BRIAN FALLON

Brian Fallon’s third solo album Local Honey (out now on Lesser Known Records) might best be defined by its focus. It’s a stripped-down effort that sees the former Gaslight

Anthem frontman paring back the soulful rock ’n’ roll sound found on his previous records (2016’s Painkillers and 2018’s Sleepwalkers), in favor of sparse arrangements that underpin his most personal storytelling to date. Now free from major label influence, it’s a pure expression of where the New Jersey-based songwriter is at in his life right now, written and released on his own terms.

What longtime listeners might not expect is what it took for Fallon to achieve this sound. For starters, the prolific songwriter took guitar and piano lessons to sharpen his skills, which may come as a surprise for someone whose collective body of work includes a gold record. However, it’s emblematic of his commitment to continued creative excellence and drive to avoid repeating his own past. Rather than flexing his chops, formal education taught him to do more with less.

“I was able to express myself in a new way where it didn't feel like it was the same old thing,” Fallon says. “Not that I felt that the other stuff I did was the same old thing, but I think that continuing to do that would be the same old thing.”

Fallon found an ideal studio partner with Grammy Award-winning producer Peter Katis (The National, Interpol, Frightened Rabbit) to bring this more minimalist approach to life. Fallon credits him for pushing the record in directions it wouldn’t have gone otherwise, bringing a knack for layering simple sounds in a way that is often deceptively complex. For example, there are moments where two drum kits might play complementary patterns, or where Travis-picking allows the guitar to carry the beat and the melody by itself, in order to free up the rhythm section to move into unconventional territory. Katis also brought his signature melancholic vibe to the record, which fit well with the daring honesty Fallon wanted to capture. Rather than telling the sort of broadly relatable stories that make the mundane feel fit for the big screen, he instead turned towards his own experience as a married parent with two kids. That isn’t to say that Local Honey is comprised of stereotypical dad rock, or for that matter, anything stereotypical at all. In fact, allowing himself the space to confront his current reality may have been the biggest creative breakthrough Fallon made on the record, digging deep into the challenges and triumphs of fatherhood while hiding a little bit less behind metaphor than before. Being more open about his own life while penning something fewer folks may find relatable was a twofold risk, yet one that Fallon needed to confront

to write the record. “I took the encouragement that I bet you a lot of my audience is probably in the same boat as me,” Fallon says. “So, maybe it's just for them. Maybe it's just for a small group of us, and that's cool, but I had to go around that little thing in my head.”

While making music that’s more personal may inherently mean limiting its audience, it’s hard not to feel that sentiment may be selling the record’s appeal short. Even as Fallon’s lyrical emphasis turns inward, what he hopes listeners can take away from his music hasn’t changed.

“Hopefully they enjoy it for their own lives,” he says. “And then they can interject their own stories, and then it'll serve … how other records have made me feel.” ��

Punk rock escapism is overdue for a resurgence, since the world has been plunged into an inescapable nightmare. Enter Drakulas new album, Terminal Amusements, which dropped last month via Dine Alone records. Written by vocalist Mike Weibe (Riverboat Gamblers, High Tension Wires), and guitarist Zach Blair (Rise Against), the group’s sophomore record is a tincture of power punk and ’80s new wave. But take a closer look at the lyrics and the aesthetics of the album, and you will find an exploration into the grimy underbelly of a neo-noir fantasy-version of Times Square, a glimpse into the messy lives of messy characters in all their glory and vices. Not quite a linear story, but more of an immersion into a fantastical punk rock underworld.

“Everything is written around this video game arcade in a fictional 1970’s metropolis, the arcade is called Terminal Amusements,” Weibe explains. “It’s about the characters who are weaving their way in and out of the arcade in that area.” The seeds of Terminal Amusements are sewn deep within Weibe’s own childhood memories.

“The concept of the band is a loose idea between The Warriors and Taxi Driver,” he says. “Basically, what I thought New York City was like when I was eight years old, having never been there, having only lived in the suburbs of Texas. What I imagined it was like.”

Weibe elaborates on the use of many different eras to create an atemporal setting for his fictional world.

““My personal rule for lyrics is that nothing can be current,” he says. “If there’s a reference, it has to be from this made up world. I got deep into this podcast called The Rialto Report, it’s about the golden age of the Times Square pornography scene and like art, and the factory movements in Times Square back then. And there was this documentary called ‘80 Blocks from Tiffany’s,’ it’s about gangs in New York in that time period. And I sort of just blended it all together and made up my “EVERYTHING SEEMS UNREAL RIGHT NOW. SO MAYBE IT’S THE PERFECT TIME FOR A RECORD ABOUT A MADE UP PLACE IN AN ASKEW REALITY” own little world, and my own little we’re linked up our own virtual arslang terms, and my own characters cade, roaming around in and out of that walk in and out of there.” Terminal Amusements, making back Produced and engineered by Stuacters, using weird virtual currency. art Sikes (White Stripes, Rocket from Doesn’t sound that bad, actually... the Crypt), the album covers a wide alley deals with seedy outlaw charamount of musical terrain, grab“I do think there is a tension and a bing elements of Dickies-style pop ‘what fucking world is this?’ in real punk with synth-heavy New Wave life right now,” Weibe says. “I was elements, giving it an atemporal going for that on the record, but in feel to it. a different way. Everything seems unreal right now. So maybe it’s the “Something I learned from Ted perfect time for a record about a Hutch on the last Gamblers record, made up place in an askew reality. he would talk about trying to capPeople come to records at differture something that sounds like [it’s ent times, but I feel like for me, the from] a while back, but he said (in a release of this is always going to British accent), ‘you don’t want it to link Terminal Amusements and the be a museum piece.’” lockdown of 2020. I've put out a Since most of us will be spending this lot of records, and I don't think time caught up with TV, movies, and any of what was going on when video games in the next few months, they came out was this memorawho knows? It might not be long until ble.” �� �� ��

INTERVIEW WITH SINGER MIKE WEIBE BY DEREK NIELSEN