VA - Punk 45 Vol. 2: There Is No Such Thing As Society. Get A Job, Get A Car, Get A Bed, Get Drunk! Underground Punk and Post-Punk in the UK 1977-81

Boasting liners that, as with most Soul Jazz comps, thoroughly put the era under scrutiny into context (in this case including interviews with the indie distributors and label-runners on the front lines when Year Zero hit, along with quality shots of each featured 45's original album art), this CD/2LP fills out the UK side of the punk picture provided by the series' related coffee-table book.

"While the first album in this series, Punk 45: Kill The Hippies! Kill Yourself!, focused on underground punk in America, this album charts the rise of punk and post-punk in Britain in the years 1977-81.

This new Punk 45 album features a collection of seminal, classic, obscure and rare punk and post-punk singles from the likes of The Art Attacks, The Mekons, TV Personalities, Swell Maps, and many more, charting the rise of independent music and Do It Yourself culture that exploded in Britain in the wake of punk." - Sounds Of The Universe/Soul Jazz Records

NATIONAL WAKE - Walk In Africa 1979-81

An understandably politicized Joburg blend of punk, new wave, reggae and hard rock (check "It's All Right"'s surprisingly downright Rush-like ascending riff!), National Wake are a must-hear for any fans of The Clash, The Police and The English Beat, as well as such pre-punk acts as Detroit's Death and Zambia's WITCH and Amanaz (as especially heard on "Time And Place").

"The South Africa of the late 1970s was neither the right place nor time to launch a mixed-race punk band. Yet, following the student-inspired Soweto Uprising of 1976, it was also exactly the right conditions to foster a band like National Wake, one formed in an underground commune and one whose very name exists in protest at the divisive, racist apartheid regime. Never before collected together, Light In The Attic has now released National Wake’s full body of work as Walk In Africa 1979-81.

Featured heavily in the recent documentary Punk In Africa, National Wake played punk, reggae and tropical funk, equally at home in the city’s rock underground and the township nightclub circuit. Ivan Kadey started the band with two brothers, Gary and Punka Khoza. [...] Later joined by guitarist Steve Moni, the whole band grew up against a backdrop of township unrest, social upheaval and suburban tedium that characterized apartheid-era South Africa." - Light In The Attic

HACKAMORE BRICK - One Kiss Leads To Another

From the streets of Brooklyn came this strongly Velvet Underground-influenced group whose only album unfortunately sank without a trace upon its release in 1970. While recalling the Velvets in their more mellow moments, Hackamore Brick's sound and sensibility also forecast punk pioneers like Jonathan Richman and Television.

"Though Hackamore Brick hailed from the mean streets of New York (as depicted on that striking and hip cover), there’s a beguiling, youthful innocence behind the often-oblique lyrics (that alone differentiates the group from the Velvet Underground!). Darkness lurks around the edges of otherwise-mellow tracks like the album-opening "Reachin'."  [Chick] Newman’s elegiac melody and the ragged harmony vocals contribute to an atmosphere of paranoia...Haunting, spare and atmospheric arrangements color [Tommy] Moonlight’s "Got a Gal Named Wilma," Moonlight and Bob Roman's "Peace Has Come," and Newman's "And I Wonder."  The latter builds to an extended keyboard jam-freakout, and makes it one of the few tracks on One Kiss that seems of its time; others, like "Zip Gun Woman," sound straight out of the CBGB's scene of a few years later." - The Second Disc

THE CLEAN - Vehicle

If you've been following the shop through the years, you'll no doubt know we're huge fans of The Clean, so it's great to see a reissue of their debut album from 1990. True, much of this material has been available on the excellent career overview Anthology, but it's still worth hearing it in its original context. As a bonus, there are five live versions of classic singles from the early '80s.

"The songs on Vehicle hold their own. Instead of the rough and ready four-track recordings that marked their early singles and EPs, Vehicle sounds very much like a studio creation, though the fuller sound didn’t harm the performances. Part of the pleasure lies in hearing how each of the band members is so distinct, creating the type of collaboration where the individual parts’ strength meshes rather than trying to outstrip another. The singing from all three is a core part of The Clean's appeal, the back-and-forth between Scott’s affable but never cloying voice and the Kilgours' slightly gentler but no less engaging approach. Leads are almost always matched by harmonies, and the feeling throughout Vehicle is one of continuity." - Pitchfork

PETER JEFFERIES - The Last Great Challenge in a Dull World

A punky, piano-led solo debut placing proper emphasis on Jefferies' weathered baritone and world-weary yet outwardly-engaged lyrics, this is a crucial document of the '90s New Zealand cassette underground thankfully brought back to life by ever-discerning, primarily archival left-field label De Stijl.

