FALSE LEFTY: Substance over mainstream – the pursuit of real art

Photo: Ina Bohnsack

FALSE LEFTY on authenticity, artistic integrity, poetic music, and the kind of art that prefers asking questions over offering easy answers.

Interview by Mia Lada-Klein

Two people, three drums, three guitar strings — that’s all it takes for FALSE LEFTY to make everything shake. Veva on drums, Tom on guitar, stripped down to the essentials but with an energy powerful enough to replace an entire orchestra. Their debut album TIME WILL TELL, released on November 28th, shows how you can create something big with minimalism.

In our conversation, everything revolves around what TRUE ART really means: attitude, authenticity, and that rare depth that makes songs not only audible, but tangible. FALSE LEFTY doesn’t believe in easy answers or polished entertainment. They leave space — space the listener is allowed to fill. And that’s exactly what makes their music so alive.

On stage, they refuse to use backing tracks, relying instead on spontaneity and the beauty of small human mistakes. Every show is different; every note a little unpredictable and that’s what they love most. Beyond music and performance, the interview also touches on the changing concert culture, social media, and the eerie world of artificial intelligence.

Anyone who wants to understand how two people with minimal equipment can build an entire world where music stays honest, unfiltered, and vibrantly alive should definitely read on.

FALSE LEFTY: Art, Attitude, and the Desire for Depth

Let’s start simple: you read all sorts of things online, but it’s always better to ask directly. You two are a couple, right?

FALSE LEFTY: Right.

Good, just wanted to make sure. Like Jack and Meg White — lots of stories, but no one ever really knows. How long have you been making music together?

FALSE LEFTY: We’ve been making music together for years. But from the very beginning, we wanted to avoid falling into clichés.

So you want to dig deeper not just touch on topics, but actually create something that resonates?

FALSE LEFTY: Exactly. If you look at bands like The Clash, Billy Bragg, or Elvis Costello — they were political, anti-racist, feminist. But they wrapped their messages in poetry, making them emotional and human. You could get lost in them. Today, that’s often missing. Like you said in one of your articles about journalism: there’s barely any space left to engage deeply with content. Art is similar and many works leave the listener with nothing to sink into. That depth, that sense of losing yourself, is what we miss. And that’s what we aim to bring back.

That reminds me of my conversation with Joshi from ZSK. A band practically synonymous with political punk. I met him during their promo phase and he was visibly exhausted. But the moment we started talking, everything became alive, honest, human. That’s when interviews and art truly matter.

FALSE LEFTY: Absolutely. It’s about encounter, about truly listening. That’s where depth comes from in music, in writing, in all creative work.

What themes influence your songwriting?

FALSE LEFTY: Many of our lyrics stay intentionally open. They’re born from conversations, observations, emotions, impressions of society. There are political layers, sure, but we want to leave room in the art itself. We don’t explain what we think or mean. People who engage with us understand what we stand for anyway.

So you want listeners to interpret freely rather than handing them a clear message?

FALSE LEFTY: Exactly. We don’t want to overexplain our art. The beauty is when a song triggers something in you without you knowing why. Good art should ask questions, not dictate answers. Bob Dylan is a great example. Everyone knows his songs are political, but he always rejected being reduced to slogans. He never said what people wanted him to say. That’s why his lyrics remain alive.

That’s a strong point, especially regarding what art is allowed or supposed to be.

FALSE LEFTY: And we also believe you shouldn’t treat the audience like they’re stupid. People know exactly what’s between the lines. And they recognize when something is honest.

One thing that struck me immediately about you is your artistic approach. Many bands make music, but you convey an entire aesthetic — almost like living inside an art project.

FALSE LEFTY: That means a lot. And yes, of course that’s also a form of self-presentation. (laughs) The visual side is deliberate. We play with how people perceive us. Sometimes it’s even a reaction to ridicule or prejudice. So yes, it has attitude. But in everything we do, clothing, stage design, music, lyrics, we’re always searching for a sense of poetry. Not clean or flawless beauty, but beauty as an expression.

So you create an aesthetic universe where everything reflects everything else?

FALSE LEFTY: Exactly and that gap between the artist and the person is part of the art.

So this distance is a necessary space for art to breathe?

FALSE LEFTY: Good art leaves gaps. It forces you to interpret, to feel, to search. There are sides of us we don’t want to show and that’s how it should be. It’s a tightrope walk between staging and truth. Of course, our lyrics contain truth, but our truth, artistically wrapped.

Speaking of staging, I saw a reel of you that reminded me of The Mamas & the Papas. Michelle Phillips once stood on stage eating a banana a cappella — it became iconic. In your video, Veva is standing outside eating something while Tom sings. It felt incredibly genuine.

FALSE LEFTY: (laughs) Yeah, that wasn’t random. We’re not supermodels, but we still like to present ourselves beautifully in our own way. The video was also a little jab: no matter what people say about us, we’re just us. Standing there, eating a fish sandwich, drinking Käfer. It’s as real as any stage pose and maybe that’s the joke.

Live, Authenticity, and Breaking with Perfection

A poetic kind of honesty, delivered with a wink and that’s the best kind of staging. Being just two people must be a bigger challenge on stage, right?

