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⇒ Check our chat with the band here.

The four-piece, featuring Marie Gutierrez on vocals, David Ballon on guitar, Joan Torres on bass, and José Linares on drums (collaborating remotely from Puerto Rico), has great chemistry here, playing to each other’s sonic strengths, and the production is also aware of this. The mix gives everyone room to breathe without anything getting buried. The track has a real spacey quality to it – there’s weight in the riffs but also this expansive, almost atmospheric pull that keeps it from feeling like straight-up hard rock. Gutierrez is the centerpiece, though, and her high notes on “Starfire” are where the song really opens up. The production leans into that, letting those moments hit with the kind of clarity that makes them land.

With two more singles already scheduled, 6 Speed Supernova is clearly playing a longer game here. If the arc holds the same quality as “Starfire,” this comeback run is worth following through to the end.

This is a musically nutritious album. It’s incredibly harmonically adventurous, and it’s daring in its approach. It’s not a jazz album to be heard in a somber jazz bar; this is, like the name implies, an album like the “Open Plains” – it’s to be experienced with attentiveness and an open heart because it tells such rich stories with a virtuosic sense of melody and harmony. This album is living proof that one can still tell new stories with traditional musical textures, that it’s not necessary to design new sounds to tell new stories. Music in its infinite depth has infinite stories to be told, and one only needs to be truly connected spiritually to it and to the musicians engaged in the same conversation to tell the stories of our lives as they unfold. This spiritual connection to music and the power of improvisation has long been embraced by great jazz musicians, and Runa Viggen continues that trend here.

Starting with “Bury Me Standing” – this tune could be taught in a masterclass about dynamic range in composition. The way the rhythm section accompanies the piano in such a beautifully intuitive yet surprising manner is a beauty to behold. The way it evolves across the tune and the power with which the musicians return to the main head melody is breathtaking and has such intensity and vigor that perfectly complement the harmonic choices of the tune.

“The Tears of My Mother” is not a tune for the faint of heart; it will most likely make you shed some very dramatic tears, but with that being said, I still highly recommend listening to this outdoors, with the blowing of the tears away from your face – that’s at least how I imagine this song is meant to be listened to and that’s how I listened to it though it wasn’t planned. Runa Viggen has such a soft touch on the piano for this song, it’s like the piano was strung with her own heart strings. It’s so sorrowful and mournful, yet reminiscent of simpler times and sweet motherly love. There are so many personal details in here that it feels like every time I listen to the song, it says something new. It’s a truly magical performance, and I feel lucky that it has been recorded and that I get to experience it.

“Rayan” captures the attention immediately with its more playful sense of rhythm. It’s more on the side of jazz-fusion, though with none of the electric elements that are so strongly associated with that genre. The melodies here are more contemporary, with very modern melodic choices. There is so much music here, and it rides that line between carefully crafted moments and others of chemistry-driven improvised sections. The bass solo here deserves a special shoutout for adding to the melodic content tastefully with no unnecessary flash.

“Open Plains” is the kind of album that asks something of you, and pays you back generously if you meet it halfway. Viggen said she wanted to compose without genre constraints, to breathe freely – and that freedom is audible from the first track to the last. With ambár, she announced herself, and with this record, she’s made good on the promise. It’ll be worth watching where she goes from here.

Released via Geodesic Records, the band’s second full-length record unfolds less like an album and more like a current in motion. It does not pause for emphasis, nor does it organize itself around moments of climax. Instead, it moves steadily and insistently, carrying each track into the next as if interruption would mean collapse.

From the opening gesture of “Loading…,” there is already a sense that structure has been loosened. Not abandoned, but softened. “Another Castle” follows with a flicker of playfulness. Its retro, game-like references cut through the haze; yet even here, the band resists sharp edges. Everything feels slightly blurred, as if seen through movement rather than stillness. This is where Dose finds its language: in continuity.

