Semi naked blokes, fighting, beer-flinging, shockingly gross references and unbridled anarchic rock ‘n’ roll…this gig had it all.

Date: February 24, 2014

Venue: Bodega

From London’s scablands come this literal yet socially degenerate country-punk group of six debauched miscreants, hell bent on being subversive, controversial and utterly antagonistic.

With lyrics such is “We’re gonna bomb Disneyland then Legoland”, and with disgustingly obvious sexually-charged sub-plots and profane and grotesque undercurrents, FWF are here to shock.

With naked torsos on show and a devil may care attitude (they arrived nearly four hours late!), they launch into the druggy My Bloody Valentine-esque Auto Neutral.

Is it Raining in Your Mouth? is a salacious, pervy Jake Bugg-ish track, all deep and dark vocals until it escalates into chaos with the repeated mantra “five sweaty fingers on the dashboard”, which has all sorts of lascivious connotations. And guess what Without Consent is about…

Elsewhere, Wet Hot Beef maybe innocent, but due to the band’s history and aesthetic, it comes across as promiscuous and provocative, while Cream of the Young could be debasing, could be harmless, but the meandering riff and vodka-induced cruscendo is pure filth.

The afore-alluded to Bomb Disneyland is lyrically and aesthetically, let’s say, not family friendly, while its flagrant proto-punk lewdness propels front man Lias Saudi into the crowd, displaying his derrière in the process.

Saudi actually entered the stage wearing a suit. But bare flesh was always going to be on display.

Living up to expectations, they’re a band that kicks sand in the face of contemporary values, sticks two fingers up to the industry, spits Jack Daniels on conformity and dances naked on the quivering cadaver of popular music.