MRR review (#330, fall 2010):
Terminal Boredom(end of summer 2010):
http://www.terminal-boredom.com/reviews26b.html
The Fitt are a power trio from Pittsburgh who have at least three singles out so far (two of them on Big Neck) and seem to get no respect or attention for whatever reasons. Well, I can see these dudes not being really "hip" in the scene, which makes me like them all the more for it. And they're playing in a style that isn't exactly fashionable right now, which again adds interest for me. Terrible joke title aside, this LP finds them grippin and rippin for some really exceptional heavy-rock action that I think a lot of people would dig on if they gave it the chance. The biggest touchstone while listening to this is Helmet's compact riff-and-move indie-metal churn-n-burn. The drummer is an abolute crusher and could probably give Stanier a run for his money, if not take him out completely. Pretty bad ass East Coast grunge, which is remarkably being played in 2010. I give them a hell of a lot of credit, they do it with real tenacity - and live, the distortion seeps out a little more and has them sounding more straight-up AmRep style dirty. As for this record, they mix up the long and short tunes for good pacing, "Pig Factory" is fucking massive, "Dry Skin" could be a 'Bleach'-era outtake with some added heft, they even get a Tad burly on some of these, if you know what I'm saying. Unsane during the gone metal years? But really, it sounds so much like Helmet I couldn't stop thinking of the video for "Unsung" every time I listen to this...you know, where they're playing in some blown-out warehouse and shit? It should be pretty easy to determine if you need this or not. Either you like riffs....Scum Stats: 500 copies, 45rpm white vinyl, the fetching artwork makes up for the bad title a little bit...(RK)
Here's one from French website PERTE ET FRACAS
(google translate is a joke, so I'm going to leave this in its original form:
http://www.perteetfracas.org/zine/kros2010/kros_f/fittshan.htm
The Fitt n'est pas le genre de groupe à faire dans la dentelle et se prendre la tête. Le vinyl est blanc épais. Il tourne en 45 tours. Ce sont les seules fantaisies que le trio de Pittsburgh s'est permis. Trio droit dans ces bottes, il nous refait le coup du Hammerhead de Ethereal Killer. Punk-rock noise où les perles rugueuses à la mélodie virile s'enchaînent comme dans un rêve. Même emprunt de nostalgie. Mais quand c'est bon, ça ne vieillit jamais. Les années passent et on ne fait rien de mieux qu'un riff killer, une rythmique qui bastonne et des voix qui sentent l'homme pour reprendre en chœur. Dans la continuité de leur dernier single en date (Hawk Eyes), The Fitt vous met sur les rotules. Avec application. En appuyant toujours sur le même bouton, avec une obstination forçant le respect. Jusqu'au-boutiste et indécrottable. The Fitt met également du Nirvana de l'époque Breach. Deux accords, trois grand maximum, joués avec une conviction inébranlable, qui font mouche à chaque fois, le terme efficacité ayant été inventé pour eux. Du bonheur à chaque sillon, en toute simplicité, à l'image des paroles de Kate, chanson d'amour aux paroles d'une puérilité désarmante. Il faut attendre la fin de chaque face avec Pig Destroyer et When The Fitt hit the shan (qui est au passage un jeu de mot intraduisible avec une expression typiquement américaine) pour des morceaux un peu plus longs et encore plus abrasifs, démontrant que The Fitt est capable de compter au-delà de trois. Mais on s'en tape, on les aime comme ça The Fitt, digne représentant d'un punk-rock canal historique. Bien sûr, tout le monde risque de passer à coté de ce disque, surtout avec une pochette aussi splendide qui donne envie, œuvre du bassiste qui a osé mettre le mot Art à coté de son nom. Alors devant ce disque distribué avec les pieds, n'hésitez pas à écrire à The Fitt (pawdt@aol.com) pour obtenir votre copie.
SKX (07/09/2010)
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
here are some reviews/write ups about the record/release show last month:
Pittsburgh City Paper Article
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette Article
Dusted Review:
Possibly posthumous rager (they’re missing a drummer that can play like the guy on this record) from a Pittsburgh youth rock trio, steeped in grunge and the indifference that leads to chaotic-good chopbusting noise. Lots of chunky palm-mute guitar, lots of explosive drumming, lots of locking in on simple themes, and really, that is all this sort of music needs to qualify as a success. They get a lot of mileage out of two notes and some tension (“Dry Skin,” seemingly about two friends who used to get high together, and the other one just kept on going while our narrator moved on), recalling of-that-moment bands like Nirvana B-sides (still the standard-bearer for this type of shit), Kittens, earlier Soundgarden (their “Kate” is a polite, thankful sendup of “Full On Kevin’s Mom,” stripped down to 55 seconds), and Helmet. You don’t think about this kind of music; you just get into it and get out. Which is probably all the Fitt expects of you. Let’s hope they reform and continue to slam it out as soon as possible. Not many of these to go around, so step lively. White vinyl, lurid sleeve.
(Doug Mosurock)
DUSTED
Pittsburgh City Paper Article
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette Article
Dusted Review:
Possibly posthumous rager (they’re missing a drummer that can play like the guy on this record) from a Pittsburgh youth rock trio, steeped in grunge and the indifference that leads to chaotic-good chopbusting noise. Lots of chunky palm-mute guitar, lots of explosive drumming, lots of locking in on simple themes, and really, that is all this sort of music needs to qualify as a success. They get a lot of mileage out of two notes and some tension (“Dry Skin,” seemingly about two friends who used to get high together, and the other one just kept on going while our narrator moved on), recalling of-that-moment bands like Nirvana B-sides (still the standard-bearer for this type of shit), Kittens, earlier Soundgarden (their “Kate” is a polite, thankful sendup of “Full On Kevin’s Mom,” stripped down to 55 seconds), and Helmet. You don’t think about this kind of music; you just get into it and get out. Which is probably all the Fitt expects of you. Let’s hope they reform and continue to slam it out as soon as possible. Not many of these to go around, so step lively. White vinyl, lurid sleeve.
(Doug Mosurock)
DUSTED
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