L.A. RECORD is just about bursting with joy to be part of this excellawesome residency with the Lovely Bad Things at the Echo next month—yes, it’s a residency so good it demands the next generation of superlatives just to indicate a fraction of its quality! Our friends at Blundertown, Burger and Volcom have put together [...]

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Fidlar are a phenomenon reeking of teen spirit, particularly the puke after one first night of hard liquor drinking in 10th grade. Their sound is rough around the edges, but cut up and decidedly clear enough to be effective in delivering an anthemic slacker slogan within each song. On their standouts like ‘No Waves’ the [...]

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While the coke-fiends out there might miss a bit of the trebly snap, the heightened fidelity actually highlights their most frenetic moments: the stereo is more pronounced, so you hear cool friction in the double-tracked vocals and more Thin Lizzy influence in songs such as “Run the Night.”

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It’s not a smug look, but they know. They know. This band is going places. I just hope they don’t forget me when they’re booked into the Bellagio and are doing rails of boysenberry blow off the back of Lara Flynn Boyle.

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It’s the difference between hippies taking massive bong hits and revolutionary freaks snorting the same prepared cannabinoid snuff the Zulu used to knock the shit out of the British.

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Tiger High persevered and didn’t miss a beat of their engaging and infectious punk/guitar rock, a feat accomplished by drummer Greg Roberson, even without the full use of his left hand, which had previously been completely severed and reattached following an accident involving a pig and a glass door (you get the idea). Despite having to duct-tape the drumstick in said hand during the band’s set, his drumming was anything but ham-fisted(!), and he provided a rock-steady foundation for the group’s imaginative performance.

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If you haven’t seen the Shrine, you should check them out now before they explode. With their minimal gear and vintage enthusiasm, they have the ability to start a set with high-energy chord-and-lead-lick driven songs, then push the throttle out even further by dipping into frantic numbers like “Freak Fighter,” which sound a bit like what thrash metal would be if it had evolved straight from Thin Lizzy and bypassed Judas Priest entirely.

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