The band Fucked Up are. No one can live the punk rock dream anymore in 2010, right? Whatever. This odds and sods two-disc compilation details the swath that this group has cut across North America, sweeping south out of Canada and wreaking havoc in the form of raucous, sweaty live shows.
Fucked Up sound like heavy rock and roll. Buzzsaw guitar hooks whir like electric razors, drumbeats compel you to jump about, and their size-of-a-small-bear frontman Pink Eyes’ winsome RRRARRRR-GARRRRGH rides gleefully atop the mix like a dolphin frolicking in a ship’s wake.
With b-side cuts, import singles, kinda sorta cast-off cover tunes, Couple Tracks shows the breadth of how far Fucked Up have gone and how far they’re willing to go.
Considering how little mind (supposedly/famously) the band pay to how they’re received, it’s kind of fun how much attention they pay to the lyrics. That is, to supposedly mean nothing. Whether this tale is true or not doesn’t matter one whit; the resultant doggerel that pours from Pink Eyes’ gob is nothin’ if not anthemic.
“Topics” include pedophilia, the Spanish Civil War, and tangental footy.
It’s the best sort of rocknroll, the kind that speaks to the still-young part of you. Walking with their sound in your ear, it makes you bob your head and walk faster. It makes you wanna go, it makes you wanna do, it makes you wanna make.
These songs are meant to be heard live in a small room with a too-small stage and Pink Eyes leering his huge frame over/into the shouting-the-lyrics-along audience. Rock and roll reminds us that it’s good to be alive.
Answer: The punk rock dream will always live as long as there is a kid and a guitar. This set of milemarkers from Fucked Up is proof that there will always be boundaries to push. They make “whatever” sound bracing, and even inspirational. The lesson is to make your own dream. Thanks, Fucked Up.
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