The album’s creation process, shaped partly through live performance, partly through spontaneous studio emergence, reveals itself in how naturally the music flows. Some ideas feel worn-in, stretched over time and audience, while others arrive with the unpredictability of something discovered in the moment. The result is not contrast, but integration. Nothing feels separate enough to be isolated; everything belongs to the same evolving body.

Across tracks like “King of San Francisco” and “Temujin,” there is a grounding weight, something almost historical, or mythic;  while “Serpentine Tangerine” and “Jabberwocky” drift into a more unstable, surreal terrain. Yet even in these shifts, the current remains intact. The album does not fragment. It absorbs.

Once Sun Song emerges, there is a brief illusion of lightness, a kind of opening; only for “Dark Water” to pull the listener back under, closing the record not with resolution, but with depth.

India Tigers in Texas draw from the textures of psychedelic and garage rock: dense guitars, looping patterns, a certain rawness, but they do not linger in familiarity. There are echoes of other contemporary psych acts, yet the band avoids settling into any one lineage. Their sound feels less like a reference point and more like an ongoing process, shaped as much by instinct as by influence.

Through Dose it’s obvious that the band is listening: to both each other and to the music as it forms. Mel Mo’ Black, Jaron Hall, Kevin Barnes, and Victhor Resendiz move as a unit that does not impose direction so much as discover it together. You can hear it in the looseness, in the trust, in the absence of rigidity.

The album drifts across unexpected territories: fragments of history, flashes of psychedelic imagery, reflections from the road, even playful nods to digital worlds. None of it settles into a single narrative. Instead, it mirrors the music’s movement: associative, shifting, always in transition.

Dose does not offer itself in parts. It resists being paused, skipped, or extracted. To engage with India Tigers in Texas here is to follow the same thread that begins in “Loading…” and dissolves into “Dark Water;” a passage that refuses interruption, that insists on being lived through rather than navigated. You are here to surrender to the current!

• After the pandemic halted your 2019 momentum and prompted deep reflection during the creation of Galactic Boogaloo, what internal realizations about your role as a refuge for outcasts and misfits ultimately reignited the band’s drive to chase the next groove?

Well, the pandemic was a global event that impacted all of us. It was a time filled with uncertainty, but it was also a time that demonstrated just just how interconnected we all are. Perhaps this led each of us to reevaluate what we found meaningful. While we started Galactic Boogaloo prior to that, our desire to finish it was fueled by a need to bring people something that could unite us, something that we could talk about and enjoy as a community. However, during that time we all experienced some changes. Our needs and wants impacted our musical expression, and that’s where this new string of songs comes along. Galactic Boogaloo was perhaps a snapshot of a time where more excitement and celebration fueled the music, whereas Starfire, Lonely Godzilla, and Begin Again were fueled by a need to hold each up so that we can rebuild with synergy and continue inspire each other to do the same.

• The single Starfire draws listeners into the furthest reaches of the universal mind through its electrified riffage and tight rhythms. How did the collective songwriting process transform personal contemplations on isolation and humanity into this expansive, mind-expanding sonic landscape?

As a band we always strive to serve the song in a way that feels natural and hits us the right places. There are always some early iterations where we don’t quite know the song just yet, but as we keep playing it, recording ourselves (even if just with our phones) and listen back to the output, we begin to understand more what it is that we mean to say with each song. This in turn helps inform our next iteration of the song. Perhaps we extend verses, choruses, or shorten them. We tend to be fairly open to trying things out and then discussing how we feel about it. Thankfully because of all the years we have worked together, and the love we put into our craft, it has almost become second nature for us to respond to a musical seed with the right amount of nutrients to help it grow into full-fledged song that we feel ready to share with the world.

• Your sound has always fused jazz and progressive influences with classic rock swagger. In what specific ways did the recording sessions for Starfire allow you to push those boundaries further while preserving the raw, groove-driven energy that defines 6 Speed Supernova?

