When considering Los Angeles outfit The Interrupters, take a moment to kindly forget jargon like “SoCal punk rock” or “next wave ska” or whatever perimeter you want to secure around them. A typical Interrupters gig feels like going to church where all the religious iconography is taken out and replaced with mirrors so the band and audience become one. Ignited by frontwoman Aimee Interrupter and the Bivona brothers’ indefatigable enthusiasm, attendees can see joy in action; discover strength in numbers; and feel bulletproof when facing the forces that haunt them. There are no victims or outcasts in attendance when the quartet are onstage: Transfixed by the legendary ‘80s 2 Tone ska movement and fueled with a contemporary energy that makes 180-bpm thrash-metallers seem positively slack, Aimee Interrupter and the Bivona brothers Kevin, Justin and Jesse blur the enthusiasm between band and audience in a way that’s equal parts dance party, cardio workout and personal therapy.
“I had no intention to ever write any sort of anti-establishment songs,” admits Roe Kapara, the incisive songwriter hailing from Los Angeles by way of St. Louis. “I think it’s just the shock of living right now.” With half a million monthly Spotify listeners sharing his sense of hopelessness about the world they've inherited, Kapara translates the frustrations of coming of age in modern America into five sharp-witted songs on his EP Big Cigars and Satin Shorts. In this second release under Epitaph Records, Kapara marries a radical punk ethos with electrifying indie-rock spirit, offering a poignant reflection of how an entire generation of desensitized, bleeding-heart young people are feeling.