THE FRONT ROW

There’s something deliciously feral about the new single from The Perps. The Culture doesn’t just knock on your door, it kicks it down, barges in, and shouts straight into your face like an old mate who’s just done three Jägerbombs and wants to talk about the state of the world. And honestly? You’ll want to hear them out.

Straight from the off, this one’s got that turned-up-to-11 energy. The guitars growl and howl with that classic, raw Brit-rock grit, unapologetically loud, delightfully distorted, and dripping with attitude. There’s a punch in every chord, and it hits hard. Think early Kasabian before they got all synthy and polished, back when they had something to prove and a chip on their shoulder the size of Leicester. There’s that same swagger here, but it’s mixed with something a little more restless, a little more now.

Vocally, Seb Smith channels that raucous edge that fans of The Luka State will recognise, a throaty, full-throttle delivery that rides the chaos with precision. It’s equal parts frustration and fire, and when paired with those rallying lyrics, you’ve got yourself a proper modern-day anthem for the disenchanted.

Lyrically, The Culture punches up. It’s an anti-anthem for the overly curated, algorithm-fed generation, a rally cry against the plastic sheen of modernity. The chorus doesn’t just get stuck in your head; it burrows in and builds a bonfire. The song speaks for the ones who feel like they were born out of sync, craving something dirtier, sweatier, more real. It’s the sound of someone who’s finally had enough of scrolling and wants to feel something again.

And feel it you will. Everything about this track screams movement, not just in tempo, but in its intention. It moves from the gut, from that instinctive need to scream into the void with your mates beside you and a pint in your hand. It’s not refined, it’s not polished, and thank god for that. Because The Culture isn’t trying to fit in. It’s trying to tear the whole thing down.

That said, it’s not all chaos and carnage. Underneath the distortion and drive, there’s some sharp songwriting at play. The track’s structure is tight, the transitions are slick, and the hook is as sharp as a flick knife. It’s a fine line between raw and reckless, and The Perps balance it beautifully.

What’s really exciting here is how they manage to sound both familiar and fresh. There’s a clear nod to their influences, the spit-and-sawdust indie rock of the mid-2000s, the anthemic snarl of bands like The Enemy or early Arctic Monkeys, but it never feels derivative. Instead, The Perps repackage it with a Gen Z sneer, tapping into that same spirit of defiance with their own modern lens.

In an age where a lot of guitar music feels afraid to shout too loud, The Culture is a welcome dose of catharsis. It’s loud, proud, and drenched in heart. This is music for festivals before the sun goes down, for those moments when you want the world to just shut up for three minutes and thirty seconds while you lose yourself in something real.

With The Culture, The Perps don’t just make noise, they make a statement. And if this is the direction they’re heading in, you’d be mad not to jump on board now.

FFO: The Luka State, early Kasabian, The Enemy
Add to your playlist if you miss when indie rock still had something to shout about.