"Last Great Challenge... is a claustrophobic, private-sounding collection that ranges from homegrown, tinny post-punk to melancholic piano ballads to fucked up tape manipulations to the sound of a man singing calmly (and resignedly) while he does the dishes." - Pitchfork

"Though no one’s gotten around to writing a book on it yet, The Last Great Challenge in a Dull World nonetheless stands as one of the singular singer-songwriter albums of all time, existing on a sparsely populated plane with Pink Moon, I Often Dream of Trains, Blues Run the Game, Our Mother the Mountain and not many others. In a sandy voice that soothes and slashes, Jefferies offers a compassionate, piercingly lucid view of the endeavor of life, all our pain and small glories rendered in tones both harrowing and tender. On piano, drums and percussion, he pounds out melodies that roar, sweep and lilt, accompanied on many songs by the serrated guitars of a variety of players." - De Stijl

SEAN NICHOLAS SAVAGE - Other Life / DIRTY BEACHES - Drifters/Love Is The Devil

As anyone who saw him play here during recent NXNE festivities can attest to, Sean Nicolas Savage is a magnetic performer, whose off-the-cuff, quasi-karaoke, romantically rebellious songbook (mainly documented via cassettes and downloads, until now) has influenced enough hometown peers to have inspired an entire covers collection. With its tales of heartbreak and renewal, the first half of Other Life is especially lyrically devastating.

Meanwhile, fellow Montrealer Alex Zhang Hungtai's sophomore full-length sees him retain his Alan Vega-influenced croon, while replacing the loops and samples of his debut Badlands with an array of live-played, distorted drum machines and synths that, while naturally indebted to Suicide, also inventively and soulfully nods to a wide variety of related dark/outsider music of 30+ years past, from coldwave and industrial post-punk à la Cabaret Voltaire to the 'electronic body music' of DAF. 

VA - Change The Beat: The Celluloid Records Story 1980-1987

As recounted in this promotional short video, it could be argued that Celluloid's unique cross-Atlantic aesthetic was born the moment that French impresario/BYG Actuel co-founder Jean Karakos chanced upon NYC bassist/producer/multi-scene Zelig figure Bill Laswell; Change The Beat is a long-overdue look at one of the few early-'80s labels able to successfully unite the then-burgeoning B-boy movement with both the U.S./Euro no/new waves as well as that era's African diaspora. 

"With a selection that jumped from early hip-hop to deconstructed European disco, and from downtown NYC experimental head-trips to early fusions of world music with funk, jazz and art-damaged punk, Celluloid was truly a harbinger of things to come.

Winding your way through so much unbridled creativity is like stumbling into an avant-garde toy box filled with outrageous oddities, many of them sprouting dangerous, sharp edges. Having bought every Celluloid record I found for decades, I thought I had a pretty good grasp on the label's catalogue, but there's an impressive amount of stuff here I've never heard or heard of.

Blessed by being in the right place(s) at the right time, and having the smarts to take advantage of the considerable opportunities that came their way, Celluloid Records sits comfortably in the file of independent labels that got it right from start to finish." - Blurt

ICEAGE - You're Nothing

Storming out of the gate with blown-out disco-beat barnburner "Ecstacy," You're Nothing is the sort of sophomore effort that will surely both gain Iceage plenty of new fans as well as easily appease those who've been waiting for a follow-up from these brooding Danes ever since promising 2011 debut New Brigade. 

"Yes, the angsty lyrics are occasionally comprehensible and the songs, which sometimes push past the three-minute mark, have slightly more breathing room, but the chilly, irritated scrape is just as potent. They may have found some success, but Iceage haven’t ditched the envelope-pushing teenage petulance that brought them there." - NOW Magazine

"Over its 12 tenaciously gritty tracks, You're Nothing reveals itself as an album that operates in contrasts. Amidst a sonic atmosphere of clenched-fist roughness, one can find stark beauty and honest emotional value in the lyrics of lead singer Elias Bender Rønnenfelt." - Exclaim!

