In 2013, Fidlar frontman Zac Carper swore off drugs and alcohol for good, a decision that has resulted in an inevitable comedown. While sobriety undoubtedly saved the Los Angeles band from self-destruction, the shadows of their beer-guzzling, junked-up hedonism continue to loom. The punk rockers’ latest offering is proof of the lingering aftermath; sonically, nails the usual Fidlar formula, yet it twists and transforms their youthful skate and surf sensibilities into a cry for help.
Despite the five-year break since 2019’s , this record suggests that total freedom from addiction is still out of reach. Opener sets the tone of the record, Carper’s distinctive voice hollering as a clattering of skate carnage unfolds behind him – yet there’s something broken in his scratchy howls. It’s a confessional cloaked in a Thrasher hoodie, perfectly painting a picture of how to ‘survive the dream’ of the rockstar addict lifestyle when it has become a nightmare.
Scrappy punk rock sensibilities seem to provide a sense of solace for Fidlar. Throughout, the band speak in the same surf-tinged tongue as they always have, both sonically and literally; from the frazzled fuzz of , to s talk of " " of bad situations, the veil of surf lingo feels safe, familiar. However, the usage also highlights how far Fidlar have come from their “Wake! Bake! Skate!” years, providing a direct point of reference to see how they have grown into hardened adults.
in particular parades as a classic Fidlar banger, fizzing with bouncy riffs and easy singalong lyrics – yet the reality of “ ” isn’t merely a cheeky nod to the waves. The track is on the brink, a distorted breakdown of defeat. Following track only serves as another kick to the teeth, a twitchy, manic episode soaring in on bombastic, sun-kissed guitars.
While each track is certainly authentic, this record isn’t too sonically unique or different from previous releases. Whether it be the woozy haze of , the tongue-in-cheek chaos of , or the irresistible rumble of , this is textbook Fidlar. That’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Fidlar have always penned tracks for the “ ”, and this release is loaded with pessimism that will get the crowds moving. Full-time freelancer, part-time music festival gremlin, Emily first cut her journalistic teeth when she co-founded Bittersweet Press in 2019. After asserting herself as a home-grown, emo-loving, nu-metal apologist, Clash Magazine would eventually invite Emily to join their Editorial team in 2022.
In the following year, she would pen her first piece for Metal Hammer - unfortunately for the team, Emily has since become a regular fixture. When she’s not blasting metal for Hammer, she also scribbles for Rock Sound, Why Now and Guitar and more. Watch the full, pro-shot footage of Meshuggah decimating Summer Breeze festival this summer "Pete Townshend rates them above The Who": The Kinks' albums you should definitely listen to The Pineapple Thief announce new EP Last To Run, featuring previously unreleased material.
