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http://assets-s3.rollingstone.com/assets/images/album_review/004ad4ef13081199ff8373824b053054715ff92b.jpg David Comes to Life

Fucked Up

David Comes to Life

Matador
Rolling Stone: star rating
Community: star rating
5 3.5 0
10
June 7, 2011

This Toronto punk band love a good gimmick, from the 12-hour-show they played in 2008, to their 300-pound singer Pink Eyes' love of nude stage-diving. But Fucked Up's real appeal is simple: guitars, three of 'em, though it can seem like thirty. Their fourth disc is an "opera" about a factory yob in 1970s England transformed by his girlfriend's death. Pink's infamous barf-yowl vocal style renders David an opera without much libretto. Still, they still sustain eighty minutes of rousing noise-swirl powerage, like Hüsker Dü's Zen Arcade re-imagined by anarchist Yetis. "Realizin' life's a waste," the hero muses, then FU's brutal grandeur turns pain into power.

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