Fucked Up: The Chemistry Of Common Life

Quick: Name one hardcore punk album from the past 10

years—hell, make that ever—that opens with a lilting flute solo followed by a

chorus of electric guitars so dense, pealing, and overtone-rich, they could

make minimalist-rock architect Rhys Chatham's neck hair stand on end. That's

just the first of many moments on Fucked Up's second full-length where the

Canadian band pushes hardcore beyond traditionally accepted limits of

artfulness. The rest of The Chemistry Of Common Life heads even further into left field,

often with staggering results: Neu!-esque motorik grooves, philosophically dense

lyrics about the birth/death cycle, up to 70 simultaneous guitar tracks, and

waves of Eastern percussion and melody, all powering 11 hugely textured songs

that still hit as hard as a 90-second Negative Approach jam. While it's offset

on a few songs by "clean" female vocals, Damian Abraham's glass-gargling roar

remains the primary source of Fucked Up's visceral energy. From this point on,

it'll be more exciting to see how much farther beyond gut-level the band is willing

to go.