“Oh no, not another pseudo-american pop punk band playing predictably poppy riffs layered with girly vocals.” That used to be my perception of Fastlane, despite me never actually hearing them until recently and despite the fact that a number of people told me otherwise. Then they sent me a Cd to listen to and requested that I try and put them on in Sheffield. “Oh no” I thought “I’m going to have to go though the whole ‘I would put you on but I don’t actually like your band’ shuffle”. But you know what, I’m not going to have to do anything like that, because they’re actually good, which is more than I can say for a number of bands who would be deemed as their contemporaries in the UK scene right now.
The main difference between Fastlane and said bands is that the London five piece appear to have balls. And I don’t mean balls in the ‘Here’s an idea, let’s get the bassist to scream a lot, unnecessarily’ kind of way. I mean in the big slabs of chunky riffs, delightful little guitar flourishes and energetic drumwork kind of way. Granted, the vocals are still way too saccharine sweet for my liking, but I’m willing to overlook this fact for the time being.
The weird thing is, if you stripped this band down to their individual attributes and made a list of them (falsetto vocals, poppy sensibilities, danceable pop punk breakdowns etc.) then we would be back where we started with my initial preconceptions and impending dislike of the finished product. The truth of the matter is that Fastlane are a fucking paradox of unintelligible proportions. I can’t get my head around how I can hate 90% of bands playing this kind of stuff yet continually grin like a drunken idiot whenever I put this CD on. Maybe it’s the slightly off kilter approach to melodies that they somehow pull off perfectly (See ‘Summer Falls’ for instance) or the little metal licks that raise a few reasonably generic riffs above the simple chord structures in which they inhabit (The intro to opener ‘Virus’ or the majority of ‘3rd Degree’ for example). Whatever it is, it bloody works and makes sure that nearly every single hook that is flung towards the listener manages to sink deeply into the subconscious.
I’m sure that if you asked any member of the band they’d happily concede that they are merely trying to put a new spin on an old and now vastly overused formula, but who can blame them when they’re that fucking good at it? The middle 8/breakdown in ‘3rd Degree’ is easily a work of genius, the rumbling metal-tinged riffs on ‘Dreaming’ and ‘Forget What We Were’ remind me of a bizarre combination of Thrice, The Starting Line and classic mid-90’s hard rock and ‘When It’s Over’ is a great end to the record.
Still, I imagine I’d love this band even more if the vocals were more akin to say Over It or Whippersnapper, two bands who Fastlane unintentionally borrow from in style and execution, as opposed to the slick pop tones that are actually present, but as they tend to fit the music anyway, I can forgive them for it. The fact is that Fastlane are probably one of, if not THE best at this style of music in the UK at the moment and this eleven tracker is a delight to listen to, especially with the summer months approaching.
Ross
