Fucked Up

The Fleece, Bristol | May 26th

While many of Bristol’s music lovers are vibing off Chic’s feel-good disco classics in the Castle Park sun, just around the corner The Fleece is packed with those after more unsavoury Bank Holiday celebrations, i.e, jumping into each other while a sweaty, shirtless and bearded guy screams on stage like a gravel chomping nutter.

But it’s not like this gig is just an aggro brofest. Since being exiled from hardcore credibility by punk purists years ago, Fucked Up’s sound has swollen into an intense, beautiful frenzy of melody and distortion that culminated in their epic 2011 concept record David Comes To Life. There’s a mixed crowd tonight, as kids in The Bronx t-shirts are obligated to share the same space as Grizzly Bear fans, and admittedly, stage divers only have a small portion of the crowd who’re rowdy enough to catch them.

But it’s no secret that Fucked Up are one of the most euphorically unhinged live bands on the planet, and it can be just as much of a buzz to watch the spectacle as to charge headfirst into it. With the band’s tight wall of guitarists behind him, frontman Damian ‘Pink Eyes’ Abraham wanders amongst the audience during punk opera stomper The Other Shoe, climbs speaker stacks and rants to the crowd while prowling across the venue’s bar. When Fucked Up close the set with Son The Father, the opener of their near-perfect 2009 album The Chemistry of Common Life, the song’s crescendo explodes into the phased out, shoegazey fuzz storm that never quite took off on the record, and our heads are knocked into a vivid state of bliss.

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Words: David Reed