A key area where we grew during these years was on improving our workflow for recording high quality demos week to week, month to month. We recorded a lot of these parts multiple times at home, or at our rehearsal studio. This allowed us to virtually be “in the studio” for months before we actually physically went to a recording studio to make the release-ready versions of the songs. We were able to push ideas in one direction, given them a listen, and then fine-tune as needed to get them to where they truly fit and served the songs. This workflow also made it easier for us to communicate with José Linares the drummer who collaborated with us all the way in Puerto Rico to lay down those heavy beats for our songs.

• With “Lonely Godzilla” scheduled for May 4 and “Begin Again” for June 1, these sequential releases appear to signal a deliberate new era. What narrative or sonic arc connects the three tracks, and how do they collectively represent your “Renaissance” following global turmoil?

We certainly feel like it’s a new era. We more deliberately worked on cementing our storytelling and almost theatrical approach to our music while working through these songs and the narrative arc pretty much revealed itself naturally. We didn’t want to take the songs where they didn’t want to go to fit a story so we were fortunate when it all lined up the way it did.

Pre-order “Starfire” on Bandcamp.

The story itself feels like it’s one about rebirth. In fact, we debated started with Begin Again because of how strongly that topic feels for this era of 6 Speed Supernova. One that’s about accepting the past, lighting a flame in your creative engine, and rebuilding the things that we love and make us feel whole.  In that sense it made more sense musically and story-wise to start with “Starfire“. That songs sets the stage for us facing our fears and standing up for ourselves, our dreams and visions. “Lonely Godzilla” explores more how that path can be a long and isolating one filled with doubt and misunderstandings from others. When it really comes down to it, we are artists who long to be creative. Those emotions might delay us, but we were always going to “Begin Again.”

This arc represents our shared concerns that with so many terrible things going on with the world, why would people care about art? when would they even have time for it? We know one simple thing. We care about art, not just ours, but those from our favorite artists. We know their art helps us deal with adversity and we figure we could do the same for ourselves and others.

• The band’s ethos emphasizes providing an oasis for those who feel invisible. How do you envision the themes in Starfire and the forthcoming tracks resonating with audiences in live settings, particularly as venues reopen and communities seek connection once more?

I think we envision Starfire becoming anthemic. This is the kind of song with a big chorus that a large crowd could sing in unison and feel connected to its lyrics. Then again, even if you don’t feel comfortable doing that and you prefer to air-drum or air-guitar the parts, there’s probably something in there for you to let lose and join in on the fun. There’s something freeing about being at a concert and feeling yourself wanting to mime a part of the song you find iconic and realizing some of people around are doing the exact same thing. It’s not weird. It’s encouraged! There’s no need to feel self-conscious. We are all here to enjoy ourselves however we want! The upcoming songs have many of those same qualities, but touching on different layers and different moods.

• Looking beyond these initial 2026 releases, what larger projects or collaborative explorations are you developing-whether a full album, expanded touring, or new sonic territories-to continue serving as a voice in the silence and a light in times of apathy?

We may or may not have a full narrative for a concept album that may or may not include these releases. We’ll just have to wait and see. That might feel like a tease, but we do also want to be genuine with these choices and not do it because we committed to it even though it might not feel right anymore. We do hope these release will help us find new audiences that we can go perform for in cities we haven’t been to. We know there are people out there who don’t yet know they’d love to see us live.

Come what may, as bandmembers we continue being part of each other’s support group. A lot of our song ideas have come from “obscure sorrows” that we shared with each other unaware that it was a common issue we shared, but perhaps had no name or word for. For example, the feeling of being in the middle of a great meal, dinner party, movie, song, book and realizing that you’re really enjoying it all the while being well-aware that it’ll end. What do we even call that feeling? It’s a very human experience, but not one we seem to like acknowledging very often. We constantly dive deeper into those kinds of sorrows in order to create a score of what this emotion could be and gain more empathy, understanding, and mental wellbeing in the process. We believe music is able to do that, and what better vehicle than heavily-infused Jazzy-Prog Rock music that falls from the cosmos as if ignited by a supernova of the collective unconscious? That is how we serve each other in our band microcosm and by doing so serve all of those who feel similarly but don’t have the outlet we do.

