Fat Randy - Reggaenomics

When it comes to us musicians, it’s very easy to take ourselves, to take the whole thing, too seriously. We all invest a ton of emotion and feeling into the pieces we create, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t allowed to have fun with our music. There is room for laughter as well as chops in our tunes, and no band seems to understand that better than Fat Randy, who pair some serious technical skills with a goofy sense of humor on their new full-length, Reggaenomics.

After spinning this record for a few weeks, I can honestly say that I’ve never heard anything quite like Fat Randy’s brand of punk/funk/rock. The guitar’s massive palette of sparkling yet brusque cleans, crushing distortions, and watery choruses gives each piece its own distinct flavor. The bass runs up and down the neck across complex lines, pairing perfectly with the drums’ syncopated grooves. The vocals spend most of the record spinning a disaffected if not sly demeanor, making the guttural screams that occasionally tear through the speakers that much more poignant.

Fat Randy’s sound is a bastard lab hybrid of Primus and Bad Religion—somehow simultaneously prog, punk and everything in between. “Super Best Greatest Day Ever” tears along frenetic slash beats and wild power chords at terrifying speeds, while “Scarecrow” stacks heady riffs and gloomy basslines on top of alternating measures of 7/4 and 11/8. Tracks like “If I Were Not Diogenes (I, Too, Would Wish to be Diogenes)” and the instrumental “Fruit Salad (Please Kill Me)” also feature ripping, almost atonal saxophone melodies across both jazzy syncopation and heavy chugs. With Reggaenomics, Fat Randy shows they can thrash just as much as they can math, letting their intelligence guide the composition while their hearts fuel it with adrenaline.

One of my favorite aspects of Reggaenomics is how cohesive it is as a record. While any single song stands strong just on its own, it is in the sequence of the record in which they shine. Almost every tune slides naturally into the next, the feedback of final notes building into the next song’s intro. In addition, both the opening track “Trickle Dub Policy” and the interim “Jah Gave the CIA Crack to…” provide little snippets of insanity that further the jovial and chaotic atmosphere of the music. Even the energy dynamics between adjacent songs are seamless, totally avoiding the awkward emotional changes between tracks that stunt the flow of so many albums. Listening to Reggaenomics is a total experience from front-to-back, and as someone who likes to get lost in the music I listen to, I greatly appreciate the effort it takes to create such an experience.

Hands down, Reggaenomics is a pretty weird record, full of bizarre lyrical concepts and an attitude of blissful nihilism. But it’s also one hell of a listen—their chops are top-notch, their writing is both compelling and catchy, and the songs absolutely rock. Fat Randy’s blend of technical precision, punk virulence, and an odd obsession with food leads to a wholly unique and fun listening experience. It’s a record that holds something for everyone, you included, and I’d be surprised if it took you more than one listen to find your spot in this fascinating carnival of sound.

My Top Track: “Scarecrow”

You can find more from Fat Randy, including show updates and news, by following them on Facebook. Then, head over to their Bandcamp page and grab your own copy of Reggaenomics.

Millencolin - Pennybridge Pioneers

As I’ve mentioned from the very beginning, the original Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater games have a special place in my heart. They were my introduction to the genre of punk rock, my original exposure to music that was fast, energetic, and honest. The first installment in the game series ignited my love affair with Goldfinger and ska-punk in general, while the sequel acquainted me with the likes of punk legends Lagwagon and Bad Religion. For an eleven-year-old homeschooled dweeb living in semi-rural Connecticut, these games were more than just entertainment: they were my gateway drug into the world of alternative music.

Among the more acclaimed names like Rage Against the Machine, Anthrax, and Powerman 5000, there was also a lesser-known band on the soundtrack of THPS 2: Millencolin, a European group then just beginning to get recognition in the U.S. “No Cigar” was an instant hit with me, its angsty no-fucks-given attitude arriving just as I was becoming a teenager, and I was absolutely enamored. I would play the game for hours just so I could learn the lyrics, all the while wishing I could get my hands on more. Thus, when on my fourteenth birthday I was given a blank check of sorts for CDs (the same haul that brought me Bender’s monumental debut), at the top of the list was Millencolin’s Pennybridge Pioneers, the parent record of “No Cigar” that came to define my standard of punk rock for years to come.

