The 2017 film “The Ballad of Lefty Brown” tells the story of an aging Montana cowboy seeking revenge for the murder of a friend but ultimately finding himself involved in a much larger story. It would seem that the film’s lead character and Maiah Wynne couldn’t have less in common, but they come from the same place and they are both parts of something bigger.
Maiah Wynne’s track of the same name was featured in the film’s closing credits and it is lyrically a retelling of the movie’s revenge tale. Maiah takes on the voice of Lefty as he laments the loss of his friend which spurs the unravelling of his own life. She does so effectively, too. You’d think that a 21-year-old woman in the 21st century couldn’t properly embody an old, greying cowpoke in the old west, but she pulls it off.
The airiness of her voice gives the song a haunting quality that sounds mournful and ominous that translates easily and effectively.
Musically, the track is simple. A straight stomped rhythm and uncomplicated guitar strumming. Nothing overly technical or busy, much like Lefty himself. He’s a simple man who is used by the film to communicate more complex ideas. The same is true of Wynne’s song structure. The instrumentation, the simple verse-chorus construction, the slow march of the song, these things all serve the ultimate goal of keeping the song uncluttered. That way, the implications of the lyrics can really shine.
Throughout the song, Wynne peppers lyrics like “Is there justice for a man like me?” and “I’ll keep on going till I die.”
They seem almost portentous as if foretelling an ill fate for the narrator. The “he” used in the song is vague and intentionally so. It is almost interchangeable between Lefty’s friend, Lefty’s target, and Lefty himself. But even with this odd prediction of his own demise, Wynne gives the song an aura of acceptance.
The whole story is, after all, in the service of justice and that sacrifice might be worth it in the eyes of the film and the song.
The film was shot in Montana over the course of only 20 days. That’s not a lot of time to tell such an expansive story, but maybe that kind of restriction is what this kind of story needs. The film held itself to a tight schedule, Wynne keeps her song to the bare bones, Lefty stays focused on a singular aim. It seems on the surface to be simple and inelegant, or even amateurish. But that restriction gives the story the freedom to be ambiguous and to be open to interpretation. The ideas in the song and the film aren’t clear cut. They’re too big and too grey for that. And the way Wynne tells the story is completely different even though it is, in essence, the same.
