HUSHMONEY can change your mind. Led by Chris Gaylor of the All-American Rejects and Phil Matarese, the mind behind HBO’s Animals, and their three longtime friends, Michael Iannatto, Brian Barbaruolo, and Matt Martin, the band began under low stakes. Soon, though, their hangouts in their downtown LA practice space, which emerged as a way to let loose, grew into something deeper and more sincere. Their name conjures a gritty scene — of skeevy backroom deals, smoky clubs, and corrupt authorities. Their music, however, has more to do with time as they approach the uncertainty and dread of middle age.
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Throughout their debut full-length, HUSHMONEY deliver love songs cloaked in anxiety, disappointment, and rock ’n’ roll swagger. Right away, the first track on their self-titled, “Bad For You,” erupts with the kind of high-octane urgency that soundtracked their coming of age. From there, a whole world opens up as the band address regrets, insecurities, and, ultimately, redemption. Some of its intensity could be credited to the members’ time in bands since teenagerhood, but it also sounds like five exceedingly talented musicians who’ve known each other long enough to sling any absurd idea into the mix, like singing from a dog’s POV. Mixed and mastered by Will Yip (Turnstile, Mannequin Pussy) and featuring guest vocals from Sierra Kay, HUSHMONEY use big feelings to tell a greater story about looking inward and then into the unknown, shouting vulnerable, declarative lines about being freaked out by the future atop overblown guitars. It all results in a meaningful debut that boasts witty storytelling while eluding self-seriousness, never forgetting how much fun it is to create music with old friends.
When we asked vocalist Phil Matarese about the album in more detail, he took us behind the scenes of its making, including the origins of their name, finding cheeky ways to write about love, and what’s next.
I read that HUSHMONEY began in a low-stakes environment — just wanting to connect with friends to play music. What caused things to change? What challenged you to make the band into something more?
I’ll always be in a band and make music. It’s just a life thing that’s gonna be there until I die and join a band in heaven. What changed? I’m not sure. From the jump, we all really liked the music that was being made. It’s a fun group of dudes making a fun type of music. I’m very mission-oriented in any aspect of life — and I think that’s true for the rest of the guys. So I’m not gonna spend time in a band just to dick around. At the same time, we all keep the expectations very, very low. That balance of serious and fucking around. This band is seriously fucking around. It’s a very nice outlet from what everyone does, and you want that outlet to naturally continue. So we let it unfold. Even Chris, who is a professional musician, this is his “outlet” band.
When did you start working on your self-titled debut? What’s the meaning behind the name? It feels profoundly reflective of our current news cycle — or something you’d hear in a detective noir.
Some of these songs we’ve had kicking around since our first practices in 2021. We focused on the idea of the album for most of 2022 and recorded early 2023. Mixing and all that jazz took up most of 2023. And here we are! 2024, the last year of existence.
When we were figuring out the name for the band, I had become obsessed — positively driven by God — to name the band the Meatballs. I couldn’t get it out of my head. To me, it wasn’t funny. We’d be a serious band with a serious name — the Meatballs. Brian hated it due to some childhood name-calling, being the little Italian Jersey greaseball he is. (But we all are? Or at least 3/5 of us are.) Anywho, I believe it was Matt’s wife, Tomie, who brought up HUSHMONEY. It immediately clicked and won. Now every time I tell people the band name, they go “Great name,” and my knee-jerk reaction is to say, “But what do you think about the Meatballs?” I lost, and Brian was correct.
What I love most about “HUSHMONEY” is it immediately conjures an entire scene — multiple characters, past action, current action, emotion, lighting, scenery. We like the idea of being a world-building band, a la the world’s greatest band the Hold Steady. The self-titled album has a whole world inside of it — and we look toward expanding that with subsequent releases. As far as the news cycle goes, it sucks and is fucking up our SEO. But it’ll pass, as all does.
Given that the album is about “the faulty choices that bitter men nearing middle age can make,” what, in your eyes, must someone do to be worthy of redemption? And would you call any of these tracks “love songs,” even if they’re darker?
The story of the album is a guy looking outward, then finally looking inward, then looking out again and thinking, “Ah fuck, what am I gonna do it differently?” So to me, the battle for redemption is always inside of yourself. Life is funny. You’re born, and for 20 years you lay the foundation of who you are. From 20-30 is getting your career going. Then 30 on, you’re kinda like, “Ahhh, OK? That was a bunch of epic random sauce, but why am I the way I am?”
People battle themselves — that’s the saddest and hardest part of life. Everyone deserves love and to love themselves. This is obviously barring genuinely evil people and landlords. Landlords should be turned into mulch for all the houses they don’t actually live in. I think there’s a lot of love in the album. “Same Thing” and “Stop Me” are a bit more overt. “Alan DeBruge” is about a guy’s never-ending love for his mother. “Soul People” is a song about seeing love in the mundanity of everything.
“Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One” is a standout for me — it’s less hot-blooded rock, more standing in front of the mirror and facing your insecurities. Can you tell me more about it?
Wow, thanks. Yes, very much so. It’s about being a funny guy trying to be serious. I write comedy for my stagnant-to-failed career outside of music. I have a tendency to pack in too many jokes. But things need to breathe — to be heard and felt. In “Stop Me,” each verse begins with this candid admission, then veers quickly into a nonsensical mess. I dunno. It’s funny and embarrassing.
What’s your favorite memory of working with Will Yip? How did you get connected with him?
This was a very Postal Service situation where all communication was over email, text, and DM. I think he added Matt on IG, then I added him, and he added me back. Then we all flirted, and, bada bing bada boom, he agreed to mix the album. He’s made many of my favorite records. He leveled the whole album up in a huge way. Love you Will, let’s go Eagles.
What did you struggle to write about?
Love is always hard to nakedly speak about. It’s mawkish and gauche and too personal while being too universal. It’s a disgusting thing. But I love it. “Same Thing” was a challenge to myself to be upfront with it. Write an L-O-V-E love song. So I wrote it from the POV of a dog. Read the lyrics and it becomes quite obvious that it’s a dog talking.
Is Sierra Kay an honorary member of the band at this point, given that she performed a few shows with you at SXSW and contributed guest vocals across the album? What are some things you admire about working with her?
In my mind, Sierra is a member. She’s just fuckin’ sick. To travel and play shows with us and shoot videos means the world to me. Here’s Sierra in a nutshell: For our “Same Thing” music video shoot, she was out in Joshua Tree the night before. No one heard from her all morning. Wasn’t looking good. We were all setting up and getting ready in the parking lot of this dog park. All of a sudden, the back of a nearby box truck pops open, and Sierra comes out. She rented a truck in Joshua Tree, drove it to the park, and slept in it until the shoot. She’s a real rocker.
Now that the album’s out, what are you working toward?
Immediately writing new songs. We don’t want a huge gap again between releases. We’re always looking to play shows, tour, and make stuff. But everybody’s got real big-boy jobs they gotta tend to. But they’ll all go up in flames soon enough. I wanna put out an album every year. Maybe two years. HUSHMONEY forever.