• Your professional life as a chip designer has run parallel to decades of musical creation, from choral singing—including a performance with Pavarotti—to composing across disparate styles. How has this dual existence informed your ability to move fluidly between genres without feeling constrained by any single tradition?

There’s that whole popular myth about a connection between math and music, but I don’t think that’s what defines me. I grew up with a house full of classical, pop, and jazz, which my parents enjoyed equally, and I was also a clever boy with science. Then there came prog rock and jazz fusion – ELP, Yes, Mahavishnu Orchestra, Return to Forever – and it was for me like, “Aha! You can mix all these together and it works!” In high school I started building my own synth from scratch. So my creative impulses span all that space.

• After a Fashion deliberately draws from influences spanning Ella Fitzgerald, Marvin Gaye, and Toro y Moi, yet coalesces into a cohesive whole. What guided your approach to weaving these disparate references into a unified statement that feels both contemporary and timeless?

Well, thank you for the ups! It was a matter of patience – or maybe impatience. During the second half of 2025 I had a few songs like Put a Scarf and Could Happen in the can, but I waited for other ideas to coalesce to flesh out a full album. I could have done a full dreampop album if I went long enough, but I embraced the mix of idioms that I was working with at the time.

• The album’s thematic core examines the “scary edges of romance” amid a fearful present. In what ways did global events and personal reflection shape the lyrical undercurrents across tracks such as “Man on a Wire” and “Blow Me Away”?

The key idea came from Ella’s Isn’t It Romantic, which I heard in my head not simply as a lovey-dovey ballad, but as being full of doubt, shadows, and strange voices. So I change the setting to use mysterious tone clusters and disjointed percussion and bass. Aside from that, the awfulness blaring from the news recently seeped into my mind and personal relationships big time. Thus “Go Out Tonight” takes what could have been a joyful Motown dance tune and say, hey, yeah, go clubbing, but make sure you know where the exit doors are. My family was actually recently trapped in a theater while police cleared a street action outside! Every song has some element of uncertainty, confusion, or wildly overblown emotions. Man on a Wire is mostly a peppy 80’s style recitation of famous books and movies starting with “Man” or “Woman” but then minor chords and tone clusters appear, and the lyrics turn into discord between a couple. Blow Me Away is about letting someone else dictate my emotions, taking advantage of my lost state.

• As both sole producer and primary instrumentalist—augmented only by select guest vocalists—how did the self-contained recording process allow you to realize the album’s intricate layering of MIDI elements, synth textures, and organic instrumentation in a way that earlier collaborative projects could not?

Again, thanks for noticing! I mostly start with my own beats, guitars, bass, and keyboards, but I also made use of some new plugins I discovered and some drum loops that were more authentic than I could generate. I really try to emulate great producers who can pull off complexity on a track without turning it into mush. But I know my limitations, so that’s where the collaboration comes in – like when I needed kick-ass vocalists for a couple songs.

• Songs like “Could Happen (2025 version)” and “Little Queen (Crown Pleaser version)” suggest a revisiting or refinement of prior material. What prompted these specific reimaginings, and how do they illustrate the album’s broader meditation on style as both approximation and literal expression?

“Could Happen” is one of my Cocteau Twins tribute songs. It’s definitely less dark than the other tracks, but it’s about recovering from a dark place lovers got into. The funk track, Little Queen (no relation to Heart’s!) is super upbeat, but it’s also about the danger of a relationship where there’s a huge power disparity.

• The title After a Fashion carries dual meanings of approximation and personal style. How does this concept encapsulate your refusal to be confined by labels, and in what manner does the record serve as a deliberate statement of artistic freedom at this stage of your career?

The third meaning is the acknowledgement that I’m basically a dilettante! I am just a suburban industry outsider borrowing a lot from original musical idioms. Being self-funded and self-produced means I can just put out what interests me and hope it resonates.

