The Fake Fictions – Magic Infinity (self released)
“(Step Into The) Brite Lite”
In November of last year, a little-known Chicago pop band by the name of The Fake Fictions played their final show. Why did they thrown in the towel? The official reason was to free up the band so they could go to the moon; this made sense, for The Fake Fictions constantly hit stellar heights with their ridiculously rambunctious brand of pop, and it’s only natural that they’d retire to the higher spheres.
The Fake Fictions were the modern day equivalent to the garage and basement new wave bands of the 70s, just a bunch of friends (or in this case husband and wife and friend) banging out a joyous noise for no one’s benefit save themselves. In this noble pursuit The Fake Fics welcomed incorporated many sounds; slap-happy drumming that boils down punk rhythms into an infectious bounce: bass lines that alternately fizz with the hooky sweetness of the best bubblegum pop and motor forth with a chugging relentlessness; and the wild card, Nick Ammerman’s guitar, careening from freakout solos to angular melodies back to needlepoint atmospherics. Neither Nick nor wife Sarah will be winning American Idol with their singing talents, but the amateur enthusiasm that fuels their yelps conveys more happy release than any well-mannered singer is capable of summoning.
Magic Infinity, the posthumous E.P. that is the band’s final missive to the world, closes out their brilliant career in incandescent style. Punky opening cut Parallel World (included in this week’s Monday Mixtown) layers guitars both jangly, spacey, and fuzzy over relentless bass and drum bashing. The chorus of ”Ahyahyahyahyah/It’s a Parallel World where I belong!” is one of the catchiest in the band’s catalog. Brite Lite, the track accompanying this post, skews more towards the post-punky side of things, with its scribbled guitar reverb and misappropriation of the Be My Baby beat. At it’s core, however, the track is still pure pop; the songs “uh huh/oh yeah” chant will be more than happy to set up residence in your brain.
The quintessential Fake Fictions songs boast can’t-slow-me-down tempos, singalong vocals, and demand to be blasted as loud as your ears can tolerate. Their music was made to soundtrack summer days spent speeding down the highway; one summer in Chicago their third full-length album Krakatoa became my default driving-down-Lakeshore-Drive selection. Though the band is now gone, my many happy memories exceeding the posted speed limit with their music endure. Fake Fictions, you are remembered.
You can download everything The Fake Fictions released while they existed from their website here.
