Fust––the lyrical powerhouse Southern rock band from Durham, North
Carolina––announce their new album Big Ugly, out March 7th on Dear Life
Records, the record label that launched the careers of MJ Lenderman and Florry
and that has become a haven for contemporary songwriters. Big Ugly arrives
after the release of 2024’s Songs of the Rail––“one of the best alt-country
compilations…in a long, long time” (Paste) –– and 2023’s standout Genevieve,
which unassumingly introduced new listeners to Fust’s unmistakable blend of
“small-town poetry” (Mojo) with a familiar yet probing “country-tinged folk-rock”
(KEXP) that made it “one of the most fun rock records of the year” (Pitchfork).
Genevieve was their studio debut, recorded with producer Alex Farrar (Manning
Fireworks, Rat Saw God, Tomorrow’s Fire) in Asheville, North Carolina. The
reception was far better than the band expected, stirring them to immediately
start working on Big Ugly, their second collaboration with Farrar. Recorded over
ten days in June of 2024, Big Ugly is the explosive sound of Fust uncovering a
freedom within their sincere form of loose and fried guitar rock, realizing more
than ever before an intimacy within bigness. The members –– Aaron Dowdy,
Avery Sullivan, Frank Meadows, John Wallace, Justin Morris, Libby Rodenbough,
Oliver Child-Lanning––weave their voices alongside guests like Merce Lemon,
Dave Hartley (The War on Drugs), and John James Tourville (The Deslondes) to
form a music that sounds like a conversation between old friends. And that’s
exactly what it is.At its heart, Big Ugly is a story cycle, following tough-skinned characters who
seem to inhabit a shared and fictional small town––Big Ugly––that in reality gets
its name from a lowly populated and unincorporated area in southern West
Virginia around where Dowdy’s family has deep roots. The album cover—a
mural from the Big Ugly Community Center just off the Big Ugly Creek––was
painted by locals for a 2004 play performed by the children that interpreted
their elders’ stories. In a way, Fust’s Big Ugly does something similar as it takes
the same area as its backdrop and reimagines a life depicted in the mural
between the bars, gas stations, general stores, and double-wides. Throughout
the album, we join the characters in finding history and meaning in the banal
theater of their own private jerkwater.The songs on Big Ugly are hearteningly varied, moving from beer-fisted radio
country to elegiac drones to deconstructed ballads. Songs like “Spangled” take
up the theme of past traumas and present desensitizations colliding, of the
small and cosmic coinciding in the life of a heedless protagonist. “Bleached”
finds the soul-searching narrator recalling the feeling of inner vacancy in their
childhood: thoughtless, speechless, herded around like cattle in backseats. And
“Mountain Language” laments the poverties of Southern life at the same time
that it promotes a higher poverty, a country utopia that’s just out of grasp,
where we could live if we could only “make it up the mountain again.” The
mystical hermeticism and the dime-store everyday are two sides of every
insignificant thing in the town of Big Ugly.