• Collaborations with local artists such as Paul Paternoster, Patrick Ames, and Chana Matthews have been a consistent thread since 2022. In what ways did those experiences prepare the ground for the fully autonomous yet outwardly expansive approach taken on After a Fashion?

Working with these awesome folks, we can be each other’s first audience. There’s peril in sitting alone in my studio with only those walls as the horizon.

• With After a Fashion now released, what new compositional directions or collaborative formats are you pursuing next, and how do you envision these future works continuing to explore the tension between technical precision and untethered musical curiosity?

I’ll be recording a fairly major work for chorus and synth pipe organ in May. Also, a while back I really wanted to develop a new kind of music platform that allowed people to play with artists’ stems and easily create and share their own versions of their songs. Maybe I’ll revisit that for a piece or two, because it is both a technical and compositional challenge.

• Your career has interwoven songwriting with filmmaking, including acclaimed projects such as the feature films Nuts! The Musical and Ivan and Craig. How has this dual expertise influenced your shift toward creating audio dramas like Until the House Falls, and in what manner does it distinguish your musical output from conventional album formats?

When I initially started working on this project, I thought I was setting out to write another micro-budget musical film.  It wasn’t until writing the 2nd draft that I started to feel like this project might work better as a radio play.

Because of that, I wrote the script in the same way I would write a film. Obviously once I ended up making the decision to do it as a radio play there were a few things that were originally to be ‘seen’ that now had to be explicitly stated, but otherwise, the structure of the story, the characters and the songs are exactly the same.

The biggest difference between this project and conventional albums (or even most concept albums for that matter) is that I have included all the scenes that connect the songs together. So there’s dialogue, sound effects and that sort of thing.

• The genesis of Until the House Falls stemmed from sheltering during a tornado that impacted your neighborhood. How did this real-world event evolve into the album’s narrative framework, particularly in depicting the protagonist Brad Stevens’ ascent amid personal and communal ruin?

Before the tornado hit I was kind of toying around with a story about a guy who rises to power while concealing a dark secret. I had some song sketches and a few connecting ideas but I wasn’t really sure exactly where the story was headed yet. When the tornado hit near our neighborhood that’s when I started to put it all together. “What if this guy begins his rise to power as the result of a tragedy?” And the story kind of took off from there.

• As a self-contained project where you handled writing, composing, producing, arranging, and directing, what distinctive challenges arose in orchestrating the radio play’s eccentric score—characterized by funky melodies, odd time signatures, and quirky lyrics—while ensuring seamless integration with the dramatic scenes?

Orchestrating the score was one of the most fun and least challenging parts of the process for me. I love working on big, funky pieces of all sorts and styles. I really enjoy arranging the different parts each instrument will play as well as working the characters’ musical themes into multiple places throughout the score.

The most challenging part of a big project like this is producing everything. Scheduling, all the technical stuff, etc.

• The album draws stylistic parallels to Italian Commedia dell’arte and early exploitation films by directors like John Waters and Russ Meyer. In what ways did these inspirations manifest in the character dynamics, such as the interactions between Brad Stevens, his wife Mary Ann, and the truth-seeking Paul Warren?

Initially I had actually considered filming this story as a traditional Commedia dell’arte set in modern times. So yeah, in early drafts of the script the characters were a lot closer to their masked archetypes. As I developed the script further and decided not to shoot it as a film the Commedia dell’arte thing became less important, but In some places, I think it’s pretty apparent where the initial ideas for the characters came from. There’s still quite a bit of Pantalone in Brad Stevens for example.

I think the stylistic parallels to the exploitation films are mostly felt in the ridiculous situations the characters find themselves in and the way they speak to one another. I wasn’t going for realism, I was going for those over-the-top and campy type of reactions you’d see in early exploitation films.

