Together Pangea

About Together Pangea

Together Pangea started in the San Fernando Valley around 2009, which makes sense when you listen to them. Three friends—William Keegan, Adrian Tellez, and Erik Jimenez—making the kind of garage punk that sounds like it was recorded in someone's bedroom because it probably was. They were teenagers who'd grown up on punk and indie rock, and their early stuff had that raw, unpolished energy that either hooks you immediately or doesn't.

Their first couple releases were scrappy and lo-fi in the best way. Night of the Living Dummy came out in 2011, and it's exactly what you'd want from a band still figuring things out but not overthinking it. The songs were short, fuzzy, and had this casual intensity that felt authentic. By 2013's Badillac, they were starting to refine things while keeping that same rattling energy. "Sick Shit" became one of those songs that people latched onto, probably because it captured something specific about being young and directionless without being precious about it.

The jump to The Phage in 2017 showed a band willing to mess with their formula. They signed with Nettwerk and worked with producer John Congleton, which gave everything more clarity and weight. The guitars got bigger, the songs got more ambitious, and tracks like "Dispassionate" proved they could do moody and melodic without losing the edge. Some longtime fans probably missed the basement sound, but it was a natural evolution for a band that had been at it for nearly a decade.

Bulls and Roosters came in 2019 and kept pushing in that direction—tighter production, more dynamic range, but still fundamentally the same band underneath. They'd become one of those reliable acts in the garage punk scene, the kind you'd catch at a festival and remember they're better live than you'd anticipated.

Like most bands, they hit pause during the pandemic years. They kept relatively quiet, which isn't surprising for a group that always seemed more interested in making music than maintaining a constant online presence. By 2023, they were back to playing shows, reminding people they're still around and still good at what they do.

Together Pangea never became huge, but that's not really the point with a band like this. They've built a solid catalog over fifteen years, evolved without abandoning what made them worth listening to in the first place, and maintained a fanbase that actually cares. They're the kind of band that matters more than their streaming numbers suggest—reliable, genuine, and still making the kind of guitar-driven rock that doesn't need a gimmick to justify itself. They're still based in LA, still playing shows, still doing the work.

Shows are reliably chaotic. Crowds lose it faster than the songs warrant. There's a genuine wrecking ball energy where the stage might collapse or someone might do something stupid, and the band seems unbothered either way. Vocalist Javi Ramirez commits fully to the absurdity without irony. It's sweaty and dumb in exactly the way their audience wants.

Known for Sick Shit, Gorilla, Sick Shit (Reprise), Deflowering, Sick Shit II

See Together Pangea Live