FIDLAR

by Sandy Carson

FIDLAR

Coke, crack, smack, dope, whatever. Whatever you got, these little fucks in FIDLAR sure want. And like the punk vagabonds the four young Los Angeles masochists are, they'll take every occasion they can get to remind you just how badly they could use a fix. "South by Southwest, where cocaine's legal," diminutive frontman Zac Carper offered after plotting for "Cheap Beer," mountains of weed, and a few females for drummer Max Kuehn. "You can buy it at stores, I seen it!" The quartet's skater punk madness goes down like cheap coke: zero-to-sixty like "White on White" and rough as a jagged razor around the edges. It's the type of stuff that'll get you psyched it made your ears bleed. Antihero anthem "Stoked and Broke" and catchy, revved up single "No Waves" set an early bar for the charmingly deviant "Max Can't Surf" and a refurbished cover of the Descendents' "Suburban Home." "Be stoked on life, and be stoked forever," Carper shouted with the bright-eyed look of a kid who didn't know just how pissed off his liver had grown.