2024/09/17

FUCKED UP Another Day (Fucked Up, 2024)

    One of the lessons you’ll learn about FUCKED UP if you read enough about them is that they were a reaction to the DIY music scene of the 1990s. They were not reactionary, mind you. Mike has said that punk was about the rebirth of the song and that is why bands from the era made two-song singles that played at 45 RPM. Those bands were taking music back to the immediacy of an a-side and a b-side from the album-length ideas of many a 1970s rock band. In the same way, FUCKED UP was going to reclaim the small vinyl format from fastcore / powerviolence / thrash bands that squeezed every possible second out of a 7" record. No, FUCKED UP would give you your money’s worth by making tunes. Jams. Cuts. Tracks. Bops. Songs you’d play over and over and over and over and over and over and over again, if you’d believe the “Litany” insert.

    So they did just that for about three years and it was glorious. Confused reviewers felt cheated by getting only two songs on a 7", yet those songs were miles beyond almost any band from that era in terms of compositional complexity and, counterintuitively, direct impact. Their first 12" release (aside from a one-sided live record) was a statement—a two-tracked a-side that played either the first or the second half of the song, depending on where you dropped the needle. The b-side was a longer song than they’d attempted to that point (“Fate of Fates”) but it did not suffer in the least. (It’s hard for me to believe it’s been nearly 20 years since I bought a copy of “Looking for Gold” at their show in Chicago.) The point was that they were signaling a readiness for a longer collection of songs, and even longer individual songs, to fill a full-length record. That would come about a year later and then somewhat regularly every two years after that.

    We’re now at the point in their career where they have made their second iteration on the everyone-does-their-parts-in-24-hours-but-not-all-at-once-or-in-the-same-place idea. The timing of the first iteration’s release (early 2023) suggested maybe that idea was borne of necessity during COVID’s enforced lockdown, but the recording dates reveal the opposite—it was conceptualized, if not mostly executed, before the pandemic hit. So now they’ve gone and done it again, with a slightly tighter timeframe, though not as tight as “Who’s Got the Time and a Half?” reviewed previously. The next iteration probably involves mimicking WARSAW PAKT’s “Needle Time” and recording live in the studio, direct-to-disc, and having the physical copies in the stores the next day. THELMA HOUSTON & PRESSURE COOKER used this approach to recording with “I’ve Got the Music in Me” as well. One take, no restraint. The release of “Windsor” as a live album recently doesn’t count because, it’s, well, a live gig recording. If you missed it, that means you’ll have to wait a while to hear “Disabuse,” if you ever get to hear it. What a monster of a song!

    I bring up all this history with the band and the nature of the recording of these three most recent album-length releases because these songs represent a return to the idea of the power of the hardcore punk sounds that first brought the band to make music together. So yes, the collection of songs coheres as an album. It does not feel like a singles collection, which they’ve done numerous times, or one of the sprawling Zodiac 12" releases either. It lands somewhere between the power of the early singles and the more contemplative and moody spaces they’ve explored on records such as “Dose Your Dreams,” “Year of the Horse,” and, yeah, even “Looking for Gold.” In other words, it’s worth your time.

    Both “Another Day” and “One Day” shove immediacy in your face from the first songs. A friend of mine pointed out that “One Day” does not begin with a song featuring a long instrumental build-up à la “Crusades,” “Son the Father,” “Let Her Rest,” “Echo Boomer,” or “None of Your Business Man.” The same is true of “Another Day” and its opener, “Face.” The riff repeats maybe twice and then Damian barrels in relentlessly within seconds. Instead of the feeling that these songs have been working their way through the practice space for months and that searching, sifting process resulted in pristinely hewed tracks, you get the feeling that these tracks were borne of a simple idea, a riff, a lead, a cool part, and built up from there incrementally. It’s the difference between a band really finding and riding a groove and feeling that flow and just punching ideas together in ProTools until the whole is more than the sum of its parts. That is what is happening here, make no mistake. The magic of studio construction, part by part, makes this record possible across time and place. When it results in “Stimming” and “Tell Yourself You Will,” I couldn’t care less how they get there. I mean, “I’m clenching my arms around a guitar / make music instead of a hole the wall” is one of the realest lines I’ve heard Mike write. “Tell Yourself You Will” has shades of WALLS AROUND US if only in its lyrical bent. It’s like when BREAKDOWN did “You Gotta Fight” just to show you they could be positive, too.

    With a one-two-three combo like that, you’d think maybe the album is front-loaded and not paced well, but you’d be wrong. The pro-pot anthem of the title track has me singing along even if I’ll never indulge. The synthy start to “Paternal Instinct” brings in the other elements of “Won’t Get Fooled Again” that “Police” did on its main riff. (Yes, I know Mike wrote “Police” while vibing on the first STROKES album, but the connection to The WHO is unmistakable.) After “Divining Gods” tears open the b-side, the power slips a little for a song or two, but Mike’s turn at the vocals on “Follow Fine Feeling” begins to set things right. It’s not as instantly accessible as “Cicada” from “One Day,” but the chorus still works. I’m still trying to come to terms with “House Lights.” There are some truly low notes on this track and some of Damian’s strongest attempts at clean-ish signing that I can recall, but the song itself seems triumphant and there is a chiming guitar lead throughout. It works, but I don’t know why. If “Face” doesn’t have the build-up intro you expect, then at least “House Lights” clearly signals the end.

    There are moments throughout the record that recall the feeling I got from AVAIL or HOT WATER MUSIC when I was a teenager. Those same heartfelt ‘90s DIY sounds aren’t present here at all, but the vibe is. Pat West once called AVAIL “the Michael Jordan of punk” in an issue of Change zine because they did everything right musically and politically and everyone loved them for that. Even if FUCKED UP doesn’t sound like AVAIL at all, the catholic vision of punk presented here is as easily grasped as Jordan’s elite status. Even better, it’s likely to welcome in even more scruffy or clean-cut or confused kids looking for something beyond the norm, and that barrier-lowering, welcoming stance is as powerful as anything the band has done before. 

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