• Featuring a talented ensemble including Ambie nominee Aud Andrews as Brad Stevens and long-time collaborator Tyler Robins as Paul Warren, how did the casting and vocal performances enhance the album’s thematic exploration of concealment, ambition, and eventual confrontation?

Casting is a huge part of whether a project like this works or not. I couldn’t be more pleased with the performances from this amazing cast.  It was always such a treat to hear their takes on the material. Oftentimes after we’d finished laying down vocals for a track I’d think, “Wow, this is way better than I was imagining!” In case you can’t tell I’m pretty pumped about the performances in this one.

• The release structure divides the content into four comprehensive radio play parts followed by isolated song tracks like “Tornado!” and “It’s Not Raining Today (Finale)”. What considerations guided this format to accommodate both immersive storytelling and standalone listening preferences?

I just figured it would be easier on the listener that way. I wanted the listener to have a simple way to go back and hear a specific song without having to scrub through the whole play to find it.

However, that is a consideration only for streaming. On the vinyl version the play is just broken up into the 4 parts which correspond to the 4 sides of a double album.

• Influences such as Frank Zappa’s Joe’s Garage and The Kinks’ Preservation Acts 1 and 2 are evident in the album’s multi-genre mosaic. How did these precedents inform your approach to blending progressive folk rock with vaudeville and musical theater to convey a spectrum of emotions from playful to devastating?

Ray Davies has been a hero of mine since I was a teenager. Muswell Hillbillies was the first lp I ever bought and I feel like listening to The Kinks really helped start me on my musical path. Zappa is a huge inspiration as well. I remember the first time I heard some songs from Sheik Yerbouti I thought to myself “Who is this? This is one of the best things I’ve ever heard.” It was literally love at first listen. There’s only a handful of musicians I can say that about.

I didn’t directly try to make something along the same lines as what they were doing, but their music is such an integral part of my musical ‘identity’ that I’m sure hints of their styles probably come through unintentionally.

Another concept album I discovered after recording this project is one called A Lot of People Would Like to See Armand Schaubroeck … DEAD. Really enjoyed that one as well.

• Building on the success of your debut album Small Talk, which garnered recognition from Rolling Stone Germany, how does Until the House Falls represent a maturation in your thematic depth and narrative ambition within the indie and quirky rock landscapes?

I’m not sure if maturation is the right word. Maybe it is? I mean, I just keep working in whatever direction feels right at the time. Maybe there’s some “maturation in narrative ambition” like you say, but I just think of Until the House Falls as a completely different project with a completely different set of ambitions.

• With Until the House Falls marking your inaugural audio drama, what potential expansions or adaptations—such as stage productions or visual media integrations—do you envision for this project in the near term?

None in the near future that I can foresee. If some door opens to make it into something visual down the line then, hey, who knows. But right now I’m not really thinking of making it into anything other than what it already is.

• Following this release, what forthcoming endeavors are you pursuing, whether in music, film, or hybrid formats, and how might they extend the eccentric originality and storytelling prowess demonstrated here?

Whenever I’m asked this question the answer is usually the same: I’m working on quite a bit. However, I’m never really sure which parts of what I’m working on will see the light of day until the next project is at least halfway done. It’s like shooting a roll of pictures. You shoot 36 and you aren’t sure which 3 or 4 are going to turn into something interesting until you’ve developed them.  So to answer your question in terms of that metaphor: “I’m just shooting some pictures at the moment and we will see what comes out.”

Falconshield are known for their video game-inspired songs. I have been personally following them for over a decade, when they started with the “This Is War” multi-part series of songs that were based on characters from the game “League Of Legends”. They have evolved immensely throughout the years, and the production and musicality of the compositions have improved greatly.

In “DEATHLESS” the Swedish group stretches their creativity by taking inspiration from the game’s own killer soundtrack and adapting it to their unique style. They merge elements from progressive rock, such as different shifting time signatures and an evolving BPM, as a tongue-in-cheek reference to the main antagonist of the game, Chronos, the titan of time. This compositional choice doesn’t seem tacked-on; the music flows like time itself and it doesn’t feel disruptive to have that many changes.