"[Rønnenfelt's] presence is in part what makes Iceage so compelling. Fresh-faced, his thick voice always feels like a taunt. "Where are your morals?," he asks at one point, caught somewhere on the threshold between manhood and adolescence. It helps that he has an equally smart band behind him. The drum fills (the drumming here is something else, like an angry speed-driven typewriter) and tightly wired guitar lines alternate and duet, with a trebly discord ringing out across nearly all the tracks." - The Quietus

NAOMI PUNK - The Feeling

Previously little-known outside of their native Olympia/Seattle area, fans of such bands as WA's Gun Outfit and Talbot Tagora, LA's No Age and Abe Vigoda, Calgary's late/lamented Women, and to a certain extent SF's Ty Segall/Mikal Cronin/Oh Sees axis might have just found their new favourite band.

"Much of Naomi Punk's music is slow, with big riffs and well-paced, grand-wingspan style drumming. It is loud and not rendered in the highest fidelity, so much so that you may strain to pick out what they're singing...There's a busted, tweaky synth in there somewhere, a lot of cymbal crashing, and a sick rasp of vocals that sound out in rebellious triumph, but since it's not heavy in a traditional sense, we're forced to instead focus on these things. It feels...like a Pixies record at 16 RPM, or Times New Viking imitating the Melvins." - Other Music

"Naomi Punk rides through a variety of influences on The Feeling, from its state’s pride and joy of grunge to the haunting, No Wave-inspired, synthesizer-solo instrumental tracks, as well as slight psychedelic and punk tinges. The guitar’s distorted and heavily strummed power chords insert themselves sporadically yet carry the majority of the songs by conversing back and forth with heavy cymbal crashes. Hovering over the cacophonous instrumental battles are the wailing vocals. While they emit a hazy texture that numbs your body to relaxation, the vocals contain an energetic inflection as well, giving tracks like 'Burned Body' a much-needed kick." - CMJ

CONVERGE - All We Love We Leave Behind

As I began writing this review of Converge's typically phenomenal new LP (their eighth in a very consistent 20-plus-year career), I suddenly realized that I was starting it off with the exact same quote I used when discussing 2009's Axe To Fall on this site (you can read that here). Aside from being a little embarrassing and funny, it made me wonder what it was about the Boston group's abilities that made age so much more than a number.

For sure, hardcore has always been more a young person's game. There's a certain kinship one feels in their teens with screaming and playing as fast as possible. It's as natural as seeing nothing wrong with a bag of Doritos as supper. But as you gets older, even if you still feel the desire to continue raking your vocal chords over the hot coals of angst and to fly through measures of music like a cheetah, you've gotta get serious. You need to treat your throat right and learn to scream properly night after night. You need to be in shape, or at least athletic enough to pound through 168 bpm for one hour without passing out. But even more than the physical toll, let's just call a spade a spade: you've gotta find a way to own with dignity what can essentially amount to carrying on like a petulant kid as your career.

Because hardcore doesn't really check itself or take a breath. That's why it works—it's self-righteous, brash, and unyielding. To match the fresh, inspired, but naive 20-year-olds of the genre with nothing to lose, you need to get savvy and build variety, reflection, and poignancy into your music. So that it's not only feasible to step up on yet another stage twenty years later and freak the hell out; it's easy because you know you've done something with those decades to make your music the best of its kind.

That's exactly what Converge do, and All We Love We Leave Behind is just further proof of it. In terms of breathtaking displays of pure speed and dexterity, it's all there—the opening salvo flies by and songs like "Sparrow's Fall" show the incredible force they can cram into a minute and a half. And thanks to both their physical abilities and the engineering cunning of guitarist Kurt Ballou (who as the band's resident producer has rightly made a name for himself as one of the best brains behind a soundboard in hardcore and metal), there are few bands who punch harder on record.

But above all, Converge write music with an intelligence and lyrical vulnerability that means their songs retain immense value even after the initial concussion wears off. Bannon may yell his face off, but when he shifts his voice down into his more natural register (more a call than a scream), he remains one of hardcore's most compelling voices. In this way, he really delivers on hardcore's initial promise—as much as this music is about scaring the hell out of people, it's also about camaraderie.

