Echo Scale™: ★★★★✮ (4.9)
Remember that feeling when The Fragz first carved out their niche, making walls sweat and crowds grin like eejits? If Kenny’s review of “Onlyfragz” was anything to go by, that’s the “blink and you’ll miss it” magic this Scottish outfit brings. Now, with their full album, “Mount Neepcore,” The Fragz prove they’re not just setting the scene on fire; they’re burning the whole damn house down and laughing maniacally while they do it. This isn’t just an album; it’s a declaration that “neepcore” is here to stay, and it’s gloriously unhinged.
The Fragz have always been about taking Scottish punk back to its roots, then twisting it into something fresh, smart, and hilariously aggressive. If you thought “Onlyfragz” was a shot of espresso, “Mount Neepcore” is the whole damn pot, brewed with petrol and served with a side of delightful chaos.
Track By Track: Scaling “Mount Neepcore”
The journey up “Mount Neepcore” is a rollercoaster of raw energy and clever subversion, proving The Fragz are masters of their craft, even when they’re being deliberately daft.
“Hiyaaa” kicks things off with a curveball that’ll have you spitting out your Irn-Bru. Imagine a children’s TV intro, then twist it through a funhouse mirror reflecting some truly twisted lyrics about STDs. It’s so utterly unexpected, so perfectly on-brand for The Fragz’s tongue-in-cheek humour, that it’s impossible not to burst into laughter. This isn’t just a song; it’s a declaration that this band simply does not give a single shite, and we absolutely adore them for it.
Next up, “Peak of Humanity” greets you with a bassline so colossal, we thought it was yer mam. This track is a balls-to-the-wall, filthy punk riot that refuses to let up. It’s a serious, frustrated yell at society, yet it’s laced with that distinctive Fragz humour that only they can manage. Forget pristine production; this is punk rock in its rawest, most explosive form. Is this the peak of humanity? Hopefully not. Is it the peak of punk rock? It just might be.
As if to reinforce their “dinnae give a single shite” ethos, “Want You To Die” hits like an auditory mess – but in the very best possible way. The Fragz have this uncanny ability to transport you straight into one of their famously wild live shows with their recordings. It’s not rough around the edges; it’s an impeccably captured live essence. Driving guitars, monster drums, and a bassist with a… well, let’s just say a very impressive low end. Nicely done, indeed.
Then comes “FHC,” and prepare for a genuine surprise. This is a remarkably well-crafted song, showcasing a rare, vulnerable moment for The Fragz – and they absolutely nail it. For us, this is the undoubted highlight of the album. The rhythm section is locked in tight, the vocals are incredibly expressive, and that guitar tone? Phwoooaaar, it’s truly to die for. It’s a testament to their songwriting chops beneath the mayhem.
The ascent continues with “Temu Gangster,” launching off at 100mph right from the get-go. This track is another display of raw punk attack, but make no mistake: this isn’t three chords and no ability à la Ramones. This is punk done with surgical precision and boundless energy. Their note choices create an undeniable urgency, dragging you along for the ride. Like all truly great punk, it’s over before you even know what hit you, leaving you breathless and craving more.
“Happy Never After” shifts gears slightly, an offbeat little skankfest sporting one of the catchiest choruses on the entire record. It’s a clever departure from The Fragz’s usual relentless pace, showcasing their versatility with a vocal strain in the chorus that adds bags of personality. They clearly have more than one string to their bow, and this track is them flexing those muscles, brilliantly done.
Then there’s “Only Fragz,” a track we’ve already raved about, and for good reason. What more can be said about this absolute monster of a song? As Kenny rightly put it, if this song is The Fragz’s milkshake, it has successfully brought us to their yard – and we’re not leaving. It’s punk distilled to its best bits: fast-paced, relentless drums that barrel forward, hawkus, gritty guitars that snarl and punch, and big harmonies cutting through the noise. It’s short, sharp, and relentlessly driven, even throwing in a classic misdirection with a brief, sudden breakdown before roaring back into its abrupt, unapologetic finish. It’s a track that screams for a replay, and we’re more than happy to oblige.
In “Picture in a Frame,” the mix is so bass-heavy it’s almost jarring, yet it works. We’re once again greeted with an almost frustrated emotional vulnerability, a stark contrast to their usual humour-laced antics. This juxtaposition adds immense emotional depth, making it a truly loved standout.
“Too Much to Ask” is a searing middle finger to the issues plaguing modern society. The Fragz lay it bare, cutting right to the heart of the matter with a raw honesty that hits hard. “Just grow up and get along for fuck’s sake” is the distilled punk ethos here – a treatise against the state of the world set to searing guitars and huge drums. This isn’t just a song; it’s a necessary call to arms that demands, and deserves, multiple listens.
“Instamams” is a masterclass in humour, sadness, and brutal honesty all rolled into one. Mercilessly laying into a certain demographic (we all know who), The Fragz are, as always, bang on with their point. An upbeat riot featuring unexpected horns, a drum line that sounds utterly exhausting, and a snarling, piss-taking vocal, this is classic Fragz territory and an undeniable hit. Every line of this is pure comedic gold.
The intro to “Slug Party” grabs you immediately, with a vocal that truly resonates before the song erupts into another punk rock banger laced with The Fragz’s signature humour. This one had us in stitches. There’s a genuine poeticism in their blunt, take-no-prisoners comedic approach. It’s degenerate, stupid bullshit and we absolutely adore every second of it.
“No.1 Dad” is a political slugfest, a declaration of war. Once again, The Fragz absolutely nail it, both with the ferocity of the song and the undeniable accuracy of their point. Real, raw emotion is poured into this number. It’s well-written, as raw as chicken cooked behind a radiator, honest, truthful, and dead on the money. This, unequivocally, is what punk is all about.
“Ctrl Alt Del” proves that few bands can take you on the emotional rollercoaster that The Fragz can. Just when you think they’re a serious, political gut punch, they crack a joke about bawbags. When you assume they’re just an emotionally closed-off, funny band, they hit you with something as engaging, open, honest, and emotionally exposed as this. A huge song, a brilliant song, and truly The Fragz at their very best.
Finally, the album closes with “FHC (Reprise),” a lovely slow burn to end the night. It’s a reflective look back to earlier in the album, a fun, minute-long farewell that leaves you with a smile. Nicely done.
The Verdict: Why We Love The Fragz More Than Ever
Fans of The Fragz already know what to expect from “Mount Neepcore”: a gang of angry, yet utterly hilarious Scots yelling at you for a glorious few minutes. Each song is finished faster than a virgin at a whorehouse, leaving you desperate to hit repeat. While other artists might obsess over EQing guitar tones or tweaking drum attack, The Fragz simply don’t give a damn about that. Instead, they pour all that raw energy into writing aggressive, funny, and undeniably genius punk rock tunes.
We’ve loved these guys since day one, and “Mount Neepcore” only solidifies that affection. It’s a relentless, witty, and perfectly imperfect album that truly captures the spirit of Scottish punk, oscillating expertly between brutal humour, genuine vulnerability, and pure unadulterated rage. The sooner we can get ourselves up to Scotland to witness their live chaos, the better. Go on, give “Mount Neepcore” a listen – you won’t regret it.
