Alanis Morissette would be proud, surely.
The ironic thing about Fake Names is that there is nothing fake about them at all. Everything here is as it seems, you might say.
For the explanation of this, we probably need to discuss who they are.
Brian Baker (Bad Religion, Minor Threat), and Michael Hampton (S.O.A.) have been friends for a long time, and they decided to have a bit of a jam. Things went well, so they found another old mate, Johnny Temple – they’d gone to school together -to play bass. Their singer came from a little further afield.
Dennis Lyxzén of Refused, seems a little incongruous at first look, but the instincts proved right. They’d played with him in Europe, so they knew. And one listen to the 10 songs here (literally true given how immediate they are) you’ll get it too.
But the “fake” thing, right? Right. Well, it’s about more than a pedigree.
See, they’d recorded the demos without any effects on the guitar, in order that they should be pure rock n roll. They are. It is. But then Baker took these demos to his Bad Religion Bandmate, Brett Gurewitz. Now, he just happens to have founded Epitaph records. And he said this, basically: “Them ain’t demos, bruv. We’re sticking them suckers out as is.” (I may have paraphrased that a bit).
So they did.
I missed a bit of the story out – and in fairness, it’s just as crucial. These demos were recorded at a studio owned by Stevie Van Zandt. And some of the Jersey grit seems to have rubbed off on Fake Names, because for 28 minutes, its like Springsteen and Gaslight Anthem are jamming on Hold Steady songs with Pkewx3.
That sounds cool, yeah? Good, because it really, really is.
Right from the opening bars of “All For Sale” this is punky power pop from the big leagues. There’s a bit where Baker and Hampton combine Gorham and Robertson style for some twin guitar shenanigans, and the politically astute lyrics top it off: “In the trickle down economy,” sings Lyxzén, we all become commodities.”
I have no idea if the sessions were as enjoyable as they appear here, but goodness me, “Driver” sounds like a blast – and the sloganeering is brilliant. “It’s a short fall from the top of the heap, to pitching your tent down on the street.” Might have been written before Covid, but it fits, doesn’t it?
The best thing about this is it is not afraid to take turns. “Being Them” is darker, post something or other cleverer people than me would say, while “Brick” is faster, furious and an obvious choice for the single.
Whoever is drumming here (and I don’t know who) is a real powerhouse, but we can be more certain that Temple anchors down “Darkest Days” and it takes a sort of Joy Division turn, before the harmonies kick in.
“Heavy Feather” sees some interesting guitar, and there are Power Pop bands everywhere – you think of Redd Kross, perhaps – who are looking on with real envy here. “First Everlasting” is another from the same type of place, and the hook they find is one that will not leave, however hard you try.
Indeed, you can pretty much say that about all of these. “This Is Nothing” is the sort of thing you wish Brian Fallon was still doing instead of the lifeless, dreary stuff he put out a couple of months ago, and if you are looking for lessons on how to make three minute rock songs, then you could do worse than get them from “Weight”.
Like many of them – and this is in no way meant as a criticism – “Lost Cause” has a real 80s feel, it is fast, furious, fun. But also skilful. This might have started as a laugh between two old mates, but it is not that any more.
No, rather it is a fabulous collection, equal parts punk, pop, rock with the feel of a blue collar working class reality. To call it greater than the sum of its parts would be a cliché, we’ll just call it what it is instead: Magnificent. And that, believe me, is no fake news.
Rating 9/10
