BIO

Vince and Jimmy DeWald may call their band BRAND NEW TRASH, but they are definitely something to treasure. The brothers had a relatively normal childhood in their Mishawaka, Indiana, environs before heading off to San Francisco for 15 years and then ending up in Nashville. That time-zone hopscotch goes far to explain the widescreen vision inherent in their new album, No Trash, No Beauty.“Growing up in the Midwest was always funny,” begins Jimmy. “I felt like, ‘Oh, we're getting all the different sides.’ We were seeing the West Coast and the East Coast: We don't have to identify with anything as much. It allowed us to be open and like a lot more different things. On the other hand, of course, you're not there for those real scenes as they happen.”

 

“That to me is an important thing about our story,” Vince chimes in. “Because we grew up loving East Coast and West Coast hip hop and then the grunge movement, too. I think in a way, being from the Midwest kept us dreaming more about what's going on over there because we were removed from it. You’d hear Ad-Rock talking about the Beastie Boys coming up in New York and it's like they were just around everything all the time. We weren’t, so we had to dream it all up in a railroad track town, blue-collar America kind of way. And I think that really brought a literary perspective where it's like, we got to dream this up, what's our story? And how do we include the things we love?”

 

Now, you could place the Brothers DeWald inside whatever narrow genre designation you’d like, and they’d probably respond, “OK.” That’s not because they’re bored, antisocial or too-cool-for-school. It’s because they know where the 11 songs on No Trash, No Beauty came from. Once those tracks leave their studio, it’s not their role to define them anymore. In theory, Brand New Trash are a punk band: They do what they want creatively without pledging allegiance to any one genre.

 

“When we first started Brand New Trash, we began with two friends who weren’t even musicians,” reveals Jimmy. “It was about really leaning into the idea of ‘brand new trash’—the beauty and the imperfection. That first process was that we're gonna write songs however we want them—we're not gonna be sitting here critiquing every little thing. If there's a mistake, you gotta use that to make the art happen. Now we've come almost full circle to more of the acoustic thing again, but with better insight into how we want to do it.”

 

Given the duo’s amazing proficiency on any stringed instrument you can think of (check out “Trashville Skyline Rag”), it’s clear the DeWalds musicianship cannot be denied. While they are embraced within the realm of modern Americana, the brothers are always ready to expand the notion of the genre. Consider No Trash’s opening track, “The Same Way,” which sounds like an update of Frank Zappa’s “America Drinks And Goes Home,” where the mics seemingly steer away from the band to focus on loud patrons at a bar. Then the whole thing ends with a decidedly psychedelic violin solo. “Memory Lane” is both swagger and celebration slightly peppered with a curious violin and a toy Russian harp that was laying around. The percussive acoustic guitar soloing on “Got That Feeling Again” propels the ballad’s somber aspects. And really, did Bob Dylan forget to write “Patience For This World”?

 

At any given moment, Brand New Trash could rebuild rock history for their own intentions. Johnny Thunders covering Neil Young’s Harvest? John Mellencamp writing in the back of an ambulance that picked him up in an alley behind Max’s Kansas City? Are the DeWalds Hank Williams’ great-grandchildren out on the street, tryin’ to score “bop pills” for their pap-pap? Whatever scenario works for you, Brand New Trash have pinpointed the travails of the modern everyman and they’ve imbued it with grand bonhomie and some amazing acoustic guitar solos (“Big Window”).

 

“In a lot of respects, I hate Americana,” says Jimmy with a hint of insouciance. “Popular country music is the worst. But there's also an understanding of who we are as musicians. We’re not shying away from the fact that I'm playing upright bass, Vince is playing acoustic guitar and we’re leaning into that. But with our love of Beastie Boys and all the grunge music we grew up with, we’re trying not to lose that as our centerpiece. This is who we are, but at the same time we're not trying to be cookie-cutter Americana or just repeating Bob Dylan or Springsteen or something.”

 

“We love acoustic instruments,” says Vince, “but I think we have a slightly strong distaste for the Nashville-polished, folk Americana sound. We call it wallpaper. It sounds like something from a Hallmark card that's gonna connect with people, but ultimately means nothing. People like it, but it's ultimately forgettable. We’re trying to reclaim acoustic music for our tastes.”

 

Not only do the brothers spike convention with alluring audio-verite diversions, they apply that same kind of invention to their lyrics. Consider the bruised ’n’ boisterous “Left Her On The Mountain.” It’s about a ski vacation that Jimmy took with his then-wife, who told him that after two years of marriage, she can’t get over her last boyfriend. Instead of reacting in the tried and true polarities of hateful misogyny or overwrought lachrymosity, Vince clearly states the truth: “Well come on baby, what am I supposed to do with that?” (We’re pleased to report that Jimmy has since remarried.) Likewise, “Put Up” laments a former lover’s exit with both melancholy and words of caution (“Ain’t no way he’s gonna put up/with half as much shit as I did”). And at a time when class war divides are seismic, the austere sentiment of “I’m Gonna Ride A Horse Someday” feels even more resonant—and achievable.

 

“I need that edge, I need honesty,” says Jimmy, emphatically. “Otherwise, it feels rote and just wastes everybody's time. Of course, we don't want to hear just the mainstream bullshit, you know? But if there's honesty there, it could be great. I loved Olivia Rodrigo's first album; I thought it was fucking amazing. If there’s an edge and honesty to it, I can totally get behind it, as opposed to a lot of mainstream pop or whatever.”

 

“We've always gravitated toward edgy artists,” concurs Vince. “Jimmy’s the older brother and always got to the edgy stuff first. Like Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew: He loved that record when we were teenagers. I was like, ‘I don't get it.’ It took me a minute. I don't know, there's something about the edge that we always have sought—the edge of life, that is.”

 

“We sometimes joke that Vince is the beauty and I'm the trash of our music,” says Jimmy. “Because he’s more accomplished as a musician than me. He was the original songwriter and he has a more earnest side that's very authentic. So my response to him is maybe to find my place outside the edges. Like the older brother showing the little brother what's cool or not. We push each other musically and songwriting-wise and we also write together a lot, too. I always feel like a song’s not done until I bring it to Vince—and he'll have an arrangement thing or idea, whatever it is—then you know it's ready.”

 

Whether they’re out with a full band or delivering their everyman worldview by themselves, the men of Brand New Trash are living their lives and distilling them into their art. Emotions and creative decisions can go in a myriad of different directions. And to hear the DeWald’s explain it, they’re not out there for their health, either. Simply put, Brand New Trash are happy to be here, still making music and loving their brotherhood.

 

“It’s really about the process for me,” reveals Jimmy. “I think for both of us at this point it’s just like, ‘Are we having fun? Are we creating art? Can we find a way to just be able to do it?’ Sometimes you get a little something like, ‘Oh God, somebody might actually like our music, whoa!’ That feels great, but a lot of it is feeling like it's something that you’ve just got to do. If we're having fun doing it, that process is important.”

 

“I think Jimmy's right,” Vince resigns. “Everyone does it for different reasons, but for us, it's about the joy of the process or even rediscovering the joy of the process. For me, there's been a lot of that going on where it's like, ‘Okay, why am I doing this, and what can I do to enjoy this?’ You've got to get outside the grind, so the rediscovery of that is what's keeping us going.”

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-Jason Pettigrew