The Fags

No Fleas Lunch Money and Gold Teeth
by Scott Hefflon

I’m tempted to call The Fags punk rock simply because of their name, their loud production, and the fact that they write their lyrics in all capital letters. If they are punks, and not just a bunch of bitter, post-rock kids from Burlington, Vermont, that scraped up enough pocket change to rent some shit studio, then we may have new contenders for the junk rock kings of the Northeast. They can’t play, they don’t know how to tune, the singer can’t sing, and the production is rather erratic and sloppy – I love it! There’s an accordion on two of the songs, a narrative during a much-needed pee, and sufficient evidence of both both punk and rock to warrant the label punk rock. Any questions?