It’s 2010. You’re at a dive bar somewhere in North Jersey when this little band comes on whose name you never learned. The set goes by in a flash, a livewire of spunky punk-rock anthems of love had and lost, of pissy angst, of singular moments in hectic adolescence.
Cut to eight years later at a massive club in Philadelphia, where this same band, who you now know and love as The Front Bottoms, has cultivated their sticky-as-the-barroom-floor sound into an aesthetic all their own. Continue reading →