Fake Names – ‘Punk Ruins’

What do you do when your punk band of several decades pulls down the metaphorical shutters on making music? The options for unemployed frontmen boil down to starting a label or becoming a graffiti artist, but Dennis Lyxzén of Refused took the third path; reignite the supergroup. After teaming up with Brian Baker of Minor Threat, Bad Religion and a million effortless chugga-chugga pit-fuel riffs for two previous records, we now get Fake Names’ aptly named third outing ‘Punk Ruins’. Will this replace Refused for Mr Lyxzén instead of just running as a side-project? Who knows, and that’s the beauty of this record. It’s the sound of a bunch of friends at different stages of their punk lifecycle getting together and making music that they love with no agenda. From the ruins of Refused’s long-constructed career rises the phoenix of getting to write songs for the hell of it, and it’s so refreshing. 

‘Punk Ruins’ is also a learning experience for fans of the supergroup’s four members. Lyxzén’s testing out a new vocal style slightly akin to Howlin’ Pelle-meets-Billie-Joe-Armstrong, and while we can hear the Bad Religion, Minor Threat and Rocket From The Crypt DNA in there, Fake Names are channelling the joy of pop punk all the way. That’s not to say they aren’t taking themselves seriously; the title track, with all its “waiting for redemption” feels like a confession from someone who’s just on the verge of ditching the day job and diving straight into the full time punk rock lifestyle, with blistering solos from Baker and a singalong chorus – and it’s as deadpan as we’d expect. There’s a distinctive garage bounce that betrays just how much Fake Names are loving their experience, and even when they’re thinking back on when they got “caught in the landslide” on ‘Cover The Distance’ amid other similarly anguished lyrics, it’s always presented with a wry grin and a touch of flair on the solos. ‘What I Tell Myself’ is just happy beach punk made for good times, and that’s what we gain from listening to ‘Punk Ruins’: we get to share in the experience of taking a pause of doing what feels natural. 

If we’re talking about progression, ‘Punk Ruins’ feels like the point at which Fake Names have switched their train to a different set of tracks. Of course there’s still the popping abruptness that we associate with their sound on songs like opener ‘Until Normal’, but that’s been varnished with an easy gloss throughout the album as a whole. Take ‘Beautiful Scars’, a tune which could easily have emerged from the studio as an old school rager. The melodic shifts and sweetness make it so much more palatable, and their new direction seems like an expression of a group who’re happy about where they’ve found themselves in their lives. Darkness lurks on some songs like ‘If You Could See Me Today’, but it’s always tempered with an atmosphere of self-assurance and the softness of personal clarity. This might alienate folk who read the CV from the band members and think they’re in for a rough ride of growl and thrash, or even those who’ve been following the Fake Names journey from the sidelines, but if you’re in the position to begrudge these guys the freedom to make a slightly more light-hearted pop record, then you’re even more slightly missing the point of Fake Names. 

Lie back on a hillside and watch the sun set, or blast some tunes with mates you’ve known for decades. ‘Punk Ruins’ works perfectly in either scenario, as long as you’re as happy in your situation as Lyxzén and Co are. Fake Names are so pleasingly predictable, as new records are like trying to meet your crowd for a drink: it happens when everyone’s got time, and they’re in the same place, and the vibe is right. We have to make the time to appreciate this little slice of punk rock sunshine and let the riffs take us wherever they may please, because in uncertain musical times, getting back to your roots with the music that matters is the best feeling in the world. That’s the Fake Names ethos, after all. 

KATE ALLVEY