Album Review: Fidlar - Fidlar

Oh how I dreaded listening to the debut album of this skater garage rock band from LA! In my defence, it's hard not to form a negative preconception of a band whose name is an acronym for “fuck it dog life's a risk” and who cite a list of various brands of shitty American beer as their influences. 

After reading the lyrics for the song Whore, which, in an angry, inarticulate, drunken teenage nutshell are “she's a whore because she hurt me” repeated ad nauseum, I'd pretty much made up my mind that this was going to be the musical equivalent of smashing myself in the face repeatedly with a weighty tome about the history of punk. However, when I eventually retrieved this little number from under my teetering pile of things I'd sooner forget about than deal with (bills, messages from my mum, Michael Bay movies, court summonses, the plague etc) and gave it a long overdue listen, I have to grudgingly admit that this band is fun. 

Yes, fun! Remember when music used to be fun? The kind of drunken fun we used to have while mindlessly dancing and banging our heads, before indie music came in and ruined it with its wanky lyrics and greasy devil-may-care haircuts? It's simple, yes, but infectiously catchy with no end of hooks and a generous side-helping of pubescent lust for life. It won't change your life, but if you want some cool tunes playing at your next barbeque, leavers booze up or cocaine party this may just be the thing.