Filthy Filthy’s “Bad Apple” isn’t here to sit quietly in the fruit bowl—it’s the song that rolls off the counter, bruises itself on the tile, and still insists on starting a mosh pit in your kitchen. With raunchy, racy guitar riffs and a bassline meatier than a late-night drive-thru burger, this track is built to be loud, sweaty, and joyfully obnoxious.
From the first chord, “Bad Apple” screams for chaos. The pop-punk sensibility is undeniable, but instead of whining about suburbia, Filthy Filthy crank out an infectious chorus that practically begs you to lose your voice shouting along. It’s the kind of hook that sneaks into your head uninvited, then refuses to leave—like that one party guest who won’t stop air-drumming on your furniture.
This song isn’t about sophistication. It’s about punching the air like you’re suddenly in a stadium, even if you’re just in your bedroom wearing pajamas. It’s about turning up the volume high enough that your neighbors reconsider their life choices. It’s about that glorious moment when the chorus hits, and you forget everything except how good it feels to yell at the top of your lungs.
Filthy Filthy don’t deliver a polished apple—they serve up a sticky, spiked one, perfect for anyone who’d rather party than polish fruit. Take a bite. You won’t regret it.
Review by Thomas Imposter