There will certainly come a day when these four guys can't play like this anymore. But even when it comes, be sure they could still make some phenomenal music. Through tracks like this record's "Coral Blue" (as well as past slow burners "Black Heart Grim Rose," "Cruel Bloom" or "In Her Shadow"), Converge already take the time to shine a way forward for themselves. But when you're this capable of blowing away bands half your age, why would anyone be in a hurry to throw in the towel? Still a nearly unmatched band in their field...or any other, really.

METZ - S/T

Jesus, noise rock...is that you? You do something to your hair? Working out now? I mean, damn, you look amazing!

Sorry, where was I?

There was a time when every second band I listened to sounded something like local trio METZ. From Jawbox to Helmet to The Jesus Lizard to Hammerhead to Quicksand to June of 44 to Shallow ND to...

It was a seemingly neverending armada of young musicians seeking to bend the sounds of aggression pioneered by punk and metal into something new. Some were dizzyingly technical; others pushed their rage into oddly neat staccato spaces that marched with lock-step precision. But for me, the best records were those that utilized a nervous, feral simplicity. Records like Kittens' Bazooka and the Hustler, or Drive Like Jehu's Yank Crime worked because they managed to make the most chaos out of the least parts. Even at the latter album's most labyrinthine points—when each player's contribution twisted around its counterparts like a nest of (hot?) snakes—the pieces themselves were quite direct. It was the way that they danced with (and against) each other that set off a unhinged and brutal ballet of power as real and primal as a glob of glottal spit.

The thing is, aside from actual participants in those halcyon days (such as John Reis and Rick Froberg's various bands), that scene had sort of played itself out. (Or I just grew away from it, unable to be compelled back by what I was hearing.) So it's unexpected and thrilling how successfully METZ have delivered a half-hour worthy of mention in the same breath as some of my favourite records, albums whose worth endures far past any awkwardly-named underground rock movement. It's hectic, heady, and absolutely heavy, but at all times remains plainspoken and, well, relatable. You get it instantly. There's real magic in the way that these three guys push and pull at simple shapes to form such compelling energy. METZ is the bottled-up sound of frustration, and that emotion does not take kindly to being contained. So track after track—"Get Off," "Knife in the Water," "Wasted," "Negative Space" all brilliant examples of this trio's stunning way with aural bile—songs rip at their surroundings as the musicians struggle to control them. Often, their instruments do punch in vicious, kinetic unison, but they're always threatening to slip off into minute bursts of feedback, drumroll-laden instability. That tension is played on masterfully throughout the record, making their 29-minute debut worth playing over and over.

Of course, in addition to the bands already mentioned, one other comparison from a couple of decades ago hangs imposingly over this album: Sub Pop alums Nirvana. Whether these guys have the pop instincts in them to grow in such a manner is not really suggested here, and is also kind of inconsequential. In fact, at first I was kind of getting annoyed with how much Cobain and company had been brought up in relation to METZ. It felt unfair and too easy. But in the end, I can think of no greater compliment than to say that moments on this album are as exciting as what Nirvana conjured at their most antagonistic and howling. And seeing as those were often my favourite moments of that band anyway, I'd say METZ have got a home in my heart for a while to come.

So I guess what I'm saying is: noise rock, I'm totally free this weekend. Or whenever. Weeknights are wide open, too. So hawt...

REDD KROSS - Researching The Blues

For their first album in fifteen years, L.A.'s Redd Kross pick up where they left off: stomping out tough glitter-punk leavened by instantly memorable bubblegum melodies.

"The members of Redd Kross, of course, know that they’re a legacy band now; they’re well into middle age, after all. But that status hasn’t altered their sound one iota. They named the album—and its riotous first song—Resarching The Blues to make fun of the idea that every old-guy band has to go roots-rock, to tap into some hard-won wisdom. There’s no wisdom to be heard on the album, but there’s craft for days. Researching The Blues gets in and gets out, 10 songs in half an hour, no fat anywhere. They’ve got two speeds: Laser-precise Camaro-rock overdrive and sha-la-la jangle. And every song lands on one side of the divide or the other, more or less. But the amped-up rockers have moments of overwhelming melodic sweetness, and the starry-eyed jams never translate as ballads; they still have pogo tempos and slashing chorus guitars. This is power-pop where the power never, ever gets lost, and where fiery guitar solos are pure necessity." - Stereogum

