fidlar

Fidlar’s second album is full of songs for the miserably employed and the basement dwellers; the people who feel like also-rans. Like throwing yourself into a teeming moshpit, ‘Too’ is designed for catharsis and punching your way back to happiness, like on ‘Punks’, a two and a half minute scream that makes you think of amp towers shaking and bodies crashing together in an explosion of sweat and beer and unity against a shitty, teenage existence.

Similarly, ‘West Coast’ seems set to become a live favourite, with a manic energy that gets under the skin. While the album’s overarching sentiment is one of itchy panic, inspired by the darker days of singer Zac Carper, the band’s typical humour stops things getting too bleak. Album closer ‘Bad Habits’ rolls through the various pitfalls of a quarter-life crisis before slamming on the brakes for the tormented punchline; “Oh my god I’m becoming my dad.” The only weak links here are the groaning asides at the end of several tracks that break the coherence of the album, but really, when the rest of it is this fun, who cares?

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