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The Daily Wildcat

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The Daily Wildcat

The Daily Wildcat

 

    Wavves and FIDLAR tear it up at Club Congress

    Bodies thrashing, beer sloshing, bass thumping — Club Congress was mayhem when FIDLAR and Wavves took the stage Tuesday night. Tucson was their second stop on their six-week tour filled with copious amounts of alcohol and headbanging fans.

    If Wavves are the seasoned veterans of the skatepark, FIDLAR is the new kid who just did a varial heelflip in their faces. As the band only released its first album in January, the newbies had a lot to prove to an audience of Wavves fans.

    But these boys don’t mess around. Opening with “Cheap Beer,” FIDLAR immediately set the tone for its set and the entire night.

    As though they had just stepped on stage after a romp on the halfpipe, the band members’ casual vibe led in to vicious guitar playing and ear-splitting vocals.

    The unsure crowd immediately became comfortable with the newcomers after some encouraging words: “Push each other around,” shouted by lead singer Zac Carper before he dove into the next song and let the moshing ensue.

    The unruly tempo took the audience on a garage band acid trip. “Infectious” is the only word worthy of describing the effect on the entire room as the end of each song gave way to more and more rambunctious shouting and applause.

    As Wavves’ set began, the scent of booze, sweat and cigarettes wafted through the room. The band proclaimed its drunkenness, but said it would only add to the fun. With the exception of spontaneous interactions with the crowd, Wavves might as well have been jamming out on a Saturday night in some dingy basement in Los Angeles.

    Before most songs, a guitar shrill echoed through the room to remind the concert-goers that this is the epitome of rock ‘n’ roll. The tone of each guitar strum was a throwback to days of Dr. Martens and waist-tied flannels. It seems this generation has found its version of grunge rock; even the bassist, who had newly bleached hair and tattered pants, had a very Kurt Cobain air about him.

    Niceties were few and far between as lead singer Nathan Williams shouted, “Nice beanie, motherfucker,” at a rowdy kid. Wavves clearly weren’t concerned with making friends — only making music.

    Wavves’ exit was innately punk. No encore was played or necessary; the band just left in its wake a job well done and a satisfied, bruised and battered audience.

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