"This isn’t your every-month, crappy reunion record. Yes, Redd Kross' latest release, Researching The Blues, is their first album in 15 years (and their first on Merge Records), and yes, the band has about three decades of history behind them. But after the super-lean album spins to a close, you’re left with the realization that Researching The Blues possesses something that fans could only dream about from a band that hasn’t released new material since 1997. " - Paste

EPIC SOUNDTRACKS - Wild Smile: An Anthology

Epic Soundtracks' albums went out of print years ago and I've been wishin' and hopin' some enterprising label would see right to get his overlooked material back into the world again. Thankfully, Easy Action sub-label Troubadour has stepped up with a top notch presentation of highlights from his career along with a bonus disc of live tracks and rarities for the faithful. His is a sad story but he will live forever in the minds of his fans who connect with his tales of heartbreak, struggle and sometimes hope. He sings from the depths of his soul.

"Simply put, it's an excellent selection of songs that well demonstrates his heart-on-sleeve pop. Deceptively simple confections like "Farmer's Daughter" (whose main character reappears in "Emily May [You Make Me Feel So Fine]"), "You Better Run" and "Wishing Well" reveal a student of pop music who can channel his inspirations (Brian Wilson, Alex Chilton, Carole King, the Monkees) into music that sounds most like himself. Intricate mini-symphonies like "Fallen Down" and "Big Apple Graveyard" indicate more ambition than Soundtracks is usually given credit for, with an attention to detail that belies the raw emotions on display. Ballads like "There's a Rumour," "Sweet Sixteen" and "Waiting for the Train" tend to strip down to little more than voice and piano (or guitar), giving the listener no barrier between Soundtracks and what he's feeling." Blurt

"Despite his avant-punk roots as half of Swell Maps, the late Epic Soundtracks was a pop tunesmith at heart, and a big heart it was. The first disc of this double set collects the best from his three solo albums, with clear shades of Bacharach and especially the Zombies. The second disc of rarities is highlighted by his Jonathan Richman-esque “I Wish I Had a Girlfriend” and covers of the Beatles’ “I’ll Be Back” and James & Bobby Purify’s “I’m Your Puppet”. His stripped-down, vulnerable delivery is entirely suited to the lyrics of both." - Sound And Vision

TRONICS - Love Backed By Force

Full of simply-strummed songs and aggressively apathetic vocals that prefigure mid-'80s acts like Beat Happening and The Vaselines, Ziro Baby and Gaby de Vivienne's 1981 LP's hand in the secret history of indie-rock is made clear with this reissue, stumbling and swaggering along with enough behind-the-beat bongo tapping to either drive you nuts or charm you senseless.

"With singing based more on style than skill, clever retoolings of classic rock and folk forms, witty lyrics and drums that sound like they're playing plastic buckets (but barely managing to keep time), this record stands as a precursor to entire categories of late-'80s/early-'90s indie rock." - A Personal Miscellanarium

"These songs sound like they were banged out in one take straight into the recorder, which is probably the truth. But there’s this brutal honesty and youthful exuberance that very few bands have ever been able to replicate throughout all of the Tronics recordings, and it’s never more noticeable and fully realized than on Love Backed By Force." - eMusic

MOE TUCKER - I Feel So Far Away: Anthology 1974-1998

Lovingly packaged and compiled by Sundazed, I Feel So Far Away is a must-listen for Velvet Underground fans—this set's opening tracks, taken from Tucker's debut solo LP Playin' Possum, are particularly brilliantly ramshackle.

"While her bandmates would go down many different roads with widely variant results, Tucker's sounds retained the ragged beauty and youthful sense of possibility that were at the heart of the VU, and rock & roll in general." - Allmusic

"Following her tenure with VU, Moe emerged as a solo artist, building a body of work that stretched over three decades. Ranging from home recordings to collaborations with members of Sonic Youth, Violent Femmes, Half Japanese and her former band, the songs cover a gamut of styles but all bear the unmistakable thumbprint of their creator. Released by various independent labels on LPs, EPs, singles and compact discs, collecting her catalog has been a daunting task. This compilation finally gathers those far-flung tracks in one place." - Sundazed

HUMAN SWITCHBOARD - Who's Landing In My Hangar? Anthology 1977-1984

If you threw Patti Smith, Tom Verlaine, and Question Mark & The Mysterians into a sonic blender, the odds are good you'd get Ohio's Human Switchboard, a forgotten yet great garage-y punk band. This overdue reissue combines their sole studio album with a few of their rough 'n' tough early singles.

