Critic's Notebook

Fleshies

It's rare to find a band that convincingly blurs the line between smart and smart-ass without seeming uptight, but Fleshies pull it off with the simplicity of putting a match to a stick of dynamite. These lo-fi hellions blast the kind of loud, relentless guitar fury that reminds us that...
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It’s rare to find a band that convincingly blurs the line between smart and smart-ass without seeming uptight, but Fleshies pull it off with the simplicity of putting a match to a stick of dynamite. These lo-fi hellions blast the kind of loud, relentless guitar fury that reminds us that “hardcore” and “punk” used to be one and the same (“There Will Be No Apocalypse”), occasionally indulging in AC/DC-style head-banging rock (“You’re All Doomed”), half-pipe-worthy skate-thrash (“Pisces Revenge”), or surprisingly melodic anthems reminiscent of the days when pop-punk hadn’t yet become a dirty word (“Rosa”). And if their live show is even half as raw and out-of-control as their second Alternative Tentacles full-length, The Sicilian, then we can safely say that Oakland, California’s Fleshies will have you shakin’ your drunken ass and begging for more.

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