be grim determination, or a simple question mark
If you light the place on fire or grow accustomed to the dark
They say that hope can't be commanded
Don't always bloom quite where it's planted
I've seen it wild, I’ve seen it tended
And that's fine
You know nature hates a vacuum and loves those shades of grey
Won’t run hot and cold on purpose or care what the devil may
It might be a thing with feathers flying too close to the moon
Or sitting in your ribcage humming you a crooked tune
And sometimes hope comes open-handed
To pull you up when you’ve crash-landed
But sometimes hope is spite rebranded
And that’s fine