I don’t know what a fist city is, but all of my images feel pretty wrong and awful and my therapist always says I should share the wrong and awful stuff, so here it goes:

1. A city where all the buildings aren’t buildings but fists with giant meaty, sausage fingers. There’s hair all over the knuckles and everyone’s offices are in the gross sweaty web-part between the curled fingers. Architects are pissed.

2. The urban equivalent of that game you played in high school, ‘The Gauntlet’, where a bunch of people stood across from each other in two lines and you’d run through and they’d hit you and kick you and when you made it to the end you got to become a part of the line and hit and kick other people. I guess by “game” I meant senseless act of pointless violence that only children can come up with. And this is a whole city of that.

3. Oh and lets not forget about old fist city. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.

None of this even starts to describe Fist City though. This Fist City isn’t painful or architecturally awkward, oh no, it’s good natured punk rock deeply imbued with what sounds like the early stages of The Spin Doctors. Clearly that sounds like an insult, but it isn’t. This is peppy upbeat punk with just a taste of the boppy goodness that made 90s rock ‘n’ roll so goddamn earnest.

Fist City’s new album It’s 1983, Grow Up! is out now on Black Tent Press.