Rock will never die, a wise Canadian said a few years ago. Wonder what happened to that dude? Or most rock, for that matters? Don’t mean to sound old, but I turn the radio and it all sounds loud, the clone of a clone of a clone of compression.

The Fiction will not break any moulds, but it’s a breathe of relief. It’s dirty rock, all in a small package called The Greatest Hits EP . Beats naming it Greatest Misses. Enough crankiness, get out of my lawn, kids, and hear the straight rockers. ‘The union’ sounds like what was distributed to us critics back as “post grunge”. Never got what was all that about, it still is rock and roll to me. It’s some vanilla rock that is there to get you in the mood, no more no less. Foreplay rock, yes, that is the term.

‘Never enough’ is The Fiction making the statement about how the previous track was anti-pasto; now is the time to pay the piper. Punchier and edgier, it’s the son that Generation X and Bloc Party never admitted to have, but the Trustcompany might (different tuning, though). ‘Worlds apart’ is the steak to the rich soup ‘Never enough’ was. Vocals are like a sorrowful James Hetfield (no juice and no Mustaine make him sad) and although not a power ballad by no means, it’s the slower moment. A hint of Silverchair, maybe? Those 5 minutes are well spent and this is The Fiction in what feels like their turf: palm muting, riffs and a solo doing cartwheels.

It’s my first day at Sloucher and I got three EPs to review. I’m used to albums! ‘Bragging rights’ is a good closer. Again, it’s some punk chasing a guy with an album cover painted on his jeans (editor’s note: Denim! – Sam) jacket. Good solo, grungy enough to satisfy the flannel mafia in all of us.

That’s it. Now, I gotta check on my moonshine. Tell the drummer to be careful with that kit, he’s having too much fun in ‘Bragging rights’.

For Fans of: Early 2000s rock.

Words: Uncle Seth

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