Have you ever had one of those songs that gets stuck in your head for days…weeks…years? Sure you have. These are the songs that always make the cut. The songs on repeat. We all have them. I have a ton. Welcome back to Endless Loop.
“Cheap Beer” by FIDLAR
I drink a lot of beer. Not in an alcoholic way or anything, I just like to sample a large swath of different craft brews from all over the country. I even write about it. That being said, there was a time before the craft beer explosion, before I had a little bit of extra income to spend on pricier lagers and ales, before I grew up a little, when quantity always outweighed quality. The cheaper the beer, the better, because that meant there would be more of it.
I guess the point used to be to get drunk.
And that’s okay. That’s what it’s supposed to be all about when you’re young and dumb and snot nosed, sticking your middle fingers up at the whole world, spitting in the eyes of any and everyone standing in front of you, or barfing at their feet. And that youthful, intoxicated, fuck-off attitude embodies the ethos of punk rock to a tee, as perfectly manifested by LA punk band FIDLAR (Fuck It Dog, Life’s A Risk) and their charging, sneering, surf-rock inspired “Cheap Beer” from their 2013 self-titled record.
The song reminds me of misspent youth, of sneaking out at night, asking strangers or disreputable adults to buy us beer, and getting blitzed out of our heads. It reminds me of breaking stuff, running from cops, and living out fun, stupid, hilarious nights that we’ll never be able to remember. Good times.
But I’m a grownup now. I have kids of my own. I’ve reached the point where I’m “too old for this shit,” the wasted and reckless days and nights of being a teenager…or a twenty-something too, long behind me and probably for the better. But every once in a while, when I’m at a show, a Lone Star or PBR tallboy in my hand, that inkling comes back. And I think about drinking a little bit more and a little bit faster, and having another one of those kind of nights.
But then I think better of it…usually.
From a bunker somewhere in Central Texas, Thomas H. Williams spends most of his time with his wife, his two sons, and his increasingly neurotic dog. He listens to a lot of music, drinks a lot of excellent beers, and gets out from time to time. For even more shenanigans, visit heavenisanincubator.blogspot.com.