Fear
The Record

THE REVIEW

If you listen to the lyrics of any track from "The Record" and try to say that this was a group of lunatics, criminals, delinquents, maniacs, well, I tell you... that you're absolutely right.

Fear, led by Lee Ving (who also had a decent film career, especially in the '80s, which highlights his great personality) and born at the end of the '70s, were among the first and foremost exponents of Californian hardcore. And of the hardcore wave, they were among the dirtiest, meanest but also among the most influential and gifted bands, managing to add seemingly out-of-place elements like blues and jazz, creating an alternative hardcore, a sort of pre-crossover.

The lyrics, primarily focused on urban decay, petty crime, and the squalor of high society, accompanied by the filthiest bar language you've ever heard, are a fundamental point in Fear's music. However, before securing a record deal, Fear had to endure about four years of grunt work during which they dedicated themselves to igniting their concerts with brutality, which often ended in fights and the consequent expulsion of our four heroes from the most run-down venues in Los Angeles. The turning point came in '81 when they were featured (along with other significant bands of that era like Black Flag, Germs, X, and others) in the musical documentary "The Decline Of Western Civilization" and participated in an episode of "Saturday Night Live" endorsed by John Belushi. Thanks to this popularity, they managed to create the masterpiece called "The Record."

"The Record" is a lightning-fast album (15 tracks lasting from a minimum of one minute to a maximum of two and a half minutes), it kicks off with "Let's Have A War," intense from start to finish; "Beef Boloney" starts slow with Lee Ving leisurely accompanied by guitar only, then unexpectedly erupts into furious choruses and dizzying distortions; "Camarillo" also starts strong, interspersed with Spanish-style solos heart-stopping. Then comes one of the masterpieces, "I Don't Care About You," almost melodic but very powerful with drums in the foreground; "New York's Alright If You Like Saxophones" is one of those tracks you don't expect with that wonderful drum start and especially the sax solos, played by Lee Ving himself. The album continues brilliantly without missteps, among the noteworthy are: "I Love Livin' In The City," another masterpiece with a relentless rhythm and irreverent lyrics, the violent "Foreign Policy," the excessively sped-up cover of the Animals' "We Got To Get Out Of This Place," the decadent "Getting The Brush" and the closing "Fuck Christmas" which starts with melodic arpeggios and a light rhythm only to explode into a superlative hardcore, all in 45 flat seconds.

This is a must-have record, a pity that Fear then lost their musical way and didn't repeat the unrepeatable.