Fake Fruit: Mucho Mistrust

Becoming swept away by Mucho Mistrust, the second studio album by the Bay Area post-punks Fake Fruit, was my most delightful musical surprise of this calendar year. Mucho Mistrust is so densely packed with unmatched levels of energy, intrigue, and idiosyncrasy that every listen uncovers new nuggets of riffs and lyrics, skids and detours, to admire. With the exception of “Venetian Blinds,” each track is propelled by Ham D’Amato, a vocal performance that is equal parts husky deadpan and arresting ferocity, adroitly swinging between punk apathy and swagger. The guitar parts of Mucho Mistrust dance around one another, intertwining before bouncing off each other like shrapnel. Fake Fruit delivers endless variety with songs that range from the skittish, angular, Gang of Four-style of “See It That Way” and “Psycho,” the distorted rippers like “Más O Menos,” spun out odysseys such as “Mucho Mistrust” and “Venetian Blinds,” and reflective tracks like “Long Island Iced Tea” and “Ponies.” With each play of Mucho Mistrust, I find myself increasingly sucked into Fake Fruit’s warped and fitful post-punk frenzy, and now I’m completely absorbed in their world until another Fake Fruit record can set me free.