The Cover Story

FEVER 333: “I want to highlight the emotional element of existing in such a f*cking fractious and divided world”

As FEVER 333 announce long-awaited second album Darker White – the follow-up to 2019 breakout STRENGTH IN NUMB333RS – we meet an exhausted Jason Aalon for a startling and brutally honest chat about the toll things have taken so far… but why the idea of positive change is something we all must desperately cling on to.

FEVER 333: “I want to highlight the emotional element of existing in such a f*cking fractious and divided world”
Words:
Nick Ruskell
Photography:
Darren Craig

“I’m sorry. You’re kind of like my therapist right now.”

This isn’t the Jason Aalon we’re used to. Several weeks before the announcement of FEVER 333’s new album, Darker White, Kerrang! catches up with the frontman in a park in Venice Beach, California. Under a typically sunny sky, he gets his morning coffee and tells us he’s unbothered by the early hour, being a father to two young children. Nodding at his surroundings, he remarks that, “Trees and play equipment, that’s pretty much my life now.”

Quickly, though, it becomes apparent that all is not well. Usually a fireball of wild energy onstage, and a man who talks in determined, forward-looking words off it, sharing at length ideas for the change he wants to see in the world and the importance of putting your energy into it, today he often talks as if that man is a once close friend he hasn’t seen for a while. Not least when, asked about the new album, the first with the band’s new line-up (completed by drummer Thomas Pridgen, bassist April Kae and guitarist Brandon Davis), you’re not met with bullish, cast-iron confidence and purpose in what he calls “the mission”.

“I am currently experiencing a very real and threatening type of darkness in my own mind and my spirit,” he says. “I don’t think it’s forever. But it’s consuming me at the moment, so I don’t really know what to expect from this album or from the people.

“I’m trying to work through all of this in real time,” Jason continues, apologising for neither the first nor last time that perhaps this interview isn’t the usual. Indeed, he admits that the black cloud had him less than enthused about doing it, knowing where he was going to go with it, but he’s glad he’s here. “Before, I would really practice, and I made sure that I had answers for everything. [Now] I would like to show a type of humanity and humility and emotional authenticity to people now, versus having an answer that is seemingly didactic every single time. I would like to just work it out in front of you, bro. So that’s kind of what I’m doing now.”

There’s a lot of reasons for Jason finding himself here. One is that it comes in cycles periodically – “When I was 19, when I was in my late 20s”. Looking for specifics this time, he says it’s a burnout of observing and engaging with the world as politically as he does. Some of the music on Darker White – incidentally, a record not weighed down, but still the usual many fists of FEVER fighting back against pricks and proudly asserting self-esteem – was seeded over two years ago. The new track, NO HOSTAGES, is a funky, furious kickback against lethal police violence, notably against people of colour. After the enormous reaction to the murder of George Floyd by police officer Derek Chauvin, very little has changed. It’s partly the exhaustion of keeping attention on such things that are gnawing at the singer.

“I wrote some of these songs during the pandemic, when things were happening. I hoped that a lot of the subjects and the weight of the subjects that I discuss typically would ease up, and they haven’t. And I know people are fatigued, because I’m also fucking fatigued about all this shit that I have spoken about. I think that now there’s been so much compounding of that time at this phase we’re in right now… I'm being super-honest with you, I’m exhausted. I’m tired, bro.”

“I hoped that the weight of the subjects that I discuss typically would ease up”

Listen to Jason detail how he’s “exhausted” about what’s still going on in the world, post-pandemic

The phrase Jason uses at one point is “activist’s depression”. Times aren’t getting any less interesting, either: today he notes with visible distress the continuing situation in Gaza, and the terrible murder of three children in Southport and subsequent far-right violence, as two happenings he can’t stop thinking about. But, he adds, there’s a creeping normalisation of these things that make finding a way through so much harder. Two weeks before we talk, someone took a shot at Donald Trump during a rally. Already, what would once have been a game-changing occurrence has already become memed to death, and moved on from, without any real analysis of just where we are as a people.

“We’re so fucking fatigued that we think that shit is normal,” he frowns. “The situation in Palestine, we’re so up in arms about it, but now we’re talking about the Brat album, you know? That’s not Charlie XCX’s fault. That’s not anyone's fault. It’s just interesting the ways that we choose to care, and how much, and then how quickly that can dissipate.”

