Review: Fins - Lawnmower EP

A demented racket.
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fins lawnmowerNew Milford’s Fins have taken to Lawnmower, their four-song EP, with the same species of irresponsible poise that used to send embryonic punk bands into instrument-smashing, stage-destroying spasms.

With vitality at a premium and well-crafted, well-bred pop seemingly all the rage with kids these days, the bracing spirit presented by these three blokes drizzles through the filthy speakers within seconds of Lawnmower’s takeoff.

John Lydon, Scott Bowers-Defino, and Nate Sadowski may have emerged from the clippings of other experimental bands and may soak themselves in the art charade of noise rock and other appetites, but the ferocity of Fins is pure angsty rashness. Guitars slog away and sound just a touch out of tune, while the disquieting bang of drums pushes the lunacy ever forward.

Let it be said that the expanse of Lawnmower is found in the construction and subsequent deconstruction of the song, sometimes in the same exhausting breath.

“Foxfire” arrives with a buzz of guitar and a proud-sounding half-riff, but the garage blend underneath sullies it beyond recognition. The hooks are there, so are the vocals, and the sudden marvel that there is indeed a melody is shouted-off with a shove.

The same scrawny approach needles the motley title track and balls into Side Two starter “HAGS” without coming up for air.

By the time “Hold” is in the player, the car is zigzagging through the hills and the brakes are shot. With breakneck punk drive, the barked vocals take their course and the lanky guitars are drowning each other out in a knife fight to the death.

As cool as this may be, it’s doubtful that Fins will get far beyond the house party punk they’re pushing. And that, friends and lovers, may be the best commendation one can pay these loudmouths. That the demented racket of Lawnmower isn’t for everyone should be worn like a badge of honour.