"The greatest thing about Who’s Landing In My Hangar? Anthology 1977-1984 is, as it should be, the music. The album itself offers the greatest gems. Opener "(Say No To) Saturday’s Girl" suggests the sultry-sarcastic vocal and keys-driven sound of Blondie’s prime. The title track is perhaps the most characteristic cut, evoking the nervy funk of Talking Heads before launching into an organ-buoyed chorus that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Reigning Sound platter...Like New Jersey’s Feelies, at roughly the same time, the Ohio-bred Human Switchboard took the Velvet Underground’s template and made it something new, interesting, and far removed from the gritty urban setting that defined the Velvets and Lou Reed." - Paste

MARVELOUS DARLINGS - Single Life

For those who missed out on their numerous singles over the last few years (or simply aren't the obsessive 7" collector type), Marvelous Darlings have done us all a favour and collected sixteen A and B sides on one CD/LP!

"Best known for his time in Fucked Up and No Warning, bristling busybody Ben Cook has countless other projects on the go at all times. Since 2007, one of them has been the punky power pop group Marvelous Darlings. Whether you're a longtime Darlings fan or a newcomer, there's plenty to chew on with this comp." - Exclaim!

"Over 16 tracks (plus five demos), there’s not a single weak link–an impressive feat considering that the simplest-sounding, catchiest pop songs are often the most difficult to write. The tracks all teem with hummable hooks, and because they were all intended as singles, the energy level never drops." - NOW

VA - MGMT LateNightTales

The latest in LateNightTales' DJ mix series finds MGMT currating a mix of downbeat tracks expertly sequenced to be be the perfect soundtrack to your very own late night tale. Includes an exclusive cover of the Bauhaus song "All We Ever Wanted Was Everything" performed by MGMT.

"With choices from the some-of-these-people-may-be-on-something area of pop history, there’s the likes of The Chills, Television Personalities and Disco Inferno nestling alongside The Velvet Underground’s 'Ocean' and a cut from Felt’s full-on Cocteau Twins phase, Red Indians. Martin Rev and Suicide crop up with the menace-haemorrhaging 'Cheree' and slightly more upbeat 'Sparks', while Julian Cope’s 'Laughing Boy', from his own disowning-pop-era masterpiece Fried, is a welcome selection." - BBC Music

"The Late Night Tales albums usually consist of their fair share of older tracks but this is even more so the case here, with tracks from The Velvet Underground, Suicide, Julian Cope and the Durutti Column amongst others. The mixture of tracks is, however, pretty spectacular. The album opens on Disco Inferno's ghostly and lost sounding 'Can't See Through It' - a track by a band I had not heard before but that perfectly kicks off this floaty, folky mix." - Black Plastic

MGMT Late Night Tales Minimix by LateNightTales

JEFF THE BROTHERHOOD - We Are The Champions

"I've been thinking about your mom." The first line of JEFF the Brotherhood's new LP We Are The Champions pretty much sums up what you're going to get from this album: light-hearted, straight-ahead tunes from a couple of awkward young men. Crushing on your friend's mom is just one of many teenage situations Nashville brothers Jake and Jamin Orrall sing about on this album. There are also songs about having a crush on the girl of your dreams ("Cool Out"), drinking too much on the weekend ("Bummer"), wanting a space to call your own (so you can display your records, obviously, on "Mellow Out"), and many other common slacker-type problems. It's very much a continuation of their last record, 2009's Heavy Days, so if you liked that one you'll be happy with this one too. However, if you're new to the band or couldn't get into their last album, it's worth giving We Are The Champions a try. They've cut out some of the jamming and increased the poppiness tenfold, all without compromising their trademark sound. In fact, it's been brought up while spinning it at the shop (and in other reviews) that, both vocally and musically, some of these cuts could be lost Pinkerton-era Weezer B-sides (think "You Gave Your Love to Me Softly"). So, if you're part of the overwhelming majority that fell out of love with Weezer around the turn of the century, make sure to pick up JEFF the Brotherhood's We Are The Champions.

