Gary's Fucked Up Review

Folks, I’m gonna be straight with you – I don’t get it.

I’ve listened to this album a few times; I’ve tried to find a level of appreciation – tried to dig a little deeper to find something I liked. But frankly it’s just not there.

Fucked Up is hardcore punk outfit with a decidedly un-punk methodology. Where all the punk I grew up with was trimmed down, short bursts of rage usually from no more than 3 or 4 players – Fucked Up is 6 people strong and all about the 6 and 7 minute musical opus. This is all contrary to my notion of punk-rock, but frankly I’m a crotchety old man with an early bedtime and the loudest thing I listen to is Queens of the Stoneage. Generally speaking I’m no authority on metal or hardcore.

And that’s sort of what’s vexing me about this. I have no barometer to measure this music against others of its kind. I have zero familiarity with the genre and so can’t tell if Fucked Up is good, bad or other. Their nomination for this prize should indicate that they’re a worthy act and not the same rage-rock I’ve heard emanating out of every church basement and rec centre in the suburbs. Also the appearance of organs, flutes and lush vocal harmonies should at least indicate they’re not you’re average punk band.

What I can comment on is the production, which in my opinion is bad…bordering on terrible. Someone robbed the album of any nuance by ensuring that every instrument and vocal track was mixed to the same level - thus producing a muddy mixture of noise and static and effectively killing a lot of the dynamics in the album.

I’ve heard more than once that Fucked Up is a really great live act, and I’m assuming their enthusiasm is far better represented in public and so I’ll defer to their legend as a band you must see to truly appreciate.

I went into this assuming I wouldn’t love every album presented to me, and out of the 12 there was bound to be more than one. But I think it’s worth saying that I didn’t dislike this album on its merits, or even dislike it at all for that matter. It just didn’t move me, and that’s no fault of Fucked Up. That lies squarely with me and my f’d up brain.