Fake Fruit: Fake Fruit | Review
For Fake Fruit, there’s no shortage of things to be pissed off about, so you might as well enjoy the ride. The Oakland, California band’s coltish self-titled debut favors spirited punk primitivism and two-minute art-rock tracks—punchy, melodic songs united by nervy guitars and cutting takedowns of modern frustrations (scene-y social structures, bad sex, the “plight” of men). Miraculously, they manage to avoid self-serious posturing, resulting in an occasionally dissonant, frequently delightful album where fun and fury overlap. Rarely does a band’s first record speak with such a trenchant voice.
Fake Fruit has had time to figure itself out: Chief songwriter and frontperson Hannah “Ham” D’Amato originally founded the band in 2016 in New York, then moved to Vancouver, B.C. and restarted as a trio, before finding new footing in Oakland. There, she secured a semi-finalized lineup—lead guitarist Alex Post, drummer Miles MacDiarmid, and a rotating cast of bassists—as well as a few side gigs: deejaying Chicano soul and oldies at events hosted by psych-rock eclecticist Sonny Smith of Sonny and the Sunsets and once playing in a Suburban Lawns cover …
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