Review: Christian Stanger
I came across Fiddlehead in 2023, almost by accident. I was in a restless mood after my own band finished jamming and parked up in the Valley about 20 minutes before they went on, not really expecting anything, but it was a cheap gig and they sell beer at the Crowbar. What I found was a packed room on a weeknight, with punters crowding the stage, getting up, jumping off and singing every word. I didn’t know much about the band then, and I’m no expert on the post-hardcore scene, but that kind of energy and sincerity is impossible to ignore.
Listening to the Baby, I’ll Change EP, those qualities remain front and centre.
The EP finds vocalist Pat Flynn in a reflective mood. The three tracks seem less concerned with looking forward and more focused on how we got here and what has guided us. While more restrained than 2023’s Death Means Nothing To Us, the emotion that has made Fiddlehead‘s name remains intact.
‘Dogs’ opens with big open chords and splashy drums that are closer to late-’90s alt-rock than hardcore. Flynn’s powerful, raspy vocals straddle the line between earnest indie rock and rough-around-the-edges punk, but the triumphant chorus offers something different. “I just miss my mum and dad” is a moment of stunning vulnerability that builds with gang vocals as Flynn sings about the bond he has with his bandmates. A reminder that authenticity is still around in some corners of modern music.
‘Porchlight’ again finds Flynn drawn into the past. The lyrics are partially obscured beneath layers of distortion, but the feeling comes through clearly. The music, by itself, is super evocative. Minor chords and hazy guitars evoke memories deep in the past while Flynn continues to return to the imagery of the porchlight itself: a beacon in the night. Flynn belts out “the porchlight’s on”, a line which only he could make sound profound.
The title track takes its name and emotional weight from the real-life story of Boston hardcore figure Jimmy Flynn, whose struggles with addiction ultimately claimed his life. The voicemail that closes the song is genuine, one of many messages left in the few years before his death. Knowing that context transforms what initially sounds like another song about regret into something carrying much more weight. The arrangement is patient, allowing tension and emotion to build over oceans of reverb before guitars and drums finally surge past Flynn’s pleadings and, by the time the voicemail is played, the track is more like a eulogy. Like a real person believing there is still time to make things right.
Baby I’ll Change the EP will be out this Friday via Run For Cover/Civilians.
