IN REVIEW: Fucked Up - "Glass Boys"

There are a lot of bands for whom the word "epic" is thrown around, and few of them have earned the adjective quite as much as Fucked Up. 2011's David Comes to Life wasn't just a supersized concept album with a sprawling narrative over four acts and orgies of sound, it was a grand statement, burning the proverbial rule book of hardcore and putting the music world to rights. It was brash and bold, to be sure, but it was also immensely melodic; under its gruff and gnarled exterior were heartfelt, well crafted songs, soothing the soul even as they spat and screamed. It wasn't the clear choice for Album of the Year at the time, but three years removed I don't regret my choice a bit because I've continued to go back to it and continued to find new reasons to love it. I haven't even mentioned the several bonus tracks cut from the album due to time constraints, nor the accompanying David's Town album that featured guest vocalists. All told, the complete David Comes to Life experience clocks in at around three hours; if that's not epic, I don't know what is.

In a move that some will celebrate while others castigate, Glass Boys doesn't pick up where David Comes to Life left off; rather than attempt to outdo themselves, Fucked Up have scaled it all back. Their fourth official album is a concise, ten-song blast without much of a connective narrative tissue, nor patience-testing song lengths such as are on display throughout their ongoing Zodiac series or, say, Swans' more adventurous endeavors. What we get instead is a quick (by this band's standards, at least) 42 minutes of majestic noise that never loses momentum. It's still huge sounding and captivating, but its condensed presentation makes it easier to digest.

Like with all previous Fucked Up records, your enjoyment of Glass Boys will depend chiefly on your tolerance for Damian Abraham's barbed wire shout-speak, and if you can look past the abrasive vocals you'll find an incredibly melodic record, guitars harmonizing even as they twist, crash and screech. The band's music has always seemed like an otherworldly, uplifting counterpart to the ugliness of the vocals, and that's even more apropos here; it's as majestic as they've ever sounded, and some of this band's past work has been majestic as fuck.

At times, Glass Boys seems like a victory lap; the celebratory tone of Sun Glass, the arena-sized shimmer and thud of Echo Boomer, the swirling AC/DC-meets-Replacements roar of The Art of Patrons (featuring a particularly inspired guest shot from Gord Downie) and the heavens-reaching, guitar-drenched money shot that is the title track (and closest cousin to DCTL on display here) all positively soar. That's not to take anything away from the other six tracks, as they all have merits of their own. Touch Stone and The Great Divide are the most intense moments, while previously unveiled tracks Paper the House and Led By Hand burst from the speakers with confidence and bombast, the latter getting some vocal assistance courtesy of Dinosaur Jr.'s J. Mascis. And the fiery groove of Warm Change and the slowly exploding DET are no slouches either. In fact, after a couple good spins of Glass Boys, I can see any one of the ten tracks being someone's favourite, and can't think of a good reason to argue with them.

Once the dust settles, Glass Boys isn't a return to roots nor a bold progression, but what it lacks in ingenuity it makes up for in execution. It's addition by subtraction, a band distilling what makes them special into a more concentrated dose. Is it their best album? That's too close to call right now, but it's certainly their most effective. Glass Boys delivers the same thrills in a fraction of the time and, rather than wear me down, it had me scrambling for repeat listens upon its conclusion. Bottom line: it's a near perfect, blissful riot of a record that's well worth throwing yourself into, again and again and again.

June 3, 2014 • Arts & Crafts

Highlights Echo Boomer • Sun Glass • The Art of Patrons

Year in Rock 2025

Alright, I've got some explaining to do. By now anyone who's visited this blog is well aware of how infrequently I've used this space in recent years; aside from the occasional fertile year of content, I really haven't posted all that often over the last five years or so. There are many reasons for this, which have already been outlined in previous apology posts; but, essentially, it boils down to my own laziness and the cold reality that blogs are, like Refused (again), fucking dead. So, I wouldn't hold my breath for a triumphant return to reviews, or even semi-regular posts, but: a) I feel like Year in Rock posts have always belonged here and, even though I've experimented with different methods of presentation recently and been satisfied, the "blink and you missed it" unveiling via Facebook stories this year was perhaps ultimately a disservice to the records I lauded. After all, cramming the list into short videos isn't too far off from ju...

Year in Rock 2011 Nominee: Sam Roberts Band

SAM ROBERTS BAND I Feel You From: Collider Released: May 10 Having already endured the breakout success ( Brother Down was Canada's it rock song of 2002), the tentative dabbling in the U.S. market, as is the rite of passage for all moderately successful Canuck artists (2003's debut We Were Born in a Flame was the best time to try; one of the best albums of the year, it made a small dent in the American mindset upon its release there a year later), the difficult, druggy third album (the aptly named 2005 disc Chemical City ), and the subdued creative step backward (2008's Love at the End of the World , aside from hit single Them Kids , was really kinda bland), it seems according to script that Sam Roberts would start settling in on his fourth album (and first with the band credited as equal contributors), Collider (you know, I think it was a bad idea to give me brackets). Well, as far as settling in goes, Roberts does and doesn't on Collider . W...

IN REVIEW: Rancid - "Trouble Maker"

As far as punk rock goes, it's hard to name a hotter hot streak than the trio of records Rancid cranked out between 1995 and 2000; the star making ...And Out Come the Wolves , the far-reaching Life Won't Wait and their balls-to-the-wall second self-titled album solidly positioned Rancid as leaders of the second generation of punk. It also preceded a period of slow progression, as Rancid would take eleven years to release their next three records. By the time ...Honor Is All We Know came in 2014, many fans (myself included) had to wonder whether or not this was the end of the road. Such concerns are handily dealt with on the closing track of the standard edition of their ninth record, the positively punishing This Is Not the End . Well, okay then, that's sorted. Now, what of this new record? What do we make of the use of their original logo on the cover, a logo that hasn't graced a Rancid record in 25 years? Is this a throwback to the band's heyday, a new begin...

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