In amongst all this, on the album, as he’s often done, if not quite to this level, he’s expressing his anxieties as a person simply trying to live a life.

“I’m just really in a challenging position as a human on this Earth that is somewhat socially and politically cognisant, while also trying to deal with my own emotions as an emotional being,” Jason says. “I haven’t done that in a long time.

“I had to get this album out to say: don’t forget that these things are happening. I wanted to take this opportunity to be like, ‘Oh, you’re fatigued? So am I, but it’s still happening. So what do we do? What is the next step?’ What’s the next phase for all of us? Fuck my band: what’s the next phase for all of us to make right by all these atrocities that we’re seeing?”

On this front, Jason points to how impressed he was with the number of bands who pulled out of Download in June over disagreeing with the festival’s ties with Barclaycard, and those who worked behind the scenes to have the partnership ended. Elsewhere, though, he’s disappointed at people’s inability to reach across barricades and, if not find common ground and possibly have minds changed, at least commune and understand one another. Living in America during election year, it’s hard not to see a galvanised divide between people.

Recently, he and his wife were getting coffee when his wife – originally from New Zealand – struck up conversation with a woman who she’d overheard talking about wanting to visit her home country. In fact, Jason's wife said, she was planning on visiting home at some point soon. “Good idea, with everything going on,” opined the new acquaintance, pointing at the Kamala Harris shirt on her chest. “Unless she wins.” Another customer nearby, in response, made a point of standing up and walking out the door.

“I think that that is a pretty good example or a real-time metaphor for what we’re experiencing right now,” frowns Jason. “Maybe they could have talked, or maybe she could have just thought about her reaction a little bit more. But instead of talking, she made a cursory stance by huffing and puffing and then leaving.

“Here in America, politically, it’s a powder keg, and we’re just waiting for something really extreme to happen. And I think some people are ready for it and excited about it, and a lot of people are afraid of it. It’s a really strange mixture of feelings at the moment.”

“I believed there was no way that Donald Trump was going to become president, and then he did”

Hear Jason reflect on the “racism and bigotry and misunderstanding” in America after Trump was elected in 2016

Such differences have always been there, of course. But the past few years have widened many divisions far beyond the usual run of things. There’s been a hardening of attitudes, and also a grotesque and proud mainstreaming of prejudices that would have been unthinkable a decade ago. At least, to the level they have. Post-Trump, what’s worrying to Jason is that his sort of behaviour and refusal to pay any sort of attention to the rules has opened a scary door. For everyone.

“I walked into 2016 believing there was no way that Donald Trump was going to actually become president, and then he did. And then he actually became, to a large swath of our population in America, a legitimate politician, a legitimate answer, a legitimate excuse for a lot of racism and bigotry and misunderstanding of a lot of culture in this country. So after that, I sincerely don’t know what I think is possible anymore.”

Not that he thinks the alternative is any angel, either.

“Kamala Harris is a fucking cop,” he spits of the California presidential candidate and former state attorney, who has been part of the legal system that has hit poor people and minorities in the state hardest, with some seemingly caught in a netherworld of not being able to get parole for small crimes such as weed possession, even after the laws on such things relaxed. “She has caused a lot of my friends and myself much distress due to the systemic imbalances that I talk about in this band. She’s a part of that. And I also don’t think she’s our answer.

“I do think that the idea of Kamala Harris, for a lot of people, can be helpful towards believing, having the hope that I don’t have. It’s dangerous to believe in something that isn’t true, and then allow it to happen, and then experience the same sort of fucking critical damage that we experience as a population, because we’re allowing politicians to pose as our friends. As people that care about us, when they don’t. She certainly doesn’t, because a lot of my friends are in jail and still on community service and on probation – great people that could have had reform opportunities but don’t, because of her.”

As ever, then, at the root of what Jason believes is the idea of community and individuals making the changes they want to see, rather than waiting for a hero to come along when the American system is basically “the same two birds with different coloured feathers”. It’s just that, right now, the hope of that happening in any meaningful way has become much smaller than it once may have done for the singer.

“There needs to be a different approach to all of this. We need to engage with each other to see what we’re doing, to see how we’re doing it, see how we can do it better. Positive critique and beneficial critique, we need to be open to these things, instead of being that woman sitting next to my wife and that other lady and just walking away. We need to get better at actually analysing, or perhaps engaging with people, to understand the situation before we create a whole other situation that we then have to fix again.”

