Saturday, 16 March 2013


This band has been getting some play beyond the low punk circles most of the shit I'm into dances about in so naturally there's been some 'SELLOUT' backlash, some of it apparently that members of the band are kids of one of the dudes in TSOL, but that seems weird to me, because if association with TSOL was a recipe for popularity then putting Code Blue on numerous Valentine's Day mixtapes would be a surefire route to social success, rather than what it was and is, a dumb shitty joke that serves as just another small signifier (and intensifier) of your anti-social needy push/pull self-hatred. Anyway, it was the echoes of Police Truck in Cheap Beer that made me realise what FIDLAR really are: the band that DK would be if Too Drunk to Fuck wasn't satirical. "I. DRINK. CHEAP. BEER. SO. WHAT. FUCK. YOU." in a take on Anti-Nowhere League We Are... The League nihilism so patently silly it feels like a version of that UK82 flashback scene in True Blood where Stephen Mayer hams it up complaining about Thatcher in a dodgy British accent. Fuzzy surfpunk obnoxiousness where the lyrics seem like they were all cribbed from hungover-still-drunk conversations with dudes who know what sacking yourself on a school rail feels like. Sass Dragons-clipped Wassup Rockers ride and roll. Shittydude music that generally avoids being shitty dudemusic (well apart from on the song Whore, which I guess shows that if you're gonna get into the adolescent joy of teenpack storming it's hard not to get into the rampant fuckheaded unreconstructed childish entitlement too) and laced through with those two distinct subgenres shittitude music and shittytube music.

I love though the Thee Cormans spooksound garage-warble underpinning Blackout Stout, the perfect skaterat junkrock anthem on Wake! Bake! Skate! and its chronicle of wasted nothingness existence, poppier dreamier odes to drop-out parasites that hang around that sounds like a singalong where you can't tell if the shake comes from a Rolling Stones swagger or methshot jonesin' shiver. Not every song's a winner but when they're on they can hit that sloppy Nobunny style with an irresistible Cardiel energy and Jackass giggle and the shit is golden like a california lens-flare as you film your dumbfuck buddy nail a tre down a four then stack on a gravel chunk caught in the wheels, call it a day then all go shoot up, nod out and die young like a twat.

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