In 2009, Dallon Weekes found himself in a position millions can only dream of – catapulted to the loftiest peaks of the music world almost overnight, as he was recruited as a touring bassist, and subsequently a fully-fledged member, of Panic! at the Disco.

Over the course of the next few years however, Dallon began to become disillusioned with the state of the modern music industry, and the false promises of LA. After departing the band in 2017, he joined forces with Ryan Seaman, the drummer with Falling In Reverse, to create music under their own banner, I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME (iDKHOW).

If the intentionally difficult moniker doesn't give it away, the pair are approaching the project with a strong emphasis on doing things their own way...

"As far as marketing goes, it's definitely a terrible idea," Dallon says of the band's name, with a grin. "From the get-go, everything that we've done has been in protest of the things that you're supposed to do: have a snappy band name, advertise, tell people to follow you here, or subscribe to that there. Instead, we spent the first year or so in secrecy. We completely denied that we even existed at all. And we have this ridiculous band name that no one should be able to remember.

"But somehow, it's all been working! It feels really validating, in a weird way."

In October, they released their debut album as iDKHOW, the lauded Razzmatazz. The project explores a sound that transcends decades and genres – combining the swagger of the '70s and '80s with a modern pop-rock energy.

"Whenever I write, I try to draw upon the things that I love," he explains. "And when I was writing and recording these songs, there was a very specific subgenre of music and influences that took a tiny step forward – like David Bowie, T.Rex, Sparks and Oingo Boingo."

St Vincent has also been embracing a similar aesthetic recently, on her new album, Daddy's Home.

"I've been seeing it more and more as of late," Dallon nods. "I love to see people reaching back and taking things like that, and incorporating it into music now. Music, fashion and art all go in cycles. Something that's new right now might be brought up again 30 years in the future. Things that are old get filtered through new lenses. That's important. We're not interested in being revivalists. We want our music to be able to exist in a modern landscape."

Alongside the glamour of the aesthetic, Razzmatazz also addresses showbiz's grimy underbelly.

"That's the underlying theme of the whole record," he says. "Showing your audience that the sparkling, glittery thing that's on stage is a great and wonderful distraction – but the thing behind the curtain, that put it there, might not be so appealing."

Undoubtedly, it's a commentary shaped by Dallon and Ryan's own experiences.

"We've seen the formulas, and have been around the focus-group music – and the factories that can certainly produce hits and produce massive success," he reflects. "But we just wanted to create art that didn't feel like it was manufactured. The best way for us to do that was just to try our best to do the opposite of everything that we'd seen work before."

Falling out of love with the Hollywood glitz was a gradual process for Dallon, during his time with Panic! at the Disco

"I grew up with all of the same media and movies that everyone else did – glorifying LA as this beacon of culture," he recalls. "It's where you have to go if you want to make it, or be a success.

"Getting the job [with Panic!] was the reason I moved to LA. I was sort of plucked out of obscurity. I went from fixing sinks and cleaning carpets to playing in front of 20,000 people. And then, when that tour was over, I went back to fixing sinks and cleaning carpets. I was orbiting this world of fame, celebrity and money. People come in and out of it, but I was just there, observing it all – because I was very unimportant in that sphere.

"It's bizarre to be among that stuff, and in that world, but not really part of it," he adds. "It's something that I've experienced throughout the course of my life, but in those last 10 years, it was really amplified. I was engulfed in that entertainment business culture. There were things in that culture that I saw and experienced that just didn't really sit well with me."

Although he tells me he doesn't "necessarily hate LA", he stresses that it "isn't the answer that people think it is." It's a sharp contrast to the creative freedom he has now found with iDKHOW.

"It's been nice to be able to create art and music with no filters," he notes. "Nothing's standing between what I hear in my head, and the finished product. When I write or make art, I become very attached to those things. I had been handing those things off to other people, and watching them shift and change. It was a difficult experience, to have my ideas watered down, or have the message changed altogether. So to not have to deal with that anymore is a huge psychological relief, and a spiritual relief too."

This month, iDKHOW return with the Razzmatazz B-Sides EP  – featuring a selection of demos, a cover of Beck's 'Debra', and tracks that didn't make the album, due to Covid-19 disrupting the recording process. So where do the band go from here?

"To the top, baby!" Dallon laughs. "To be serious, I just want to be able to do this for as long as people are interested. That's the driving force. I'm not really interested in being a rock star, but I do want to be a musician, and I want to be able to take care of my family that way. As long as there are people out there who can help me perpetuate that, that's as long as we'd like to do it."

Razzmatazz B-Sides is out now.