Firethorn accept that being includes both aggression and defense, beauty and ugliness, privilege and lack. They create songs in an attempt to articulate and embrace these facets, and in doing so find personal freedom.


Southern California has an image problem. Although its fine residents know better, many outsiders look to it as a Mecca of ex-hippies and over-paid businessmen in wetsuits, whose spoiled brats litter the beaches and will never know an honest day’s work. This image is undoubtedly perpetuated in part by SoCal’s musical offerings in recent years. Despite the voices of those who screamed before (SST happened just up the higway), the spotlight has been given to whiny suburban pop punk, the lackluster of American-British-indie-disco, and the devoid-of-all-substance rehash of 80s synth music.

Beneath the façade of endless summer, however, something is stirring. From underneath the rocks and piers in San Diego, voices are emerging to dispel the rumors of media-produced fantasy and embrace the humanity that exists here under the sun.

With musical cues from their heroes like Fugazi, Mudhoney, Nirvana, and Nomeansno coupled with an insatiable lust for live performance, FIRETHORN have been capably carrying the torch of aggressive music throughout the southwest, adding their own style of kicking the sand in your eye while still leaving you with something to sing in your head for the ride home.

In a world covered in scarves and make-up, who will profess the beauty of blemished, flawed nature? Who can bend your mind with noise-drenched sing-alongs that blur the lines between the thunder stance and skipping to school??? Who can leap through the monitors and grind their dissident wails into the floor of your soul, leaving you moaning for more, More, MORE?!?!?!

Firethorn exists to satisfy these primal musical urges . . . and they have a bubble machine.


You Think You're So Smart

Written By: C. Dines

Here's a confession
Reason for aggression and it goes beyond my personal taste
What a waste of youthful tension!
Retirees? Please!
How you gonna quit before you turn 43?
Midlife crisis? Never left the playpen!
Being so well fed
You never learned how to hunger
And what you're told must be what's best
Well, little piggies
Don't you know you're lined up for the slaughter?
You'll buy the farm like all the rest
Just another liar lost prophet trying to get rich quick
You stupid prick
You're so full of emotion when you claim to be so numb?
Blind being led by the deaf and dumb!
Writing books is such a risky business
Chiseled, slated
'Cause hearts will change after a while
If greatness looked you in your face
or kissed your head with mercy
You wouldn't know it anyhow
One more question . . .
Who the hell are you
come into my house and try to steal my face and my name,
helping culture dig an early grave?
Outta my way before I'm smashing in your face!
Grinding teeth into the pavement!
And on and on it goes
Your narrow-minded tunnel vision
But I can change me anyhow
Taking comfort in the knowledge that I don't know nothin'
Some good ideas coming now . . .


Pollution For the Fountain of Youth - 2008