20 November 2 - 8, 2023 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents Walk-in Fans Welcome Overshare say audiences still want original live music in Dallas. BY ALEX GONZALEZ O ver the past few years, pan- demic or not, Overshare has become one of Dallas’ buzzi- est acts. Stepping onto the scene as a duo made up of vocalist Eric Rosener and bassist Connor Cameron, Overshare first turned heads in Dallas with a trippy, gender-bending video for “Flaws,” which has Rosener dancing in lingerie. Having evolved as a duo indie-pop act to a four-piece rock band, Overshare is now a staple in venues Club Dada, Trees and Dou- ble Wide. Much of Overshare’s cult-like following have kept up with the band since its incep- tion thanks to songs such as “Flaws,” the Beck-influenced “Ugly” and the unfiltered “Sad” — despite the fact that many of their songs have not received a wide release. Until now. Sort of. This past month, Overshare celebrated the release of a new single, “Cool Off,” from their upcoming album Overstimulated. The album will feature Rosener and Cameron, as well as guitarist Wil Farrier (whom you know from Rosegarden Funeral Party) and drummer Joshua Montez, who joined the band respectively in 2021 and 2022. The band’s long-awaited debut album will arrive early next year, but fans can hear it early by subscribing to the band’s Patreon page. The band celebrated the release of “Cool Off” with a show at Double Wide. The song was written mostly by Cameron, who at- tempted to write from the perspective of Rosener, who later reworked the lyrics to make the song a punchy rock track “about being a crazy slut.” “Back in that time, I hadn’t done as much therapy,” says Rosener as the band rehearses at Farrier’s home studio. “I hadn’t perfected my medications, and I was very hypersex- ual, and I wasn’t good at keeping people around. So I liked monogamy, but I couldn’t really keep monogamy going. So [I was see- ing] person, person, person, person.” Coming to this realization was “an inter- esting thing” for Rosener “to put on paper and process.” As the title of the album Over- stimulated suggests, Rosener aims to be open about his struggles with mental illness. Much of the album was his way of coping with certain obstacles. “I either make music until I don’t hate ev- erything anymore, or I do jiujitsu,” he says. Many of the songs on the album were written two to three years ago, and while Rosener says that the band members aren’t the same people they were when they first wrote the songs, they have no re- grets about the material. In fact, they all posit that most men could benefit from go- ing to therapy. The album opens with a song called “Cast Iron,” a somewhat self-deprecating carica- ture of masculinity, on which Rosener pro- claims “I’m a liar / I’m a cheater / I’m a bully / Everything a grown man should do, I do it fully.” Rosener says the song is more of a sar- castic jab, targeted “at people who act that way,” but also slightly toward himself. Another song, “Desert,” features Rosener battling demons with his weapon of choice — a glass of cognac. On the bridge is an in- fectious guitar solo played by Farrier. The guys credit Farrier and Montez for helping breathe new life into their music. A new version of “Flaws,” which is on Over- stimulated, contains more rattling drums and guitar loops — something Farrier argued for in the studio. “The song has evolved so much,” Farrier says. “When we’re recording with a full band, we have more lively instrumentation.” It’s worth noting that none of the songs on Overstimulated exceed 3 minutes — a strategy the band implemented in order to keep fans wanting to hear their catchy ear- worms. “I’d like to establish I like punk music a lot,” Cameron says. “I like short songs in general. I want to establish a good idea and then get out, especially with this type of music. We want to leave them wanting more, rather than overstaying our wel- come.” “That’s going to be the name of the next album,” Rosener says jokingly. “Overstay.” Over the years, Overshare shows have been known to get a bit rowdy. Rosener will often take his shirt off mid-show, running into a loud, sweaty crowd. On one occasion, Rosener got the audience to chant “pissboy” repeatedly, after he’d bought a shirt with the word on it, not knowing exactly what it meant. One of the band’s favorite performance moments came during a show at Tulips in Fort Worth, when they realized they were being photographed as part of a college pho- tography competition. They pleasantly re- call some of their favorite photos taken of them, and remembered how every one of the photography students stayed for the du- ration of the show. “All of them were stoked to do it,” Farrier says, “because that’s what they want to do. They want to shoot live music.” Though Overshare has proven popular within Dallas-Fort Worth’s live music scene, they say that there’s a shortage of venues where they can perform. Over the course of the past few years, the band has mourned the loss of The Curtain Club, The Prophet Bar, and the original Church venue. A rap- idly gentrifying Deep Ellum has also posed a hindrance to original acts who play their kind of rock, they say. But the guys still posit that desire for live music is still present within the city, espe- cially as they’ve become mainstays at local venues. “I do not believe that people don’t want to listen to live music,” says Farrier. “Be- cause they do. People who are on their way to Bottled Blonde stop into Three Links, be- cause that looks more interesting. And I will swear by it that it is.” | B-SIDES | t Music J Indigo Overshare are (from left) Connor Cameron, Eric Rosener, Joshua Montez and Wil Farrier. SCAN HERE TO ENTER TO WIN TICKETS