The guitar riffs and backing vocals that carry the harmony and rhythm section make the song feel alive, and the lyrics, which have always been Falconshield’s strong suit, tell the story of the game without feeling like it’s copying exact dialogue from the game. It’s a mirror to the narrative structure of the game itself, which is done tastefully in musical form.

It doesn’t seem like Falconshield will be slowing down any time soon. They continue to prove their resilience after an entire decade of releasing videogame inspired music. They have a unique voice, and they are a must listen for anyone who follows any of the games they cover.

This form of eccentric originality, void-like depth of drama and theme, and genuine storytelling are par for the course for Wilson. After all, he is recognized as the winner of top awards at multiple film festivals for his feature films ‘Nuts! The Musical’ and ‘Ivan and Craig’. Out on November 22nd, “Until the House Falls” could be compared to works such as Frank Zappa’s Joe’s Garage or The Kinks’ Preservation Acts 1 and 2. Listeners can expect a frenzied and exciting fusion of Progressive Folk Rock, Musical Theater, Indie, Quirky Rock, Vaudeville and Alternative influences forming one interconnected mosaic.

Written, composed, produced, arranged, and directed by Benjamin Dean Wilson, Until the House Falls showcases this ‘one of one’ writer’s unique artistic vision. In essence, Benjamin Dean Wilson shows that humanity will always long for inspiration and elation that can only come from connecting with genuine stories. And the story unfolding here ranges from devastating to playful, dark and dramatic to joyful and rousing.

The plot focuses on Brad Stevens (portrayed by Ambie nominee Aud Andrews). After a tornado devastates his family and home, Brad rises to prominence in his home town. Brad tries to conceal from the public the secret behind his success, but one young man is determined to bring the truth to light.

The play also includes a colorful cast of supporting characters such as Brad’s new trophy wife Mary Ann Stevens (Alex Furness), his ambitious new hire and mistress in training Isabel Chase (Dana Kluczyk), the charming personal trainer Mike (Sam Eisenbaum), and Paul Warren, the young man who is intent on uncovering Brad’s dark secret (long time Wilson collaborator, Tyler Robins). The radio play blends stylistic elements of Italian Commedia dell’arte and early exploitation films by filmmakers such as John Waters and Russ Myer.

The eccentric musical score is filled with funky melodies, odd time signatures, and clever, quirky lyrics.

The digital release of the album is divided into two sections. The first four tracks contain the four parts of the radio play, featuring both the songs and all associated scenes from the play.  The following eleven tracks present the individual songs isolated from the play, allowing listeners the convenience of enjoying each song on its own.

“This radio play was inspired by my experience sheltering from a tornado in my closet. Although the tornado touched down a few miles away, it still caused damage to several houses in my neighborhood. The next day I was talking with a friend of mine who said, ‘I can totally see you writing a play about this or something.”  “Good idea,” I thought. And that evening, once we had finished picking up the debris, I started writing what would become the first song of the play.”

 

This form of eccentric originality, void-like depth of drama and theme, and genuine storytelling are par for the course for Wilson. After all, he is recognized as the winner of top awards at multiple film festivals for his feature films ‘Nuts! The Musical’ and ‘Ivan and Craig’. Out on November 22nd, “Until the House Falls” could be compared to works such as Frank Zappa’s Joe’s Garage or The Kinks’ Preservation Acts 1 and 2. Listeners can expect a frenzied and exciting fusion of Progressive Folk Rock, Musical Theater, Indie, Quirky Rock, Vaudeville and Alternative influences forming one interconnected mosaic.

Written, composed, produced, arranged, and directed by Benjamin Dean Wilson, Until the House Falls showcases this ‘one of one’ writer’s unique artistic vision. In essence, Benjamin Dean Wilson shows that humanity will always long for inspiration and elation that can only come from connecting with genuine stories. And the story unfolding here ranges from devastating to playful, dark and dramatic to joyful and rousing.

