The Fake Friends‘ new album, Let’s Not Overthink This, starts off with the cry of “No truce!” on “Ministry of Peace.” They’re coming to shake things up, kick down walls, and slap you out of it.
Matthew Savage sings / shouts through the opening track, calling out everyone addicted to constant stimulation (“You got your hand glued to a screen hoping that’ll give you meaning.”) as Felix Crawford-Legault and Luca Santilli‘s guitars roar all over the place. “Sucker Born Every Minute” echoes Franz Ferdinand and Kaiser Chiefs-style rock with it’s hooky chorus, Bradley Cooper-Graham‘s bright, almost go-go synths, and Savage’s “shout them with us!” lyrics about people who can’t get out of their own damn way.
“The Way She Goes” seems to be about co-dependency, and the frantic, angular guitar chords reflect the fractured patterns in such a relationship (“You want it, I need it. I got it, you want it.”). “Control” follows this theme (“Don’t look so defeated. You only said what you mean. Too tired to keep fighting, it’s tearing us at the seams.”).
“Five Star Review” is a quirky, funny, possibly fictional tale of the history / takedown of the band told by friends and crew. “Living the Dream” is a rousing track, with great call-and-response vocals and heavy drumming from Michael Tomizzi. “Backstreet’s Back Pt. II” has this nervous tension to it that gets under your skin.
“HyperConnection” has Savage looking for something, anything, in common with a potential lover but “Your favorite books are way too long.” and “I’ll never get what you said to me. I can’t speak in astrology. What the fuck is a Capricorn?” Answer: “It’s a horse. It’s a horse!” On “If It Happens,” Savage admits that he’s doing the hard work to repair a relationship even though he knows it’s fruitless (“You know it won’t matter how much I do. It’s all in my head.”).
“Dance on My Grave” has perhaps Michael Kamps‘ funkiest bass groove on the entire record. It carries the whole song and will get you dancing, on graves or atop other things (tables, bars, desks, crosswalks, car hoods, etc.). The album ends with the simple, brutally funny “Good Friends,” in which the whole band sings about “friends” who are so miserable it’s exhausting (“I forget just how happy I can be when you’re not around.”). You have to wonder if the intended recipient of the song got the message.
The album’s title refers to not only the band’s creative process but also hides a Zen lesson. Alan Watts said, “A person who thinks all the time has nothing to think about except thoughts.” We often get stuck in our own heads, and The Fake Friends are here to snap us out of it by whacking us with the Zen stick that is this record.
Keep your mind open.
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[Thanks to Chad at No Rules PR!]