Review: Frankie And The Witch Fingers ‘Trash Classic’
If you look up the word ‘frenetic’ in the dictionary, there is probably a picture of the LA based quintet Frankie And The Witch Fingers. Formed over a decade ago in Bloomington, Indiana, by vocalist/rhythm guitarist Dylan Sizemore and Josh Menashe (vocals/lead guitar).
The band, now also comprising bassist Nikki Pickle, drummer Nick Aguilar and newest member Jon Modaff(synths) have racked up an impressive seven albums, several live albums and a host of EPs in less time than Tool produced 2019’s Fear Inoculum.
This perpetual forward motion has seen them grow from the tentative flurries of their 2013 debut Sidewalk to 2023’s critically received Data Doom which captivated my colleague Marty in his review, declaring it ‘a garage rock, heavy psyche and rock and roll master stroke of the highest order’. Certainly, when I caught the band last year opening the Friday of Desertfest London with the anthemic Empire, they were the perfect band to ignite the festival, balancing high energy, funk, psychedelia and effortless cool.
On the back of this tidal wave of accolades comes their latest album Trash Classic and the heavyweight of big expectations. Having become what SPIN magazine would assert as ‘a heavy hitter in the underground rock, punk, and psychedelic circles,’ there was a degree of correlation with this year’s must-see moment of Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol, sharing a similar creative naming ethos. They are also an innovative act that grabs people by the imagination and makes them want to get on the dance floor, bang their heads and shake their asses
Album number seven sees the band retain the explosive energy and funk dexterity that they have honed over the years, but flashes with a snarling danger and is coloured with a rawer, more cynical disappointment with the world by dishing out searing disdain and a smirking irreverence in equal measure.
After the false start of Channel Rot, a buzzing, B-Movie collision of garbled samples that pours into your ears like sensory overload. A jittering, bleeping piece of electronica heralds drums and guitar stabs that set up the heads down charge of T.V. Baby and the band are off to the races.
With a proto surf punk jangling guitar rhythm, up-tempo beats and a smashing harder edge, the band bite from the off. Sizemore spits lyrics faster than the notes wrung from the guitars as the five-piece charge through twists and turns, false stops and nagging dance floor pogoes that will have you shaking like a junkie on a comedown.
Dead Silence doesn’t release the grip on the scruff of your neck. Featuring a deft melodic hook behind the bouncing lead work, the track is less abrasive despite the almost Dead Kennedy’s like unconventional structures and delirious surrealism that the track seems to ooze. There is a pop sheen to the proceedings that makes the record highly infectious as it blasts by in a (on the surface) sugary sweet rush of the guitars and the fast, relentless delivery of the vocals.
a crazed and magnetic sense of fun oozes through every pore…
The band supposedly recorded the album on a diet of full-volume cartoons and late-night candy binges, and Trash Classic sounds exactly like the end result. They tear into Fucksake, a slower-paced number than sounds like a retro Saturday morning theme tune with childish backing vocals and a shimmying funk that could be a Scooby-Doo theme from another point outside the Central Finite Curve.
This warped electronic punk rock fusion continues on Economy with scattershot sounds over the pulsing bass and overdriven synth. Sounding like ‘80s new wave being mugged by The Damned as the grimy weirdness the band have claimed their own subverts any sense of normal expectation.
Eggs Laid Brain starts with a computer game soundtrack like a freakout, as catchy as a case of Wuhan Bat Flu, before rolling into angular chugging and crazed sax moments. Out Of The Flesh then faints at Nine Inch Nails like electronica, only to turn into a lo-fi garage jam boogie with more surf rock chord progressions, a pumping breakdown, and snapping drumming.
As with previous outings, this (loose) formula works because, despite the seeming off the wall anarchy that reigns over their albums, the band are as tight as the lid on a jar of pickles. When they detour from the main path, be it with guitar solos, horns, electronics or even just crazed vocal chants, they are never far from that grounding anchor and a catchy refrain.
The chattering madness of Total Reset, with its nagging hooks and twitching jangle awash with synth harmonies, contrasts with the infectious clapping style of Conducting Experiments. Robotic vocals keep the audience guessing with the musical direction, but never denying them that magnetic sense of good time vibes. Even if this a is an album that is thematically defined by escapism, decay, and overindulgence, you get the sense that Frankie And The Witch Fingersare dancing at a party during the end of the world.
Gutter Priestessand the title track close the album. The former is a moodier, darker feeling that has shades of The Ramones and an earworm of a vocal harmony. The latter is a breathless run for the finish line that features a swelling organ sound, trademark fast lyrics and lashings of breakneck riffing that never lets up, even with the simmering funk of the ending.
The band themselves have described the album as a ‘raw, twisted monument to rot and excess’ which feels both grandiose and understated. Trash Classic is a weird, twisted album that delivers a defiant spit in the eye to convention, a gallows humour sensibility in the face of the grime of the world, but ultimately a crazed and magnetic sense of fun oozes through every pore, making this album far from throwaway.
Label: Greenway Records | The Reverberation Appreciation Society
Band Links: Official | Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
Scribed by: Mark Hunt-Bryden