FALSE LEFTY: When there’s only two of you, the focus is completely different. Every mistake is visible, every slip-up audible. You can’t hide. And that shows in our expressions, our reactions. But that’s also what makes it exciting.

So maximum closeness to the audience, but also maximum vulnerability?

FALSE LEFTY: We celebrate that. Veva stands behind the drums and everyone sees everything. It’s a game between intimacy and staging. We show ourselves, but we also shape how we’re seen.

And you avoid backing tracks, using instruments you found cheaply on eBay. Why that approach?

FALSE LEFTY: Musically, everything is on the table. We want mistakes to be visible, not hidden. If a song runs faster or an instrument detunes, so what. That’s the authenticity of live music.

So you rely on the moment rather than perfect studio polish?

FALSE LEFTY: When we first entered the scene, we went to lots of shows and everything felt too smooth. We want our recordings to be as close to live as possible, but each performance should still be unique.

So it’s a deliberate choice against today’s sterile standards. How do you view the impact of AI on music?

FALSE LEFTY: It’s interesting if AI can do everything, maybe real art becomes what AI can’t do. Humanity, mistakes, emotions. We try to preserve that authenticity. Just yesterday we saw a reel where a musician proudly said her album was recorded by a real orchestra, not AI. That’s becoming a statement now and a fight for the real.

You spent a long time producing the album. Was it difficult to translate that honesty into the studio?

FALSE LEFTY: Very. We tried many producers. Many wanted everything perfect, tuned vocals, quantized drums. But that’s exactly what we didn’t want. We wanted the scrappy, honest sound and whether it’s the eBay bass drum or our raw way of playing.

So no compromises for the sake of “perfection”?

FALSE LEFTY: It was about capturing moments, this beautiful, human, raw moments. Not sloppy garage punk, but intentional roughness with heart and soul.

And now the album is exactly the way you wanted it?

FALSE LEFTY: Yes. We found the right people who understood our approach. The album is honest, rough, but not careless. Every mistake is part of its life.

Live Shows, Culture, and Audience Behavior

How does that translate to your live shows? Your songs don’t sound the same every night.

FALSE LEFTY: Exactly. Each show is different. The songs are recognizable, yes, but interpretation, mood, energy, everything changes.

A bit like The Mars Volta’s long jam sessions.

FALSE LEFTY: Yes, that feeling. Not about repeating perfectly, but about dynamics, interplay, spontaneity.

And you’re also a couple. Does that affect your performance?

FALSE LEFTY: Absolutely. We read each other well, small gestures, looks, signs. We improvise without speaking. That makes it intimate.

That’s impossible in big productions.

FALSE LEFTY: Totally. The more people, the harder it gets. Mars Volta mastered it — blind understanding. We try to bring that intimacy into a duo setup.

You recently toured. Many bands say it’s difficult to bring people to concerts these days. Did you notice that?

FALSE LEFTY: Surprisingly, no. Our crowds were incredibly present from the first second. It felt like a reunion, even with people we didn’t know.

But overall, it’s harder to get people out these days. Why? Is AI to blame?

FALSE LEFTY: No, it’s cultural. We’re probably the last generation that still found it cool to see small indie bands live before they blew up. Today, people pay hundreds to fly to Dublin for Oasis instead of supporting local scenes. Younger generations grew up post-Covid — many don’t even know how to experience concerts. Home feels safer.

Social Media, Audiences, and the Album

That brings us to social media. Blessing, curse, or love-hate?

FALSE LEFTY: Mostly a curse. Necessary, yes, but exhausting. We tried TikTok, Instagram, everything. But it’s not us. We’d rather rehearse.

Any upsides?

FALSE LEFTY: Sure, it’s useful to reach people. We try to keep our posts poetic and artistic. We work with great photographers and videographers. But we still wish we could just leave it behind and focus solely on music.

So you refuse to bend to the algorithms?

FALSE LEFTY: We’re not made for algorithms. We want art, not clickbait. Many artists feel overwhelmed. Some love it, but we’re in the poetic corner, not the algorithmic one.

How do you treat your audience?

FALSE LEFTY: We don’t treat them like they’re dumb. We want them to engage, think, feel. Not just consume. There are still people who value that — our audience.

So your approach is quality and substance rather than chasing the mainstream?

FALSE LEFTY: We stay true to our line, in the music, on stage, in how we present ourselves. People feel that.

Tell me about your album.

FALSE LEFTY: Hard to describe, you sit on it for so long. Like hatching an egg.

Is there a key song?

FALSE LEFTY: Yes, “Throwing Words.” The refrain says, you believe that time will tell. We thought about releasing it as a single, but it’s simply the perfect opener.

A debut album is a milestone. Excited?

FALSE LEFTY: Definitely. It’s exciting, it’s our first major artistic statement.

You’re a couple and a band. Does that mix well, or lead to conflict?

FALSE LEFTY: Much better than expected. Yes, little fights here and there, but nothing major. Band and couple are not separate. Everything flows together. If one day a big argument happens, everyone will notice. (laughs) But we still surprise each other — new ideas, melodies, rhythms. Creativity rebalances everything.

More info about the band FALSE LEFTY can be found on their socials.

Instagram YouTube Spotify Website

More Soundcheck Sessions are available on the website.

Angelo Bissanti and the Language of Metal