Q&A: Growing Recklessly With Fake Dad
“I’M NOT LIVING IN YOUR DREAM” — frontwoman Andrea de Varona asserts on Fake Dad’s latest single, “Imaginary Friend.” Produced in collaboration with Ricky Berotti (Anna Shoemaker), a feel-good mix of guitar riffs, lively drums, and bold lyrics (“If you don’t agree, then you better fuck off me”) make for an invigorating track detailing an outgrown relationship and the determination of moving forward with confidence.
Fake Dad is composed of de Varona and Josh Ford, the pair of whom have been creating together since 2020. The duo presents an approachable position on music, describing the band as “always there to give you a friendly pat on the back and a warm cup of cocoa after a long, hard day.”
With “Imaginary Friend,” they encourage listeners to adopt growth in unfamiliar situations rather than hesitate in fear. Experiences of the past, whether they be bygone relationships or mindsets, are readjusted from things corporeal to things imaginary: “You’re just an imaginary friend (never see your face again).” Faint synth sounds establish a mellow undertone beneath the track’s high energy, allowing for a moment of reflection and closure.
Read our conversation below with de Varona and Ford as they discuss their move to LA from New York, how they create their bright sound, and how “Imaginary Friend” signifies a change in their musical focus.
LUNA: Last time you caught up with Luna, you talked about “How Do I Cry?” and a lot has changed for you since then, such as moving to LA. “Imaginary Friend” even makes a reference to moving to the West Coast. Do you feel that these recent changes have contributed to the uplifting direction of this single?
FORD: I think so. I feel like it’s all part of a larger shift in our attitude as creatives and creators. I think that “How Do I Cry” marked a big shift in the way that we think about what we make and the way that we go about trying to achieve our goals for the band. All of that has led to the shift in sound that you hear in “Imaginary Friend,” as well as to the mindset shift that ultimately led to us moving to LA in the first place. I feel like it is more of an LA sound.
DE VARONA: Funny note about that, consistent feedback we got from people [on “How Do I Cry?”] was [that we have] an LA sound. I’m born and raised in Miami so maybe there are some overlaps there. It’s interesting. Before we even made the move, it was kind of seeping into the sound. At the core of what Fake Dad is, it’s the indie, lo-fi, rock sound that’s very much East Coast. But since “How Do I Cry?” in solidifying our sound, we kind of also adopted more pop elements.
FORD: It almost feels like if “How Do I Cry?” marked the beginning of our desire to change our lifestyle and our attitude towards the music we make, then “Imaginary Friend” exists very much within those changes having been made.
LUNA: It’s a dance track, yet it discusses significant changes in one’s life that can be overwhelming. This very well could have been a more melancholic track, but in Fake Dad fashion, you’ve made it exhilarating. In your music generally, what’s the process of creation for you when you decide on highlighting the positive? It can oftentimes be easier to wallow but you make it triumphant.
DE VARONA: I think it’s the result of how our lyrics tend to tackle more serious subjects with a little bit of a darker side, but the sound and the production tend to be more on the bright side. I think it’s also a reflection of our dynamic.
FORD: Definitely a product of the partnership. I think it’d be an oversimplification to say that I’m bringing the positivity and [Andrea’s] bringing the seriousness. They get mixed together. But Andrea writes most of the lyrics and she's drawing from some really serious stuff, but some of our favorite music is able to tackle those things in a way that still feels fun.
Our favorite kind of music is the kind you don't really realize is sad or emotional until you listen really closely. I think there’s a lot of power in the ability to share something really intimate and make it feel kind of cathartic instead of depressing.
DE VARONA: As creators, we’ve sought to create things that captured the feeling that made us want to make music together in the first place. As for the creative process, with “Imaginary Friend” specifically, we started with the beat, the guitar, and we had the drums down. The drums exist in the final recording as live drums, but when we were first writing the song, they were all electronic drums.
FORD: That’s a good point — this is sort of a new wave song. New wave songs, like The Cure, The Smiths, and Joy Division, all rock and are kind of dance songs, but they’re so depressing. They’re made by people [who] are so sad (laughs). That feels like it’s consistent with the genre that we wanted to draw from.
