FIGHTING FICTION have already been tipped as one of the bands to watch this year, and their debut self titled album certainly seems to confirm this. British rock music is thriving at the minute, and despite FIGHTING FICTION‘s ode to rock music commercialism in the form of ‘Rock n’ Roll Is Dead and its Corpse is For Sale’, bands such as YOU ME AT SIX, DEAF HAVANA and YOUNG GUNS are storming the charts of late.
The album as a whole contains enough diversity of sound for one not to get bored, and is relentless and passionate in equal measures with some interesting social commentary to boot. The guitars across the album hum with feedback and the big singalong choruses are aplenty, and despite the assertion that “Rock n’ Roll Is Dead and its Corpse is For Sale”, the band has more than enough punk righteousness mixed with tongue in cheeck cynicism to stay interesting.
The songs are ardently sung and there are plenty of heartfelt moments – such as the anthemic “growing pains” and acoustic street balladry of “Amsterdam”. It’s the lyrics that really give the album a kick; the ska tinged “No Room at The Inn” contains the gritty couplet “The words of the wicked lie in wait for blood, and you are but a wolf in a patriots clothes”.
FIGHTING FICTION are good at what they do. They take the socially conscious aspects of bands such as THE KING BLUES and infuse them with elements of punk history via THE CLASH, and though FIGHTING FINCTION are admittedly not reinventing the wheel with this album, there is something remarkably likeable about it. A solid effort from a band destined for bigger things.
CLARA CULLEN