Swingin' Utters

Man, these days everyone with a chipped tooth and a bad haircut says they’re street punk. It’s almost gotten to the point where it just seems like gimmickry, like being bi-polar or good looking. But once in a while, a dude who works in a warehouse gets together with a truck driver and makes shit kickin’ punk rock songs so ball-smashingly radical that they end up getting the guys from Me First and the Gimme Gimmes and One Man Army to help ‘em sing, and the end result is everybody’s favorite San Francisco institution that isn’t completely riddled with glory holes, the Swingin’ Utters. I know what you’re saying: what the fuck am I doing reading a Swingin’ Utters bio in 2011? Sure, they’re pretty much the trailblaizenist band that ever decided to put grandpa’s banjo and spittoon next to the marshall full stacks and the booze, but what have they done lately? Well, I’ll tell you, you impudent young whippersnapper. They’ve recorded Here, Under Protest, the single best album of their already award winning career (handsomest ballsack on a punk, 2001-02 [Darius]) and that’s saying something. It’s, as Ron Burgundy would attest, a pretty big deal. It’s a big ... more...