Album Review: Fuckin A by The Thermals

With a title that's as much a call to arms as a call to rock out, the Thermals' Fuckin A offers a darker, more developed version of the passionate, in-the-red indie rock of their debut, More Parts Per Million. The most immediately noticeable difference between the two albums is the sound quality: instead of recording most of the songs to a cassette player in Hutch Harris' kitchen, as the band did with their first album, this time the Thermals spent four days in a more traditional studio with friend/producer/Death Cab for Cutie guitarist/organist Chris Walla. The result is an album that sounds cleaner but still keeps most of the band's ramshackle energy.

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Although the concept of “punk rock” has been twisted, appropriated, and post-modernized most everywhere, the good people of America’s Pacific Northwest have managed to maintain a grip on punk’s most basic principles: Self-sufficiency, directness, and social engagement. K Records, Sleater-Kinney, and Nirvana are just a few examples of a West Coast scene that has maintained its allegiance to punk’s roots, even if the music’s sound has long since evolved. People like to blame the personality quirks of Northwesterners on the incessant rain, but I would hazard that it has more to do with the area’s stubborn adherence to traditional Western values, a sense that modernization and change are to be taken with a pinch of salt.

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