FUCKED UP - David Comes To Life

"1-2-3-4!" So goes the rallying cry of the punk rocker, just prior to his or her bandmates launching into their latest one-and-a-half minute, neck-snapping nugget of snot-flicking challenges. Blink and you'll miss it, or as the first CD compilation of early singles by Toronto's Fucked Up proclaimed: Epics in Minutes.

Of course, it's well documented that since that compilation, Fucked Up's recorded output has made a point of ignoring this template in favour of whatever other idea crossed their transom. Collaborations with folk singers and violinists; 18-minute singles; huge pop choruses sung by radio idols—it's all good. And if it angers the same fanbase that once championed them as our city's greatest hardcore hope, all the better. After all, in an era where the term "punk rock" has basically been demoted to Green Day and hair dye for most people, what's more punk than pissing off so-called real punks (and winning government-sponsored awards in the process)? Uh, nothing? Sure.

This has been the main angle behind most of Fucked Up's writing to date, and while I essentially disagree with none of it, I'd prefer to focus on a slightly different on take on their brand of music. For rather than seeing their obsession with toying with punk protocol as just another giant middle finger, I view it as a continuation of Toronto's musical group hug—one that started with Broken Social Scene, Three Gut Records, Wavelength, Blocks Recording Club, and many more about ten years ago. This may be easy for a cynic to mock, but as I'm not one, I see a great correlation between their approach and BSS's vigourous courting of unexpected artists on their albums; or the kitchen-sink experience of a typical night out at Wavelength; or the all-for-one grassroots gang of Blocks. Even further, both BSS's Kevin Drew and FU's Mike Haliechuk have worked hard to establish themselves as finders and promoters of local unsung talent, starting labels as well as managing and producing albums by unsung comrades.

In this respect, 2008's incredible Chemistry of Common Life played like their own You Forgot It In People: a breakthrough album that acknowledged not only the importance of a musical community at large, but the multiplicity of modern listening tastes. Like peanut butter and chocolate, we've long since discovered that different flavours often taste better together, and that part of the joy of listening to music is discovering a new blend for the first time—even if the end result turns out to be unpalatable.

Fucked Up—and the city of Toronto, in general—are far from inventors of this approach. But I think it is fair to say that in a scene as musically disparate as Toronto's, this is as close to an identity as we can claim. Sure, rivalries exist. But years of being the laughing stock of the English-speaking world's music scene meant that we learned to gain strength from each other. Now, David Comes To Life officially designates the band as the new standard bearers of Hogtown to the world. It's hooky (the "Dying on the inside" refrain of "The Other Shoe" is a particularly tenacious earworm), relentless in its length and momentum, full of head-turning guest spots (especially from the honeyed pipes of local folkie Jennifer Castle), and arrogantly confident. For every track beaten bloody by the ferocity of Damian Abraham's feral bark (and most of them are), they all stand tall with moments that directly recall the signatures of both '90s indie (the dizzy climax of "Remember My Name") and classic rock (the chorus of "Running On Nothing").

Then there is, of course, the fact that this record is not only a concept album, but a rock opera, firmly catapulting the band into conversations that involve one of rock's greatest ever groups, The Who. And to be honest, it's here that Fucked Up's reach slightly exceeds their grasp. Tommy is a lot more than just a bunch of songs that lyrically tell a connected story—it's also (most importantly) full of recurring musical motifs that contribute greatly to the overall arc of the entire album. Aside from a slow tremolo noise section that opens David and reappears here and there, the writing here cannot lay claim to such moments—at least not ones that resonate as immediately and deeply as the riff of "Pinball Wizard" or the "See Me, Feel Me" refrain. But hey, if we chastised every band for not being The Beatles, life would be awfully dull.

And so, David Comes To Life is a flawed album, but it's only so because it tries to do more in a single release than most bands attempt in a career. That naked ambition—as well as the contribution it makes to keeping Toronto a relevant and inspiring part of the global music scene—makes it a terrific achievement and one of the year's better albums thus far. A lot of people in this town—and many without knowing it or ever receiving praise—have worked long and hard to make a scene that could foster a band as composed and iconoclastic as Fucked Up. They honour that privilege by continuing to push the local benchmark even further.