Glass Boys
Fucked Up's new album is a relatively compact, dense piece of metacriticism taking an unsparing look at the genre of its creators and its social mores. It's a very personal work and, more crucially, one that doesn’t preach or provide answers.
It’s impossible to pinpoint the second hardcore punk became ingrained in indie culture, but if there is a singular band to credit with bringing the style into vogue, it’s Toronto’s Fucked Up. With several trappings of hardcore’s sub-genres—the mysterious, Youth Attack!-styled covers, the vast storytelling ability, and…
Perhaps that great crossover will now never happen, but Pinkeyes and co. have made a refreshing, bold record here, that leaps the barriers of genre with ease and satisfies throughout.
From their sprawling 75 minute debut to 2011's double LP David Comes to Life, Fucked Up have always presented themselves as an atypical punk band despite their expletive-dropping name
While Fucked Up may be referred to most often as a punk band, even a hardcore punk band, each of their last few albums poked a few holes in that envelope. Sure, Damian Abraham (Pink Eyes) provides the definition of in-the-red punk vocals on each and every
Album review: Fucked Up - Glass Boys. "A gloriously savage return from the Toronto punks…"
The formerly hardcore Canadians are held back by their charismatic but limited frontman on their fourth studio album, writes <strong>Michael Hann</strong>