For Zac Farro, Going Solo Doesn’t Mean Going it Alone
What would become halfnoise began simmering in the background of Farro’s subconscious long before he stepped away from Paramore in 2010, whether Farro knew it or not. “I’ve always liked tinkering with production. It started like a long time ago by just getting into recording stuff on my own and just sampling stuff,” Farro said. As his band’s popularity skyrocketed, personal projects took a back seat to commitments like Warped Tour and the Honda Civic Tour. Then he decided to leave.
“When I stepped away from Paramore for a few years, I went on a whole journey of not doing music. I lived in New Zealand for a few years and totally checked out,” Farro said. After his most formative years were marked by abrupt changes and rigorous touring schedules, it makes sense that Farro found himself back in America with a reinvigorated love for producing and recording music — the tools that represented a time before he first hopped into that first tour van. “I wanted to try riding it on my own because I had always been a part of bands. I just wanted to see if I could do it,” he said.
For someone experienced the comradery of communal success and then the isolation of losing of community while deeply entrenched within the 2000s pop-punk space — a genre that champions themes of friendship, hometown pride, and local scenes within the lyrics — Farro’s emphasis on community even within songwriting and production should come as little surprise. There is a DIY, collaborative ethos derived from the genre’s punk precursors that has lingered within the scene in spite of the music industry’s influence as the scene reached its peak in popularity. Still, in a world like 2023, where every technological advancement and start-up app is meant to make our day to day lives as isolated as possible, Farro’s constant consideration of music as a collective is a dying language. Less people are joining bands. It’s significantly more affordable, in terms of both monetarily and socially, to produce beats alone in your bedroom than it is to get a band together. More and more often, we find ways to avoid leaning on those around us; halfnoise calls us back to a bygone era.
That isn’t to say that halfnoise is, in any way, a nostalgia play or sonically stagnant. Farro, along with the rest of the Paramore crew, has displayed an incredible knack for evolving gracefully, and successfully, in the public eye. While many artists fade to obscurity after drastic stylistic changes, Farro has made a career of constant change. No two halfnoise records sound alike. In fact, a cursory listen of the project’s discography serves as a detailed timeline of the various emotional and aesthetic states throughout the last decade of Farro’s life. City Talk ushers in the era of a 60’s surf rock inspired Farro, paired alongside an amped up version of the funk-inspired rhythm that has been a throughline in Farro’s work over the past few years. Along with the vibe shift, came new lyrical territories. “The last [record] was really personal. It was a love letter to my partner and falling in love, since I’ve always written about, you know, getting heartbroken,” he said. “I wanted [City Talk] to be a little bit more mysterious and a little less approachable.”
City Talk, like the version of Farro that wrote it, seems self-assured and at ease. The record represents an artist who has grown into themselves. “‘On My Way' is a coming of age song. After I turned 30, I was like, ‘Wow I’m finally who I am, who I’ve been chasing all my 20s,'” he said. Today, Farro is confident in his future, even when the future isn’t clear, and it’s apparent in the album. Listening to the tracks feels hopeful, introspective, proud. Where the lyrics are vague, the energy is encompassing. To portray such emotions through a pop record is a feat in itself, but a decade’s worth of halfnoise snapshots has accumulated into what may be the most holistic look into Farro’s psyche yet.
