The Chemistry of Common Life, F*cked Up
As musical genres go, the aesthetic guidelines for hardcore are about as tight as a nun's cooter. Not much deviation or cross-breeding here...
So what a weird delight it is, hearing a lone waifish flute meandering before the raucous hardcore assault of Toronto's F*cked Up begins. This is a band with roots in the fast/loud/Cookie-Monster-vocals blueprint of hardcore, roots that don't keep them from crossing over into epic-guitar-work, shoe-gaze-effects, even... bongos? Then there's the quasi-operatic female vocals? Jesus!
Hardcore enthusiasts would probably dub this 'light', and call me a pussy for liking it. They'd be right. But what's great about THE CHEMISTRY OF COMMON LIFE - with all its invigorating energy, upbeat melodies, and spacey mellow bits - is that it invites all us indie rock brats along for the ride. And you know what? It's a blast.
Release: Album
To Cure: An empty dancefloor
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