For many, fishing brings to mind a whole lot of casting, sitting and waiting — a favorite of grandpas and teenagers alike. But for Fishbait, fishing is gnarly, bloody, sewage-filled and above all, slimy. That’s the general message of their self-titled (and fittingly fish-themed) debut album: Bodies of water, whether bathtub or ocean, are forces of danger, death and the undiscovered deep. Band members J.J. Razor, Thomas Halligan and Nathan Ward infuse an uneasy feeling across the album’s six tracks — all with a sense of humor and playfulness right at home with the B-52’s sun-drenched beach hit “Love Shack.”
Each track on Fishbait feels musically in line with the push and pull of a fishing expedition, darting between spurts of stillness and excitement. The album regularly challenges a conventional song structure, with many songs shifting tempo at the drop of a verse, as if the fishing line tightens and slacks. The sporadic bursts of metal bass lines are reminiscent of the intense experience of reeling in a catch. Just as suddenly as the dynamic guitar solo begins, the act is dropped while slow, quiet vocals creep in — the fish on the line must’ve broken free.
Fishbait’s funk metal genre description rings true. The closing track, “Grundall,” best represents their style, both whimsical and gritty. A nearly eight-minute odyssey, it begins as an almost Rocky Horror Picture Show-esque tribute to a home-brewed creature (or monster; it’s hard to say) until fits of metal-death growl and rasp cut through, jarring and perfect.
A lot of care went into the making of this Iowa City band’s debut, particularly evident in its lyrical creativity and loose lore that invades each sonic adventure. In Fishbait’s world, there are many foreboding places and characters to stay away from.
In “Blue Lagoon,” a cursed place is described, inhabited by “sharks with 15 eyes on its beak.” “Mr. Rainbow” presents a fabled character that seems menacing to the children it beckons to. In “Sizzle,” the dangers of the deep got the best of poor Billy, whose skeleton is “turned into brine.” Even though the consequences for Fishbait’s cast of characters are often dark, the playfulness of their lore prevails, especially when the listener reaches the standout gem “Sharks in Bathtubs” — a six-minute song quite literally about a shark in the bathtub.
You won’t hear anything quite like this, and that’s a good thing. The tracks are haunting and memorable, while its musical odysseys lead to equally electrifying live costumed performances. Part classic metal, part punk-rock opera and part funk jam, Fishbait reclaims fishing culture from every guy holding a fish on a dating app and makes it cool again.
This article was originally published in Little Village’s September 2024 issue.
