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Fast Food Society, Friggin Eh!

Blog posts are the work of individual contributors, reflecting their thoughts, opinions and research.
Fast Food Society ...After The Worst
Fast Food Society ...After The Worst

 

Look.  I don’t know a fucking fuck of a lot, but I do know one thing: I am the only person on this continent that owns a hard copy of Fast Food Society’s debut album ...After The Worst.  And that is total bullshit.  This is my first album review, as you’ll soon realize, but  I strongly believe people need to know about these fuckers from Spain. 

Imagine a polyamorous relationship between Propagandhi’s Less Talk, More Rock, Fat Wreck Chord’s Survival of The Fattest, DemocracyNow!, and Propagandhi’s Today’s Empires, Tomorrow’s Ashes; that’s how I’d describe these Spanish punk rockers.  Fast Food Society self identify as “Anti-globalist, pro-feminist, post-speciest, pre-anarchist Punk-Rock / Melodic-Hardcore five piece from Mallorca, Spain (holy shit, was that a mouthful!).”

To start, the album cover and folded insert is one part hilarious, three parts violently depressing, and five parts totally brilliant.  If you haven’t bought a compact disc in over a decade, this is a good time to get fucking nostalgic!  Not to mention the lyric sheet, let’s get to that now.

The album starts with the battle cry "¡El pueblo unido, jamás será vencido!" from the streets of Spain in the country’s famous anti-austerity movement, which took place on May 15, 2011.  Not content to simply celebrate the “electricity” of the “revolutionaries, loud and proud”, the song laments the movement’s temporary defeat.  “Tell me: Did we fight for freedom that was ours since the start?  Or did we run and hide, and then passively take part?”  

Transitioning from the band’s invaluable first hand account of May 15, the title of the opener, track two sticks with the theme of revolt.  Got Hope?  is a sonically stimulating, ripping reminder to “Remember: It’s only over when you give up hope.”  

 

Trembling indignation takes a back seat as Particles Collide meditates on the magic, and improbability, of the relationships we are lucky enough to have enjoyed.  “Against all expectations two beings in space/time met.  Your warm embrace is something I’ll never forget.”  Excuse me, while I go give my Grandpa a phone call. 

The Ancient and Sacred Halakha of Finder’s-Keepers is a stand-out blistering assessment to the illegal Israeli occupation of Palestine. “‘We are the chosen ones’ Much too similar to a ‘master race’.  ‘This is our promised land.‘  Another excuse for imperial plans.  ‘The world is on our side.‘  Propaganda through controlled media.  ‘They attacked us first.’ Only after you invaded and took everything they had.”  I swear I can hear Chris Hannah as a guest vocalist.  

 

One of most impressive and redeeming qualities of this record is it’s ability to fan the flames of the desire for freedom that burns in the hearts of many of us listeners, whilst offering profound self reflections (“THIS is what we were meant to do?”).  Said attributes are luminously displayed in Another Last Beer, The False Indoctrination of Gender, ...And So We Go On,  and The Blamer.

 “If you do your best to fit in, rest assure, it will never be enough, until you’ve completely lost what defines you.”

Manufacture of Consent purposely supplants the anti-imperialist anthem Free Sahara.  This dynamic tune is the musical version of the aforementioned album art work.  Offering more than an on point analysis, Fast Food Society inspires one’s sympathetic nervous system to release epinephrine and fight.  “Don’t be afraid.  You’re born into this game and then lead astray.  Don’t run, don’t hide: refuse to play...this ecocidal culture has gone insane and now it’s time to rise.”

 

It seems to me a little strange that a band from Spain (don’t they speak Mexican?) can be this effective and cogent in the english language -- minus a few spelling errors in the liner notes, but who’s keeping score?  More importantly, FFS is undeniably and intelligibly telling it like it is which is inherently dark, dirty, and depressing; but they manage to capture the imagination and inspire mini riots that will lead to changes necessary.  It’s that balance that has kept this album on steady rotation since I acquired that mutha fucka!

...After The Worst ends with the visceral face melting masterwork that totally fucking defies you not to blow your speakers and bang your head.  The song is called Wir Haben Es Nicht Gewusst, which was a sorry Nazi excuse which translates to “We Did Not Know.”  No one likes a Nazi.  You are not a Nazi.  Now you know how great Fast Food Society’s ...After The Worst is.  You’re fucking welcome.  

Check out the band/ get the album here: http://fastfoodsociety.bandcamp.com/

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