Uploaded September 2025 | Updated September 2026, 2 hours ago
Thanks to Aaron Badgley - Music Author CFRU 93.3 FM for this fantastic interview opportunity and all of the kind words. Always a pleasure to talk with such a knowledgeable individual! Cin Cin!
New single presave is here https://push.fm/ps/u4zzzppy
Phil Cook & the Fall Dogs – “Click It, Crank It, and Ride That Curl”
If Annette and Frankie had traded their surfboards for smartphones, this is the soundtrack they’d be fighting over on the beach. The song’s roots are pure surf punk—sun-bleached guitar jangle twisted into something bratty and jagged—but instead of drag races and summer flings, it’s TikTok doomscrolls and AI-ghosted relationships.
Love here isn’t lost in the sand; it’s buried under memes, likes, shares, and that creepy sense your partner’s voice might just be a chatbot echo. The chorus pounds like a push notification, relentless and mocking, until the whole thing collapses in a tidal wave of “data, data, data,data” and—poof—she’s gone.
It’s a breakup song wired for the digital beach party: surf punk angst with a glowing blue screen tan. Annette and Frankie never saw this wipeout coming.
Thanks to Aaron Badgley - Music Author CFRU 93.3 FM for this fantastic interview opportunity and all of the kind words. Always a pleasure to talk with such a knowledgeable individual! Cin Cin!
New single presave is here https://push.fm/ps/u4zzzppy
Phil Cook & the Fall Dogs – “Click It, Crank It, and Ride That Curl”
If Annette and Frankie had traded their surfboards for smartphones, this is the soundtrack they’d be fighting over on the beach. The song’s roots are pure surf punk—sun-bleached guitar jangle twisted into something bratty and jagged—but instead of drag races and summer flings, it’s TikTok doomscrolls and AI-ghosted relationships.
Love here isn’t lost in the sand; it’s buried under memes, likes, shares, and that creepy sense your partner’s voice might just be a chatbot echo. The chorus pounds like a push notification, relentless and mocking, until the whole thing collapses in a tidal wave of “data, data, data,data” and—poof—she’s gone.
It’s a breakup song wired for the digital beach party: surf punk angst with a glowing blue screen tan. Annette and Frankie never saw this wipeout coming.
