Fucked Up, David Comes to Life
Having a centered, lyrical band from Canada claim the name Fucked Up is just perfect. It’s like hearing a dirty joke told by your grandmother. The expectations are different. The whole experience is fresh. I hear the title “David Comes to Life” and i don’t think of some Frankenstein fantasy, I think Michelangelo.
Even when Fucked Up rip it up, they pace themselves carefully and enunciate every word. Their growling anger seems more like indignation than an incitement to violence. There’s always something in a Fucked Up song to balance your mood—an ethereal female voice, a crisp drumbeat, creative chord changes. The band is like all those New Wave bands who got umped in with punk in the early ’80s but weren’t. This is composed, controlled stuff, a pleasure to listen to. A rose by any other name. When they coin a new genre for this stuff, “Fucked Up” won’t be the phrase that springs to mind. “Up” may be enough.