There's no place like California's Central Valley, and it get gets even more interesting as you travel south towards Los Angeles. Bakersfield is the last bastion of sun baked agricultural freakzone - close enough to the "cool" megalopolis and all of its culture and self assigned relevance to feel within reach....but one hundred miles is a motherfucker, and walking those streets feels more like Madera or Stockton than Hollywood (or San Pedro). What does that mean? Fuck, I'm just a middle aged transplant from Oklahoma rambling on the night before god's birthday over here, but it seems to me that the punk from places that are a little *off* often sounds a lot more *on* if you know what I mean. We're talking about the place that brought Munoz Gym to the punk world. Jerry's Pizza was an institution when I got maced there on New Year's Eve 1998 and is still hosting gigs in its shitty ass basement. Bakersfield is just different, and the punk that comes from there sounds a little rougher around the edges. Enter: SKALV. Fidelity be damned, this five song metallic crust attack from 2015 lands just fukkn right - raw, intense, honest...fukkn brutal. SKALV sounds like sun baked punk working class from a place that's just out of reach.
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