All Time Low have always had a gift for turning chaos into clarity, but on EVERYONE’S TALKING—out today—the band steps into a new level of emotional sophistication. It’s a record built on momentum and memory, shaped by twenty years of survival, reinvention, and the stubborn belief that community still means something in 2025. Frontman Alex Gaskarth dives into nostalgia, self-interrogation, and that unmistakable ATL alchemy: melancholy dressed up in motion, heartbreak wired with hooks, and reflections sharp enough to cut through the noise of the world buzzing around us. On release day, Gaskarth opens up about storms, legacy, longevity, and what it really means to keep showing up for the music—and for each other.
“The Weather” has this perfect mix of melancholy and motion — it feels like driving through a storm with the windows down. What kind of emotional weather were you channeling when you wrote it?
I’ve always loved the way The Cure can lace melancholy longing with up-beat musicality. It’s a tough needle to thread sometimes without coming off contrived, and I just felt that this concept was pretty universally known—seeing an old flame out and then kicking yourself for not being more authentic in the few moments you have together in passing. It kind of leaves you with this rain cloud that follows you around all day.
Your new album, EVERYONE’S TALKING — the title alone feels very meta. What is everyone talking about? And what made you want to join (or interrupt) that conversation?
It can mean a lot of things. As an album title it’s got a good ring to it, catches your attention, and begs the question. I think the details are in the fabric of the songs on the record, and to dive in deep and reflect on what these songs mean to a band that has been through the trials and tribulations over 20+ years is the key.
You’ve been in the game long enough to see pop-punk go from niche rebellion to full-blown mainstream again. How does it feel to be both the OGs and the current?
From our perspective, the movement never left, because we’ve been active for the whole ride. When we started out, we were kind of chasing after a wave that was already crashing thanks to bands like Blink, Greenday, Fall Out Boy, and it was musically something that we wanted to be part of, because it’s the world we came from as fans first.
When the genre sort of shifted away from the mainstream a bit, we had established ourselves as a career band, and our fanbase was growing and our records were doing what we hoped they’d do for us. As this new moment of nostalgic appreciation came around, we were once again lucky to be making music, actively touring, and got lifted up in the moment. We’re just really thankful and pretty mind-blown that people still care about our music, new and old, this deep into our career.
What’s the biggest evolution from Wake Up, Sunshine to this new record — lyrically, sonically, spiritually?
We hit a new stride with Wake Up, Sunshine. We figured out how to modernize our sound without straying too far from what made us special to people in the first place. A couple years and a fresh album cycle under our belts and it feels like we’re very dialed into the kind of music we want to be making in 2025. We can experiment without coming across “experimental,” and that’s a sweet spot in my mind.
You’ve outlived trends, blogs, even MySpace. What’s the secret to staying relevant without losing your edge?
We’ve kept looking ahead to what’s next rather than chasing after something we’ve done in the past. Chasing nostalgia is an easy pattern to get stuck in, and then audiences get bored. I believe presenting people with a bit of a challenge—like, “Yeah, let’s go on this next ride, even if it’s a little intimidating”—is the ticket to longevity.
Does success feel different now than it did when you were 20 and living out of a van?
Massively. This band is our livelihood and it puts food on the table for our families, like any career. There is more at stake now than there was back then. When we were 19 and first climbing in a van—not that we realized it then—but if things didn’t work out, we had time and lots of different paths ahead of us to pivot.
Every win now counts double or triple, because it means we get to keep the lights on at home and provide for the people we care about the most. It’s also that much more rewarding knowing that every step we take forward is solidifying the legacy of this band. And we hope that in doing so, we’re cultivating and welcoming rad spaces at our shows for people to come to let go a little. That was always the M.O., but it hits different now, for sure.
What’s something about being in a band for this long that still surprises you — about music, fame, or friendship?
Fame is fickle and fleeting, and more like a game that you play—or it plays you—rather than an accolade or a triumph. Music and friendship are things you cultivate, grow, develop, and mature in order to keep them aligned with who you are as you grow yourself.
I think what surprises me most is how the two that matter most (music and friendship) seem to govern whether or not the fame part of it ends up feeling like the game you’re playing, or getting played by. That got deep.
How do you protect your creative chemistry after nearly two decades together?
Making sure everyone’s feeling involved to the extent they want to be, while making sure I protect the pieces of the lyricism and songwriting that matter to me as the one who’s got to go out on stage and sing the songs every night.
You popped up at a Jonas Brothers show and a Savannah Bananas game — that’s some wild genre-hopping. Do you enjoy keeping fans guessing?
If you haven’t noticed by now, it’s our favorite pastime 🙂
What’s the most random or chaotic place you’ve ever performed that somehow ended up being iconic?
We had a couple of shows at some to-be-left-unnamed theme parks that almost turned into riots. Didn’t expect any of it.
If EVERYONE’S TALKING had a smell, color, and cocktail — what would they be?
I’d go with the smell after it rains, the color of a good sunset, and a dry martini.
What does “rock star” mean in 2025? Is it still sex, drugs, and stage dives — or has it evolved into something deeper?
I don’t think “rock star” ever meant sex or drugs or stage dives; I think that’s something people cooked up to sell the mystique and celebrity of it all. Rock and roll to me is about community and creating a space in the culture where people who don’t feel like they quite fit in can belong.
I think that’s what it’s always been about, and the “rock stars” are the ones who championed those movements and cultivated those settings with the communities around them with songs that became rallying cries.
You’re about to head into another world tour. What’s the one thing you’ve learned about surviving the road that no one tells you when you’re starting out?
Rest. Sleep. You don’t have to say yes to every single thing that gets thrown your way. Burnout is real. Allow time and space for yourself to be a human being.
How has your relationship with your fans changed over time — especially with social media blurring the line between band and audience?
We came up alongside all the platforms that leveled the playing field between artists/bands and their audience—Myspace, Twitter, and so on. We embraced it because it became the norm, and for a long time I think it was a big part of our audience growing like it did. Fans on social media felt like they had direct access to artists as people, and I think that goes for any artist that came up around the time we did.
But over time we began to feel that the parasocial nature of it all was potentially creating some harmful environments, especially with the noticeable shift in social media over the last decade and platforms becoming much more toxic and negative, littered with trolling and seemingly fueled by rage-bait interactions. Ain’t got time for that.
We have taken a pretty giant step back from it all and reassessed how we engage with social media. It’s silliness and band updates. At the end of the day, we prefer to be seen on stage at our shows and let the songs do the talking to the people who want to be surrounded by good vibes and a welcoming atmosphere.
What keeps you up at night — creatively or personally — in this chapter of All Time Low?
The endless horrors. Not much has changed there.
If you could send a message back to your teenage selves in the garage, what would you say before hitting record on your first demo?
Trust your instincts, listen to your gut.
What do you love most about LADYGUNN? What do you love most about yourselves?
LADYGUNN is freedom of expression at a time when it’s very much needed, and I love that a lot.
I love that we’ve been fortunate to help folks through some of their own things with our music.
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