Fang­club

Ir­ish grungers sink their teeth into life

Total Guitar - - MONITOR -

i saved all my money and went to new york for a month... it just kicked me into ac­tion

The only ben­e­fit of a dead-end job is that it forces you to find an­other way for­ward – or rot. Aged 9, Fang­club front­man Steven King had a punk rock con­ver­sion thanks to the rev­e­la­tory dis­cov­ery of The Off­spring’s Amer­i­cana, but years later he found him­self hoist­ing white goods around a ware­house, slowly de­rail­ing. “I hated my job. I was a scrawny lit­tle punk rocker who wasn’t able to lift the wash­ing ma­chines as well as the other guys,” laughs Steven. “But they would ask me to play them my demos and they were al­ways re­ally sup­port­ive. They’d say, ‘Man, you need to do some­thing…’”

‘Some­thing’ came in a flight to New York. “I just wanted to get out,” says Steven. “My girl­friend and I saved up all the money we had and we went to New York and did this Airbnb for a month in the East Vil­lage. It just kicked me into ac­tion. I went to see loads of lo­cal punk rock shows and all of th­ese DIY artists on the street. Like punk rock, it was this in­spi­ra­tion that you could do what­ever you want.”

The songs poured out. Tracks like BadWords and

Fol­low com­bined ex­plo­sive calls to ac­tion and taut melodic lines into palm­muted grunge paeans. On his re­turn, Steven had 25 tracks cry­ing out for a home and the mo­men­tum started work­ing in his favour. Two weeks in the stu­dio saw all of the tracks recorded and mixed, a deal with Uni­ver­sal fol­lowed, a head­line tour and a sup­port slot with he­roes The Pix­ies.

“We did our first big head­line show a few months ago and there were teenagers scream­ing Dream­catcher and Bul­let­head back at us,” re­flects Steven. “It felt like it had come full cir­cle. I just needed to do it and it worked.”

FOR FANS OF Early Foos, Di­nosaur Pile-Up Gear Fender Jazzmas­ter

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