The sun is rising, but don’t pull the covers over your head.
It’s time to rise, rock n’ shine…
Who: Pop rock newcomers Seasonal.
What: You can headbang, you can dance, you can get reflective with “Strangers”.
Why: “Strangers” highlights the importance of family connection and how it feels when that’s missing. And oh yeah, it’s a total jam too.
FFO: idobi Radio
“The track is about me never knowing either of my father’s parents and how it feels to know so little about what is normally a large part or everyone’s lives. It raises the questions of what if any characteristics we share and what would they think of the person I have become?
When making the video we wanted to keep it simple and just document the day to day activities of people from the two generations in question. We were insistent that it had to be a genuine grandfather and grandchild to give it the authenticity we wanted. Luckily our good friend and merch guy and his grandfather we happy to be a part of it. It was nice that through the process of making the video for a track about having no memories of my grandfather, we were able to create a memory between these two.” – Matt Truseler, frontman of Seasonal
“‘Lies’ is a song that summons the wrath of the disenfranchised and kindles the spirit of rebellion in the listener. It’s an appeal to the gods, told in the first person. The inspiration for the song came about through contemplating the ever-present phenomenon of ‘fake news’, the echo chamber that is social media and the divisive rhetoric we encounter on a daily basis. At once a call for a reckoning of the wicked souls who fabricate the narratives which divide us, the song is an angry assault aimed at our manipulative masters. Musically the song is driven primarily by drums and bass and at times has an almost funky drive to it. The bass line and drum groove never change but the chorus is accentuated by an eerie melody carried by trumpet, guitar and ethereal vocals. The track stands out from the others on the album in the sense that we added a lot of percussive elements to the drums, including several layers of foot stomping, giving it an extra thick smack.” – Wooden Horsemen
“I extended my hand to introduce myself. Judge Doom grabbed my collar and pulled me towards him. ‘You’ve got 5 minutes with my boys, no more, no less.’ The former cartoon-villain (and current manager of indie rock band Antarctigo Vespucci) nodded, opened the door and led me in. It’s a stark, cold hotel conference room lit by fluorescent light. There’s one small table in the center of the room, with three chairs. As I enter, Jeff Rosenstock & Chris Farren both leap to their feet as if I’m the first person they’ve seen in weeks. ‘It’s so nice to meet you! We’ve been really excited to talk to someone about our music.’ Their eyes shift back and forth between the floor and Judge Doom.
I take a seat at the table and ask my first question. ‘This song, ‘White Noise’, it’s your first new song in a few years. What have you been up to?’
Farren looks to Rosenstock, Rosenstock glances at me, then closes his eyes, as if he’s preparing to do something he doesn’t want to do. He begins, ‘Well, we’ve both been doing our own thing. I’ve been doing a lot of writing and touring under my own name, and Chris has been doing the same. It’s been a blast to get back together. We really love making music together.’ The answer seemed innocuous enough, but something about the delivery felt forced, as if it was part of a script.
I direct my next question to Farren, who is now visibly sweating even though the room was a chilly 54 degrees. I ask him to tell me what the song is about. ‘It’s about those scary feelings you get when you’re with someone new, it could be anyone, a friend, a romantic partner, or discovering a new band.’ He begins to loosen up. ‘I think we’ve all felt a little obsessed at one point in our life, so when the Judge gave us this song—I mean, when we wrote this song I—‘. Rosenstock’s face dropped, Farren started stammering. I tried to clarify, ‘Wait, you didn’t write this song?’
Judge Doom’s gravely voice boomed from behind me – ‘That’s enough for today. Thank you for coming in.’ He pulled me up by my shoulders and carried me through the doorway. The door slammed.” – as told by Chris Farren