surfing and punk rock are sort of like forrest and jenny. the peas and the carrots. there’s something about the freedom of the ocean and fuck you of punk rock that were made for one another. lately, i can’t help but notice the punk has been missing from the left coast beach scene. rather than high energy, punch you in the face west coast punk rock and roll, we’ve been spoon fed this load of “chillwave” nonsense. i actually feel like an idiot combining the words chill and wave into one phrase. but i digress…
today’s feature out of southern los angeles is a band called fidlar. fidlar are the sound of a wild night around a beach bonfire with a few cases of the cheapest beer twenty dollars could buy and a stolen, half-swilled bottle of old grand-dad. they feel asleep on a blanket that smells of last nights dirty deeds and camel lights, and they don’t give a shit if their music gives you a headache. they sound like the ramones if the ramones had a beach to tan on that wasn’t in queens.
i love it when i hear a band that makes me miss a certain sound. fidlar does that for me. one listen to the fabulous “wake bake skate” made me scramble around for an old buzzcocks album in search of that cocky snarl. i hear traces of the jim carroll band, black lips and even a little of the post-punky freak out of the blood brothers all crammed into a sweaty little los angeles garage (band). it’s been a minute since i dug a little deeper for you, so here it is. check out DIYDUI, their cleverly titled debut release.
there goes the neighborhood
fuck it dog, life’s a risk.