The plot focuses on Brad Stevens (portrayed by Ambie nominee Aud Andrews). After a tornado devastates his family and home, Brad rises to prominence in his home town. Brad tries to conceal from the public the secret behind his success, but one young man is determined to bring the truth to light.

The play also includes a colorful cast of supporting characters such as Brad’s new trophy wife Mary Ann Stevens (Alex Furness), his ambitious new hire and mistress in training Isabel Chase (Dana Kluczyk), the charming personal trainer Mike (Sam Eisenbaum), and Paul Warren, the young man who is intent on uncovering Brad’s dark secret (long time Wilson collaborator, Tyler Robins). The radio play blends stylistic elements of Italian Commedia dell’arte and early exploitation films by filmmakers such as John Waters and Russ Myer.

The eccentric musical score is filled with funky melodies, odd time signatures, and clever, quirky lyrics.

The digital release of the album is divided into two sections. The first four tracks contain the four parts of the radio play, featuring both the songs and all associated scenes from the play.  The following eleven tracks present the individual songs isolated from the play, allowing listeners the convenience of enjoying each song on its own.

“This radio play was inspired by my experience sheltering from a tornado in my closet. Although the tornado touched down a few miles away, it still caused damage to several houses in my neighborhood. The next day I was talking with a friend of mine who said, ‘I can totally see you writing a play about this or something.”  “Good idea,” I thought. And that evening, once we had finished picking up the debris, I started writing what would become the first song of the play.”

This form of eccentric originality, void-like depth of drama and theme, and genuine storytelling are par for the course for Wilson. After all, he is recognized as the winner of top awards at multiple film festivals for his feature films ‘Nuts! The Musical’ and ‘Ivan and Craig’. Out on November 22nd, “Until the House Falls” could be compared to works such as Frank Zappa’s Joe’s Garage or The Kinks’ Preservation Acts 1 and 2. Listeners can expect a frenzied and exciting fusion of Progressive Folk Rock, Musical Theater, Indie, Quirky Rock, Vaudeville and Alternative influences forming one interconnected mosaic.

Written, composed, produced, arranged, and directed by Benjamin Dean Wilson, Until the House Falls showcases this ‘one of one’ writer’s unique artistic vision. In essence, Benjamin Dean Wilson shows that humanity will always long for inspiration and elation that can only come from connecting with genuine stories. And the story unfolding here ranges from devastating to playful, dark and dramatic to joyful and rousing.

The plot focuses on Brad Stevens (portrayed by Ambie nominee Aud Andrews). After a tornado devastates his family and home, Brad rises to prominence in his home town. Brad tries to conceal from the public the secret behind his success, but one young man is determined to bring the truth to light.

The play also includes a colorful cast of supporting characters such as Brad’s new trophy wife Mary Ann Stevens (Alex Furness), his ambitious new hire and mistress in training Isabel Chase (Dana Kluczyk), the charming personal trainer Mike (Sam Eisenbaum), and Paul Warren, the young man who is intent on uncovering Brad’s dark secret (long time Wilson collaborator, Tyler Robins). The radio play blends stylistic elements of Italian Commedia dell’arte and early exploitation films by filmmakers such as John Waters and Russ Myer.

The eccentric musical score is filled with funky melodies, odd time signatures, and clever, quirky lyrics.

The digital release of the album is divided into two sections. The first four tracks contain the four parts of the radio play, featuring both the songs and all associated scenes from the play.  The following eleven tracks present the individual songs isolated from the play, allowing listeners the convenience of enjoying each song on its own.

“This radio play was inspired by my experience sheltering from a tornado in my closet. Although the tornado touched down a few miles away, it still caused damage to several houses in my neighborhood. The next day I was talking with a friend of mine who said, ‘I can totally see you writing a play about this or something.”  “Good idea,” I thought. And that evening, once we had finished picking up the debris, I started writing what would become the first song of the play.”