If you want a quick and dirty glimpse of what Milwaukee mainstays The Fatty Acids are all about, you need listen no further than the nine-second mark of their latest LP, Boléro. Because, after spending the first eight glorious seconds of “Girls and Gods” harmonizing chants and hand claps, the band not only piles in drums faster than kids at a Who concert, they add in an equivalent amount of howling to match; it’s a clustered call-to-arms for those of us whose idea of fun involves a delicate love tap of schizophrenia, and a warning signal for those of you who, well, don’t.
However, those of you who do fall into the latter category may be pleased to know that the noise quickly subsides into piano touches and hushed vocals, but (SPOILER ALERT) Boléro is chock-full of these wigged-out yet seamless transitions, constantly keeping the listener on edge, anxiously awaiting the band’s next time signature swap or volume switch.
I’m probably way overplaying how intense this is; lemme take a step back.
I’ve never seen The Fatty Acids live but I imagine most kids leave their shows worn out as all hell, having come down with cases of temporary hearing loss and shit-eating grins. Whether it be the wailing bassline on “Airsick,” the horn breakdown near the close of “Worst Part,” or the frantic vocals on “Human Tetris Bodies,” it just feels like the six dudes who make up this band are having one hell of a time with their music — and they want to share that experience with the listeners.
There’s no defining genre or tag for The Fatty Acids, besides maybe the fact that their isn’t one. The ’80s-style synths that cascade throughout Boléro aren’t the airy ones of indie-bedroom snobs; they’re wonky and obtuse. Horns make multiple appearances here but this sure as hell isn’t marching band. And the music sure makes me want to move, but I wouldn’t call it dance either.
And this unwillingness to be pinned down (musically, or quite literally) is what makes The Fatty Acids so fun. Half of the tracks on Boléro sound like they’re about to run straight off the tracks, and album-ender “Human Tetris Bodies” does just that, finishing without warning. Yet this is a skillful shot by the Fattys, and one that could be made only by a band who knows exactly when to leave the crowd craving for an encore. Hitting repeat on this colossal cluster-cuss of a record fulfills that craving: Boléro is full of fantastic music made to be enjoyed in a sweaty and loving live setting. While the Fatty Acids aren’t the next national buzz band, every city has their champion local act — and I’ll be damned if the Fatty Acids aren’t wearing Milwaukee’s crown.