Toronto’s beloved hardcore f-bombers Fucked Up indulge in production excess for The Chemistry of Common Life, their first for Matador. But like the well-reported antics of their riotous live shows, the studio embellishment only serves to expand their mythology, as the band still deliver where it counts. Blending the aggression of 2006’s Hidden World and the experimentation of last year’s expectation-skewering Year of the Pig EP, their latest album finds Fucked Up perfectly suited to sharing a label with popular acts like Cat Power while crafting anthems from iconic riffs and abusive vocals.
As if chronicling the band’s continued evolution away from straight-up hardcore, the album progressively slows down over the first few tracks to the brutal groove of “No Epiphany.” Peaking with layers of screeching noise, “Days of Last” sounds like it was recorded in the middle of a highway. Fucked Up even anticipate how their songs will translate into audience participation, with a new cache of sloganeering choruses (“Crooked Head,” “Son of the Father”). And “Black Albino Bones,” an ode to dope and fucking with an infectious chorus sung by Dallas Green, achieves the right combination of disdain, humour and hooks; it ought to easily cross over into the pop world’s collective iPod. Is there anything Fucked Up can’t do?