Fugitive Bubble

Reviews

Fugitive Bubble Delusion LP

This hard, fast, and weird LP arrives hot on the heels of an excellent output of cassette releases, and it brings the goods. The cross-pollination of hardcore and the experimental spirit of the earliest stages of L.A. punk sounds lived in and confident, largely thanks to top-notch songwriting that’s catchy as a cold and lightning-paced. One thing I love is how present all the instruments are, each taking its own place proudly under the stage lights and being allowed to shine. It keeps the recordings, while decisively gritty, sharp as well. The bass in particular has a real punch to it. Cap it off with articulate and brazen vocals throughout and you’ve got a real winner. “Chickenhead,” which effortlessly blends tones and showcases the band’s ear for melody, is an easy standout with the group’s full powers shining brightly.

Fugitive Bubble No Outside cassette

Second release from this Olympia band, and second to be issued by the Stucco label’s cassette-only imprint Impotent Fetus. It appears they’ve been whittled down to a three-piece since their debut, with the bassist taking over primary vocal duties, but I think it’s resulted in a net positive for the band. Where their last release sounded like a cartoony take on WARM BODIES (not a bad thing!), the six tracks on this cassette find them tempering some of that egginess with a little post-punk flair and ending up with a more distinct product. The vocals are more restrained and sing-songy, though still pretty monotone, and they’ve been double-tracked and reverbed, calling to mind LITHICS or later NOTS records. The guitar is a little cleaner and drenched in surf levels of reverb, but the band is still playing the same quick, nervy hardcore punk. It’s a familiar collection of sounds, but it feels like a novel assemblage. Cool stuff!

Fugitive Bubble Fugitive Bubble cassette

As 2020 pulled up stakes, FUGITIVE BUBBLE shoved this butterfly knife of speed-racket jerk anthems into its ribcage with zero remorse. It’s getting harder and harder to sort out this type of punk—the kind that is impossible to nail down with regards to its immediate antecedents. Sure, there’s some C.C.T.V. in the DNA, but with a heaping portion of KBD to make sure all six songs leave a mark. Check the boxes—jackhammer drums, rusty razor guitar spray, somersaulting rhythms, and super-sarcastic vocals that sound so cool you almost hope that they’re making fun of you. This debut tape is, no doubt, Cool Fucking Punk, which is good for you, cuz you are a Fucking Cool Punk. Whew.