From my first spin of Pennybridge Pioneers, I knew that I had found something worth cherishing. There is no lack of prowess or personality on this record; every song, whether in major or minor key, offers catchy melodies and precise instrumentation too juicy to ignore. The sound is very reminiscent of So. Cal punk, which is no surprise given that Pioneers was recorded in Hollywood and produced by punk icon Brett Gurewitz. Yet this Swedish quartet layers in a large amount of catchy writing onto their music. Instead of shying away from pop in favor of gritty punk, Millencolin dives right in, smashing along a swing beat in “Fox” and chugging at a slow, danceable pace in “The Mayfly.” Similarly, Nikola Sarcevic’s straining and raspy vocal lines seem to rattle out pages of lyrics in seconds, all stuck to a delightfully fun melody. 

While pop is definitely the driving factor in Millencolin’s music, the vehicle is their impeccable punk rock aesthetic. Fredric Larzon smashes his drums with quick and precise strikes, bullying along “Highway Donkey” and “Duckpond” with blurring cut beats. Guitarists Erik Ohlsson and Mathias Farm alternate their rhythm and lead sections to create perfect complements to each other’s playing. And at the center is Sarcevic’s rumbling bass, thumping down the foundation beneath the band or growling in the spotlight in “Devil Me” and “Right About Now.”

On Pennybridge Pioneers, Millencolin takes their skate-punk roots and injects them with a healthy dose of pop, and no song epitomizes this as well as “A-Ten.” Opening with a dolorous yet driving guitar riff, Ohlsson and Farm weave their rhythm pieces together, enveloping the entire spectrum of the instrument’s sound and spinning it into a masterpiece. Nikola’s vocals are laden with emotion as he attempts to console a friend through a loss, his mournful exclamation of “You wanna see her back again” wringing every ounce of feeling from the song. His melodies and the instrumentation belie the song’s minor key, instead drawing hope and happiness from a situation that would usually imply darkness. “A-Ten” drives its emotional content home with relentless energy, a deft blend of mosh and melody that invariably gets stuck in my head long after the song is done.

Undoubtedly, Millencolin has their composition process down to a science, producing pieces that feel as passionate as they sound. As is often the case with this style of music, however, the lyrics on Pennybridge Pioneers want for that same precision and attention to detail. Many of Sarcevic’s lines feel sloppy, his images ill-defined. Lines like “to prevent something like a theft I got her locked around a tree” in “Fox” are laden with unnecessary words, while the phrase “does never get a pass” in “The Ballad” doesn’t even make grammatical sense, perhaps a result of English being the second language choice for these Swedes. Still, I can’t stress enough how absolutely sincere Nikola’s vocals feel, so that even his laziest writing comes across with as much intensity as if he were shouting it right in my face.

Although most of the lyrical work on Pennybridge Pioneers fails to invite anything more than a cursory read, one particular piece manages to fully encapsulate and communicate its ideal with surprising ease: “No Cigar,” the song that had me hooked from the very first slap of the snare. Across a backdrop of searing skate punk, Sarcevic unravels line after line of distilled teenaged angst and alienation. His verses clamber across the various judgmental attitudes we all encounter in our youth: “Tell us where you’re from / what you want to become / and we’ll say if you’re OK,” or the still resonating “We will shut you out / We’ll put you in doubt / If you think that you’re special.” In the face of this negativity, Nikola’s chorus lines cast aside the darkness with a powerful mission statement as he shouts “I don’t care where I belong no more / What we share or not I will ignore / And I won’t waste my time fitting in / ‘Cause I don’t think contrast is a sin.” It is this message of self-acceptance, defying expectations and norms in favor of individuality, that slammed into my 12-year-old ears like a shotgun blast, resonating fully with the budding angst that I was just getting to know. “No Cigar” introduced me to both the sound and ethos of punk rock, values that still reside at my core fifteen years later.

Pennybridge Pioneers is the record that “took [Millencolin] to the next level,” and while it may sound dramatic, in a lot of little ways, it has changed my life too. It gave me my first real taste of So. Cal punk sound (even if they weren’t from Cali), a sound with which I would soon become obsessed. It provided me with the material (and the guts) to start playing bass like a punk, as well as the inspiration to take that bass work to a band setting. It inspired me not just to value my own individuality, but to assert it, to push it through to the forefront in all that I do. And though I can’t imagine it will have the same life-shattering effect on you that it did on me, I urge you to give this record a spin, because at its very worst, it’s still a damn good listen.

Tunes to Check Out:

1) No Cigar

2) Duckpond

3) A-Ten