After the parade: ‘I was piecing together the world of the album and Defunctland was in my orbit’

Sydney-based artist After the parade has released a second, self-titled album, inspired by the beauty of defunct theme park rides in his diaristic and poignant songwriting.

After the parade is the creative project of Jack R. Reilly and the new album marks a follow up to 2020’s Middle Everything. ‘In Disneyland, Paris, they have a parade during the day,’ he said. ‘I enjoy the imagery of what happens after the parade, what is left. In Sydney, we’ve got the annual Mardi Gras parade. Obviously it’s an amazing event and everything but one year me and my friend were there and we saw when the parade was over that it looked like carnage all over the streets, with rubbish and all sorts of stuff. It’s reflecting on something that’s good comes to an end.’

Reilly recently made the change from pre-school teacher to university lecturer, teaching Early Childhood Education and Aboriginal Education and took a short break between the two to ramp up his songwriting, creating this album: ‘Since having two careers, I took some time out in 2020 after the release of my first album to have two weeks off and treat writing music as if it was my job,’ he said. ‘I didn’t set out to write an album specifically. I wanted to write 88 songs (laughs). I took two weeks off and I did that! During that songwriting process, Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers came out. It really lured me into the idea of an album having a story and a narrative arc, so I started to piece the songs that I’d written together in a narrative form. Maybe not even necessarily ten of the best technically written songs but the ones that best told the story. What I loved about Punisher was that it really felt like I was stepping into a world. That’s what I wanted to do as well. We were in lockdown but I was finding a lot of comfort in a YouTube channel called Defunctland, a documentary series about defunct theme park rides. It’s pretty cool, I really enjoyed learning about them.’

‘Whether I’m looking at Kevin Smith movies or other books that I’ve read, I always use them as a starting point and tell my own story through the allegory of those stories’

That was his “light bulb” moment for the album, although creative stimuli that inspire him have often underpinned his songs: ‘Whether I’m looking at Kevin Smith movies or books that I’ve read, I always use them as a starting point and tell my own story through the allegory of those stories,’ he said. ‘I was piecing together the world of the album and Defunctland was in my orbit.’

Reilly was drawn to the dark, thematic rides that Defunctland drew attention to: ‘They put a lot of effort into constructing that world and the fun of the ride is your immersion in it,’ he said. ‘I was interested in exploring that but also in the idea that it’s a mutually agreed upon lie that we’re both engaged in it. So turning your head left or right and seeing reality but also being immersed in the story, that’s what I was playing with there.’

‘Rain’ is an evocative opener, you can almost smell the rain and feel transported into the song, which features a striking MEL9 guitar pedal, which synthesises a mellotron: ‘It was the first in a series of songs where it was 50% stream of consciousness and 50% laboured on the intensive lyrics,’ he said. ‘The first verse came out really quickly and then I laboured on the chorus and the second verse for months trying to get it right (laughs). It’s an exploration of trying to be mindful, when you pay attention to big moments and miss the little things. You can’t really focus on everything at once. I was walking home from work one day in the summer, the humidity was really high. It was really hot and when the rain came, it actually brought steam up off the road! I was listening to a lot of Elliot Smith at the time, I wanted it to have a lilting feel.’

‘I get inspired so infrequently, it’s like being struck by lightning, I have to keep the door open at all times!’

Peppered throughout his discography are things like a reference to a vintage Jaws The Ride, which he makes sit seamlessly alongside vulnerable, intimate tales. Every song unfolds with a flourish and a knowing wink or two. ‘Some Things’ on the album reminds me of The Whitlams, it’s a reflective, heartfelt and thought-provoking folk track. ‘I like that one too,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘That one was early on in the writing, it came pretty quick. It’s a similar theme to the rest of it, examining things that you believe are true and how your perceptions or experience colour that in sometimes but it doesn’t necessarily make them any less valid. Your truth and my truth might be the same or it might be different. For the production of that one, the reference point was ‘The Rip’ by Portishead. If you listen to that song, you can see the same production arc that happens throughout my song as well. I get inspired so infrequently (laughs), it’s like being struck by lightning, I have to keep the door open at all times! I’m not always thinking “I’m really inspired, I want to write about something”. It’s more that I’m just constantly writing and I try to remove the ego from it and say what’s on my mind.’

