Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Shawn Biggs at Studio Paradiso, San Francisco, CA
As the FIDLAR dudes got out of their van, the February afternoon of this taping in San Francisco - the day after their Noise Pop Festival performance, they were still contemplating something that they'd read about themselves the day before. They'd been derided as one of the worst (or inappropriately) dressed bands out there. This infraction was seemingly due to their proclivities for wearing sports jerseys, etc. while they performed their songs. Seems like that's a bit harsh. They felt the same way, though the Los Angeles-based punk band really couldn't give a flying fuck about any of it. It's likely what led them to the jerseys in the first place - that whole not giving a flying fuck thing. It's probably what led them to disregarding showers for many days on end, though we all have the tendency to do that, so there's no judgment there. It's probably what led them to their guitars and pedals and drums in the first place. It's definitely what led them to writing the songs that they write.
It's the mantra that they place on a pedestal before doing anything: Is this absolutely fun as shit and is it almost completely irreverent? If they agree that the answer is, "Hell yeah!" on both accounts, they're in. FIDLAR music is determined to get a rise out of people. It's meant to make you want to smash things, to check out every boob and ass within sight and to order a pizza no matter how late it is. It's music that makes you feel like it's totally alright to drink and drink and drink until you get so blackout drunk that you wake up a few days later, in the same clothing you last remember being in, with a whole bunch of holes in your memory and maybe a few extra tattoos that you'll recognize immediately as your skin points out where things are rawest and freshly sensitive.
They sing about feeling like crack heads and feeling like shooting up. It seems that this is just their way of saying that they are having crummy days. They feel like grandpas at other times and this might just be their way of suggesting that they're not getting any younger, though they're doing everything they can to reverse the effects of time - staking a claim to juvenile-dom for as long as they possibly can. It's where the plentiful, if not choice ass is and it's where you're allowed to be more slobbery and less apologetic. They put their position very simply, when they sing, "I drink cheap beer/So/What/Fuck you!" We would clink our glasses filled with cheap beer to that.