From the long dormant landline of Johnnie Regalado:

There’s no shortage of influences when you first crack open the music of Fountain. That isn’t surprising given that half the band members were raised by the kind of dude that had the guts to recently open a record shop in Kelowna, BC. The spiking duo of guitar lines recall Calgary legends Women. The low-toned vocal wash was clearly picked up from a summer of deafening exposure to Copenhagen’s finest noise-punks Iceage. But there’s also an island-life-inspired lightness that separates this band’s twisted tunes.

Assembled as Fountain, they’ve been tight and raucous since their amps first warmed up. This quartet who are usually all smiles and wylin’ out have some loud and lengthy lineage in Victoria. Their debut release demonstrates how a perfectionist approach can really float the tone above its own noise. The dual guitars howl like wild hounds left out in the backyard. The vocals have that same dragging and raspy drawl as a rough morning’s first dialogue. The bass and drum lines are the sleek sweeps that usher the frenetic thrash forward. This 20-minute collection of jams feels responsible for maintaining the momentum of the earth’s constant rotation.