A few weeks ago, I got a tip that there was going to be an event at the skatepark in Kutná Hora. Besides a skateboarding competition, there were also going to be punk rock and hardcore bands playing. I explained to my preschool-age son that we were about to attend his first cultural event, and off we went. It took me back to my teenage years a little, and I decided to show my kids the culture I grew up with, as well as the connection between music and sport, which I have always found great.

One of the bands playing were Krang, a skate punk band from Valašsko, whom I last remember seeing about ten years ago at a show at Prague’s legendary 007 Strahov club. Krang play extremely melodic punk rock in the spirit of the Californian punk revival of the 1990s. This kind of music was a big part of my life in my early teens and actually helped lead me to my lifelong passion for punk. Bands like The Vandals, NOFX, Descendents or Millencolin are exactly what listeners into Krang will be looking for.

Although melodic punk rock isn’t really my personal favourite, I have no problem with it at all. Looking at it from today’s perspective, I appreciate this style mainly because it managed to bring so many teenagers into punk, no matter which branch of the scene they eventually ended up in.

Musically, Krang aren’t afraid to play around with all aspects of the genre, from the high-school love song Rory Gilmore to the artwork they use. The band’s aesthetic also draws heavily on the 1990s in every possible way, from the classic look to the aesthetics of old-school video games. Nice touch – no saving your progress, you little bastards.

At the same time, Krang openly acknowledge that they themselves belong to the millennial generation, which gives you a glimpse into the lyrical background of some of their songs. The band sticks to well-executed melodic punk revival, but every now and then they throw in a more sing-along and poppier track like Last Breath or Birdhouse. They aren’t afraid to play around with arrangements and gang vocals, as on Alf, or experiment with a sound à la Bad Religion, which can be heard on Running Out Of Time. Overall, the album covers pretty much the whole range of what I would expect from a good band in this genre.

Krang have grown into a world-class melodic punk rock band, as their touring schedule – which has already taken them around the globe – clearly shows. But what really proves it to me is that immediately after their set, my son very firmly ordered me to go and buy a Krang record. In the end, we had to get two.

Krang aren’t afraid to embrace the genre’s clichés, and the result is a likeable and enjoyable listen. Sure, at fourteen I would have blasted this record from my Walkman at full volume in the park. At twenty, I would probably have sneered at it just to make it clear that this was way too soft and that real punk was somewhere completely different. Today, I hear a very good record that fits perfectly within its genre, stays comfortably inside its boundaries with a sense of humour, and does it all at a very high level. The record also comes in a perfect gatefold sleeve, released by SBÄM Records.

Thanks to that skate event, I got the chance to return to my teenage years for a while, listen to music with my son that he clearly started enjoying too (even though I don’t force any of this stuff on him), and realise that Krang have grown into a Czech band that has long since gone far beyond our borders. And if my kids end up listening to this kind of music, I’ll consider my job as a parent well done.

I have respect for Krang not only because of their music, but also for the way they present themselves on stage and for their clear political and social stance, represented, among other things, by the song 1968 from their previous album (1968 was the year Czechoslovakia was invaded and occupied by Warsaw Pact troops).

TOP TRACKY: Rory Gilmore, Millenial Song, Running Out Of Time