DE VARONA: And we love the tropes that Josh mentioned, which heavily lean on the instrumental production. Something I’ve noticed as a non-male creator is that all those bands we named, presumably the person writing the lyrics and the person singing is a white dude. Maybe the subjects they’re tackling aren’t as inclusive or as current with what some people would like to hear. So, [we’re] trying to bring a different perspective within that genre.
LUNA: You also share a lot of your home and your day-to-day life on social media, which adds to your comforting sound and your push for individuality. When did you decide in your music journey to be this friendly figure? The bands you mentioned might create in the same genre, but they come off as comforting figures in the same way.
FORD: I guess it feels more authentic.
DE VARONA: Yeah. We’re also a couple so it feels like a more real representation of who we are as people. As a kid, I always looked up to and was intrigued by the kind of artists that had an air of mystique.
FORD: You feel like you could never be them.
DE VARONA: I used to want to come off that way, but I’ve found ways to bring that element maybe more so in our live setting. But still, our brand is very much friendly and fun. There’s also so much music out there, and I feel like when something is being presented to you as a person, a potential friend trying to connect with you, that feels more sincere. It’s like offering them something that they can actually understand more personally.
FORD: People have such a deep need for connection and so much of our engagement with music is built around that desire for connection. I have a lot of respect for artists [who] want to be that kind of above-you, ethereal, untouchable, mysterious character. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. It’s just that the artists I have connected to the most are trying to deconstruct that barrier. The only thing that differentiates us from the person listening to the music is that we’re the ones making it and they’re the ones listening to it.
LUNA: And someone else who’s all over your socials is Enzo. Please tell me about him (laughs). He’s on the cover art, after all.
FORD: So we had this idea months ago, and it just worked out perfectly with this song. We had the idea before “Imaginary Friend” even existed, of doing a serious, Fleetwood Mac–style photoshoot where the only weird thing would be this really unsettling monster. It’s almost like he’s like in the band. As we were writing “Imaginary Friend,” we were like, “That's perfect for this.”
DE VARONA: From the beginning, it was important for us with this entity to be a balance of scary and very cute (laughs).
FORD: You know how sometimes mascot costumes at amusement parks look like they were trying to be comforting and endearing but they failed, and that’s what’s creepy about it. That’s what we wanted for this. We looked at a ton of costumes and we needed something that didn’t look specifically like one animal. Imaginary friends aren’t just a bear or a bunny. It’s not quite one thing. Everyone who looks at [Enzo] is like, “Is it a bear? Is it a chipmunk?” It’s just a guy.
So [in the suit] was our old friend Ian, who I’ve known since I was, like, three. Bless his heart, we did this long shoot day in Malibu Creek State Park and he was in this costume with no eye holes. Originally the costume was a rental, and we ended up using it for a lot of social media content. We were thinking about this idea of having him in our apartment and it’s like he’s never the main focus of the video. He’s just in the background and continuing the bit of the cover shoot. We came up with the name Enzo because we looked up the least popular baby names of 2023.
DE VARONA: He was brought into this world with the intention of just being on this cover, but he’s still around. So “Imaginary Friend” is part of our EP that’s coming out in the fall, and I guess we’ll see the role that Enzo plays in that.
LUNA: The track empowers listeners to move forward and let things, people, and places of the past stay in the past. What’s a metaphoric “imaginary friend” you’re leaving behind?
DE VARONA: The song was originally about a very close childhood friendship that faded away over time.
FORD: I guess for me it’s just the life that I used to live in New York. That’s where Andrea and I met, and we were very much kids when we met, and we grew up together, became new people together, and we were there during COVID. It felt like we couldn’t embrace who we were trying to become until we moved somewhere new.
DE VARONA: I think for me it’s not so much leaving behind, but also starting anew. Moving to the West Coast was the very first decision I made separate from my family that felt deeply right for me. I went to school in New York and had family there even though I was born and lived most of my life in Miami. So going to New York wasn’t fully my decision. So for me, it marks independence and letting go of the fear that I can’t make decisions on my own.
FORD: That’s it. That’s the imaginary friend. The fear of making decisions for yourself (laughs). The song is largely about the moment of fearlessly making a huge life decision. It’s about leaving somebody behind, but it’s also about making this big life change for ourselves. It’s so easy to be afraid and make decisions based on fear, but it’s about giving yourself permission to grow recklessly.