Ask Jason if he can pinpoint when the light began to fade for him, and he points not to the political – although the weakening state of things, as we’ve seen, hasn’t helped – but the personal. Namely, he realised he was being asked to do things with the band, “the mission”, he wasn’t totally on board with, but let slide in order to keep others happy.

“I’m not an industry guy,” he sighs. “I’m just not. I was asked by this industry and people around me to put my feelings aside and what I believed was most important in all this aside and do things a different way. You should always be open and available to change and to try things differently. But there was somewhere inside of me that knew that this was not sustainable, and it was not going to make me feel good forever.

“I was asked by this industry and people around me to put my feelings aside”

Jason explains how things have gotten him down on a personal level these past few years

“I want to make it super-clear: I’m not trying to, in a roundabout way, talk about my previous members [guitarist Stephen Harrison and drummer Aric Improta, now in House Of Protection]. I’m not saying it’s anyone that people even know. I’m really not trying to do that, because if I want to say something, I’ll say it. But that’s not what I'm doing here. I’m just talking about the environment that was created around FEVER.

“I was having a difficult time finding my own happiness and fulfilment because I was paying attention to everyone else’s individual feelings and egos and ideas of me, and like a project that I started because I wanted to do something that I thought was supposed to be bigger than me. I allowed myself to believe what the industry was saying about me, good and bad, for a moment.”

Eventually, having people-pleased for so long, Jason found himself feeling adrift from what he should be doing with it, and the usually-focused frontman began to ask himself very big questions. Checking yourself, he says is one thing, and a healthy one, but the doubt it all left was like scratching an itch with a meat cleaver.

“I started to get really self-critical: what if this is happening because of something I did wrong, or something I said wrong, or something I wrote wrong? Then you spiral into this strange position of self-analysation, which is required, but then you get quite self-deprecating, and you become quite critical. Then the fog that’s hidden [comes down], and you’re like, ‘This is forever, and I’ve ruined my career.’ But then, it’s not supposed to be a career – it’s art. It’s a really, really tricky position to be in.”

Jason says that his current state isn’t the best for what he believes in and wants to use his art as a weapon for – “Me being depressed is not necessarily helpful. Me being less motivated to get out of bed and do or say something is not helpful. Me not being able to be an enthusiastic father to my children, who I want to see grow up and see the world as a beautiful place, isn’t helpful” – but it’s also worth noting that he hasn’t given up. Far from it. And that’s a victory in itself, and part of what Jason wants people to take from Darker White.

“I would really like to highlight in this interview, if we could, the emotional element of activism, but also just the emotional element of existing in such a fucking fractious and divided world,” he says. “I need to be here right now to realise that my unhappiness is because I forgot who I was for a second. So I need to find myself to be happy again. And I want to be happy, which I’m not right now, but I want to be. Others may not want to join me, and at that point, it falls on me to make sure that I’m happy, that I’m content, and that I know that I’m doing whatever I believe is important and an effort for fulfilment and to be of service.”

While Jason currently looks for any bit of light to grab onto, we suggest that getting back on the road and seeing his work connecting people may help. “Ask me in six months, bro,” he says with a smile.

“You’re right. I need to feel comfortable with the idea that it doesn’t matter if one person shows up, that I’m doing the right thing. If FEVER can offer an inspiring soundtrack to look inside and find that power, to find that light, even if it’s a speck, like the one I’m looking for now in my life, in this darkness, if we’re able to provide inspiration and motivation to search for that, that’s good.”

It may not be the chat we expected to have today, but perhaps needed. Jason says maybe this current period of his life had to happen in order to recalibrate, hard as it is. He thanks Kerrang! for listening, and once again says sorry if he’s not giving what we want. In return, we thank him for feeling comfortable enough to share, and sincerely wish him better days. But if part of the point of FEVER 333 is to try and activate self-esteem and inspire change, both political and for you, as a human being trying to live, Jason’s current place is, in its way, part of “the mission”. As we part, he says something that sums up that he may be down, but he’s determined not to be out.

“Even though I’m in this dark space, I do believe that change is not only possible, but it has to happen,” he concludes. “If nothing else, that’s why I do this.”

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