Gold Chains by General Fiasco: A Little Gem That Still Shines
Man, there's something about Gold Chains by General Fiasco that just sticks to your brain like an old sticker on a guitar case. Released back in 2012 under Dirty Hit (yeah, the same label that gave us The 1975), this UK indie rock gem is one of those albums you stumble across and think, "Why didn’t anyone tell me about this sooner?" It’s not perfect—heck, it doesn’t even try to be—but its raw charm and unapologetic energy make it feel alive.
The album kicks off with two versions of the title track: “Gold Chains” and “Gold Chains (Instrumental).” And honestly? Both hit different but equally cool spots. The instrumental version feels like staring out of a train window while the world blurs past. There’s no lyrics to distract you, just these lush layers of melody that swell up and fade away again. You don’t need words when the music speaks for itself, right? It’s kinda haunting in a good way, like hearing someone hum their deepest thoughts without saying a word.
Then comes the full version of “Gold Chains,” which flips the mood completely. Suddenly, we’ve got vocals diving into themes of ambition, pressure, and chasing dreams—all wrapped up in punchy hooks and crunchy guitars. Owen Strathern’s voice has this raspy edge to it, like he’s been screaming at life for too long but still hasn’t lost his spark. What gets me every time is how relatable it feels. Like, yeah, who hasn’t felt chained down by expectations or tried to break free from their own mental junk? This song reminds me of late-night drives where everything seems possible until reality crashes back in.
What makes Gold Chains stand out isn’t some big flashy production or over-the-top solos—it’s the honesty. These guys weren’t trying to reinvent the wheel; they were just making music that mattered to them. And somehow, almost ten years later, it still matters to listeners like me. Indie rock can sometimes feel pretentious, but not here. No, this is real-deal stuff.
By the end of the album, I always find myself thinking, “Wow, what happened to these guys?” Did they get swallowed up by the industry machine? Or did they just move on to other things? Either way, Gold Chains remains this little capsule of early 2010s indie magic. Oh, and fun fact—I once saw someone wearing actual gold chains at a house party and couldn’t stop humming the album all night. Life’s weird like that.