Typically, Reilly writes his songs on an acoustic guitar. ‘That’s the thing with being a solo artist. You have a bit of license to do whatever you want but that’s actually a hard thing as well because the songs don’t really exist in any form (laughs). If I was playing in a band, it would be that the band has written a song. Whereas with this, it kind of exists in the air until it’s finished.’

He jokes that he started playing the guitar when he was 11 or 12 but that there was ‘no reason whatsoever’ why he should have been playing music: ‘I just liked music. Do you know the band Frenzal Rhomb (a punk rock band from Sydney)? I saw them perform and that changed my life. I knew that I wanted to do music because I saw them do their thing way before I could play music or anything, that’s just how I started living. I’ve been influenced by a lot of musicians – The Ramones, Bright Eyes and Bloc Party. It’s all a feeling, really. It’s like communication in a new sense, it’s less about the style, it’s more about how it makes you feel when you listen to it, anything that invokes a feeling of connection.’ 

I ask if he’s ever met any of his musical heroes: ‘Lindsay from Frenzal Rhomb and I know each other pretty well, when I’m feeling bold, I’d say we’re friends (laughs). I have also met Kele from Bloc Party; Mike Kinsella from Owen American Football, I toured with Into It. Over It. I’ve struck up a really fulfilling communicative relationship with Kevin Devine – we played a show together when he was in Sydney once. But, he was also a huuuuuuge inspiration and influence on me; still now but particularly when I was starting out. He opened a festival here in Australia called Harvest Festival and his set was so inspiring. He was really striking with his ability to convey the punk rock energy in a solo acoustic setting that didn’t seem gimmicky or forced. His voice was so vulnerable but so strong as well, it was great! We chat to each other from time to time. The best show I’ve ever played was at the Metro Theatre in Sydney opening for Hobo Johnson – it was so good!’

‘One of the key elements of the whole project was I wanted to have a community feel’

The album artwork was taken from a photo of him at the counter of a vintage toy and collectable shop and has a lovely backstory: ‘It’s by an artist from Perth called Sam Evans. One of the key elements of the whole project was I wanted to have a community feel, so I enlisted the help of some close friends and some new artists that I’d found. His work really fits perfectly with the imagery I was going for – nostalgic, lived in memories and pop culture references – and my desire to want to make the project bigger than just myself.’

The title track ‘After the parade’ has something of a wistful feel to it: ‘The whole thing is an examination of what happens in between the parts of the story that we don’t necessarily see,’ he said. ‘That can be applied to relationships or conversations that you’re in or literal stories that you’re watching. So all the things that aren’t said and all the things that maybe aren’t right in your face.’

Other tracks like ‘Letting Go of Paper Planes’ towards the end of the album already sound timeless and it feels that album has come full circle in terms of his storytelling. It’s evocative yet opaque and feels like he is essentially unburdening himself of things that trouble him in it: ‘I’ve come on this journey, I’ve gone through a complication and part of the resolution is being able to accept whatever’s happening,’ he said. ‘That’s where ‘Letting Go of Paper Planes’ sits for me. It’s a song of acceptance, really. Letting go as a concept, it’s often talked about but no-one really knows what it looks like, so I was playing with that idea as well.’

‘I wanted to add that circular sort of feeling to it’

I tell him that this song feels like a new beginning and he agrees: ‘ It’s an exploration in sort of patterned behaviour – you’ve come across something or you’ve learned something and then you’re put in a similar but different situation and you’re doing the same things. Does that make sense? I wanted to add that circular sort of feeling to it. A lot of the work on the record is actually about me just going to work. Up until very recently, I was an early childhood teacher, like a preschool teacher, so when I say “you and them” in the song, I imagined that I was talking to one of the children or the group or even people I work with.’

He’s had a lot of fun along the way, as he recounts: ‘There’ve been a lot of fun moments! One that comes to mind was having house shows in Canberra. They had this thing called the Mulgara House where touring DIY artists would always play, it was a real nice sense of community there. Also House shows in Doonside in western Sydney, they were the best! The best show I’ve ever been to was Skepta at the Sydney Opera House, the energy was so unlike anything I’d ever witnessed!’

(Photo credits: Top photo: Guy Veres, counter photo: Zack Janus.)