Fastbacks

(Translated from my original Italian text by ChatGPT and Piero Scaruffi)

The Fastbacks, a rowdy punk band following in the footsteps of the Ramones and the Buzzcocks, were essentially the creation of Kurt Bloch, the brilliant guitarist and composer from Seattle. Few musicians have written as many catchy songs at the level of quality achieved by the Fastbacks.
Their first single was In The Summer (featuring Duff McKagan on drums, a future member of the Guns N' Roses). That song and the subsequent singles Don’t Eat That It’s Poison (1980) and Someone Else’s Room (1981) were played in an enthusiastic but rough garage-rock style.

On the summer 1982 EP, Play Five Of Their Favorites (No Threes, 1982), the band’s style improved slightly, and they used the opportunity to record a song of almost epic scope for their genre: In America. The slow romanticism of I Never Knew (1982) opened new frontiers, explored a few years later (1985) by the swelling ballad Three Boxes: the Fastbacks were learning to moderate their verve and better calculate melodic moves. Meanwhile, Every Day Is Saturday (No Threes, 1984), a mediocre summer EP, had also been released.

Partly due to their flaws and partly due to bad luck, the band remained largely anonymous for many years. Their career was revived by the bold single It Came To Me In A Dream (1986). The following year saw the release of their first album, And His Orchestra (PopLlama, 1987), which went largely unnoticed. Yet the album already displayed a number of sublime little songs built around instant hooks and sparkling harmonies (Seven Days and Wrong Wrong Wrong among them); rapid-fire melodic gems driven by rhythms still hardcore. The Fastbacks’ “thrash pop” essentially anticipated ’90s popcore. Tracks like If You Tried also feature some of the most mature and exciting instrumental passages in post-Ramones punk rock. Bloch proves himself a composer of great stature, naturally drawing from Slavic folk (Don’t Cry For Me) and children’s rhymes (K Street).

In general indifference, their first masterpiece emerged in 1988: Everything I Don’t Need, sparkling and catchy like the early ’60s ye-ye girl groups.

Anchored between the sound of Phil Spector and girl groups, the subsequent Very Very Powerful Motor (PopLlama, 1990) does not miss a beat. With a perfect combination of vocals (singer/bassist Kim Warnick as a mix of Joan Jett and Tracey Tracey, and guitarist Lulu Gargiulo as the punkette) and cartoonish musical arrangements (Bloch fills arrangement gaps with increasingly searing riffs, Nate Johnson keeps time in the simplest way possible, songs like In The Summer resurrect the quintessence of those ’50s collegiate tunes with the same manic fanaticism as a vampire—but a vampire with a great sense of humor). The rebellious spirit emerges in the fiery offbeats of Always Tomorrow, and the dual sides of their revival—sentimental and cynical—coexist in the counterpoints of Trouble Sleeping. The Ramones-in-skirts of Apologies invented a rock of subtle nuances, avoiding the vulgarity of generic punk with a vertigo of self-indulgence.

A sequence of exquisite singles (My Letters and Impatience, 1991, as the shy, in-love, prudish adolescent; Run No More and Really, 1992, as the rowdy punkette) was not enough to revive the quartet’s fortunes.

The Question Is No (SubPop, 1992) collects many of these singles along with some rarities from the early ’80s.

Reduced to a trio (with drums alternately played by Nate Johnson, Rusty Willoughby, and Richard Stuverud), with the leader also in Young Fresh Fellows and the Seattle boom encouraging critics and labels, the Fastbacks recorded Zucker (SubPop, 1993), finally catapulting them to the forefront. From the mutating whirl of Believe Me Never to the carefree hook of Hung On A Bad Peg (fourteen songs in just over half an hour), this album contains nothing the Fastbacks had not already done dozens of times—but this time the world was listening. It is remarkable that they could still sound so fresh and enthusiastic after thirteen years. The galloping Never Heard Of Him, the tender When I’m Old, and the powerful Bill Challenger may not be masterpieces, but they demonstrate broad vision.

Popularity came late, but deservedly, and Answer The Phone Dummy (SubPop, 1994) still lives up to their underground reputation. The trio (completed by the two singers—bassist Kim Warnick and the formidable second guitarist Lulu Gargiulo, while drums alternate between Nate Johnson, Rusty Willoughby of Flop, Dan Peters of Mudhoney, Jason Finn of Love Battery, and Mike Musburger of the Posies, essentially half the percussive pantheon of Seattle) gave themselves a tune-up, finally consulting a harmony manual, but without abandoning the punk philosophy of brevity, concision, and frenzy. Occasionally, the playful hook of Waste Of Time is sung in a bored tone, almost Lydia Lunch-like; Bloch may hit on a memorable guitar motif like that of In The Observatory, or the baroque singing of Trumpets Are Loud may be interrupted by a jazzed-up guitar and bass jam.

But where the Fastbacks have always triumphed is in songs built on festive children’s rounds: On The Wall could have been composed by countless school classes around the world, and perhaps for that reason it is an absolute masterpiece. In these masterful songs, especially I’m Cold, there is a natural fusion of church-like chants sped to the maximum and rustic dance rhymes, a historic blending of provincial popular culture. Listening closely throughout the album, one can spot the breathless square dance of Went For A Swim or the altar-boy-like beginning of Meet The Author. Contrary to appearances, these musicians have very little to do with revivalism. Songs like And You and Back To Nowhere employ the full arsenal of light melodies, surf organs, and ecstatic choruses, but make minimal effort to reconstruct period harmonies, instead fully capturing the playful, carefree atmosphere. In this dizzying playback of ye-ye girls and teen idols, of girl groups and Spector sound, what is paradoxically missing are the actual 1960s.

New Mansions In Sound (SubPop, 1996) does not disappoint: Kim Warnick and Lulu Gargiulo alternate as always between lead and backing vocals in these catchy explorations of adolescent fun. Fortune’s Misery, No Information, and down to the childlike hook of 555 join the catalog of memorable tunes. Some novelty appears in the arrangements: I Know and Is It Familiar indulge in hard-rock sounds approaching Deep Purple, and Stay At Home exceeds six minutes.

By now, punk is all but gone, and on the mini-album Win Lose Or Both (PopLlama, 1998), only the memorable airs of No Music Played (almost a cappella) and Used To Belong shine—heartfelt songs exploring the most romantic side of their art. So Wrong still has the 1977 edge, shouted with an “oi” chorus. Book Of Revelation returns to their favorite dish: the playful, carefree girl-group round. The other nine songs are live bonuses, likely recorded a few years earlier. For garage-rock lovers, it’s pure honey. The Fastbacks unleash the raw drive of Blue Cheer, the acceleration of MC5, the charges of The Who, and the demonic solos of Ten Years After in an orgy of good vibrations, far removed from their official output.

All their albums have been critically well-received and are delightful to listen to, yet for mysterious reasons, the Fastbacks remained in the background of punk-pop. The Fastbacks are one of the most cheerful groups in melodic punk rock. Kurt Bloch has painted gems worthy of the best 1960s pop.

On The Day That Didn't Exist (Spinart, 1999), mostly recorded live, the Fastbacks sound as fresh as twenty years ago. Upbeat and catchy ditties like Goodbye Bird and Dreams I Have Seen still boast gorgeous melodies, while Maybe and One More Hour are sprightly and punkish. My Destiny and I Was Stolen inject warm emotions. New Book Of Old, Dreams I Have Seen and The Day That Didn't Exist transcend their humble means to take an existential look at life.