Review Summary: Well spent.
I was first introduced to F*cked Up as a teenager whilst on something of a hardcore kick, after finally deciding that I’d had enough of the MySpace gutturals and blast-beats of the day. I came across a review for The Chemistry Of Common Life in an alternative magazine, which was full of praise and declared it one of the most sublime hardcore efforts in recent years. Based on the review, I listened to the album. I didn't enjoy it. In fact, it would probably be closer to the truth to say I hated it. I found it too base, too one-dimensional; lacking the hallmarks I associated with hardcore as a genre. The riffs seemed to be buried beneath a fuzzy wall of sound, there were no breakdowns to speak of, and the growling vocals were missing the gut-punch aggression that I sought from bands of the time. Looking back, it's interesting now to think how much my appreciation for F*cked Up as a band has grown. Whether through my developing musical taste, my blinkered elitism, or simply just by getting older, I've developed a partiality to their particular style. What once seemed quite dull and rudimentary now feels positively overflowing with expressive energy, emotionally sophisticated songwriting, and sincere, mature lyricism. It was always going to be a challenge to follow the ridiculously ambitious Year Of The Horse, itself a breathtaking display of high-impact bravura, but the band rise to the task admirably. F*cked Up respond to the summons by purifying their formula in a creative, impeccably crafted way, taking cues from virtually all past detours and constructing a release that is as much of a summation of the band’s own journey as it is a refreshing experience all its own. One Day to me represents the cumulation of F*cked Up's raw, powerful sound; a shot of searing adrenaline that is at once beautiful, brash, colourful and immediate.
Probably most comparable to the musical style of full-length release Glass Boys, One Day is a relatively lithe outing for the band (which isn't saying much considering the 40 minute runtime), yet it displays vast reserves of the same unyielding energy and feels just as rich as any of their more overstuffed efforts. The additional focus afforded is abundantly clear throughout, as it allows the sparkling precision of the songs to occupy distinctly contained sonic landscapes that seldom feel bloated or unnecessary. Founding guitarist and musical driving force Mike Haliechuk's approach to the writing process was to have every member write their respective parts within a 24 hour window. This technique has resulted in the release having a much tighter, more cohesive sound and musical structure, yet still remaining unmistakably a F*cked Up record, with all the euphoric vibrancy of tone left very much intact. Evidenced by the breakneck melody and satisfyingly swirly riffs of 'Brand New Her', or the pounding urgency of 'Broken Little Boys', there's an unmistakable sense of deftness that saturates the release from beginning to end. 'I Think I Might Be Weird', is a pugnacious rebuke of the colonisation of Canada, and utilises a chipper melody and strings reminiscent of nautical jaunts, or a motif from HMS. Pinafore. It has oodles of character and the composition of the track lends it a massive amount of authenticity to back up its inspired lyricism and vitriol. The ferocious call-to-arms of an opener in 'Found' and the bright, spirited strains of 'Lords Of Kensington' further emphasise this impassioned tone of earnestness, employing infectious rhythms but also embuing the thematic content with genuine substance and depth. The marriage of these two elements is careful and dilligently balanced, not just on these tracks, but consistently throughout the record.
F*cked Up have this ability of tapping into the punk ideal and holding the notion as a centrepiece that they then run rampant around. There's an elemental force to the music that contorts like wet clay, encompassing alternative, pop and even glam rock influences into a rich mixture, all held together by a quintessentially hardcore texture. Yet, the punk core is so finely distilled that all of these aesthetics do not dethrone or distract from its central importance within the sound. For example, the choral chants of 'Nothing's Immortal' are reverent and idiosyncratic, but feel compelling and warranted set against the garage-rock fuelled landscape, in addition to serving the tone of the song with startling poignancy. The dense layering of the band's signature aural aesthetic is here in full force, without being overshadowed by the studio overkill present on Dose Your Dreams; the production here is slick and crisp without souring the DIY feel of the music. The choppy riffs of the title track attest to this wonderfully, feeling distinctively muddy yet decipherable and full of emotional clarity. The harmonies on this song in particular are superb; sandpaper and satin weaving around each other like tightly coiled braids. Damian Abraham's vocal performance throughout the release is outstanding, retaining that strained, hoarse bark that carries the weight of the lyrical content with appropriate vehemence. Haliechuk takes over vocal duties on the transcendent 'Cicada', an eloquent and compelling composition lamenting a particular kind of heartbreak. The piece is sombre, yet loaded with evocative vocal melodies and head-nodding riffs.
Some of F*cked Up's previous albums have felt simultaneously held aloft yet weighed down by their scope, but that issue is nonexistent here, thanks to the relative brevity of the release for once finding common ground with the urgency of the songwriting. Every movement on One Day is a wonderland filled with creative asides, stirring melodies, and genuine musical integrity that is consistently surprising and evolving. The writing process utilised to produce this record has yielded results far beyond what could reasonably be expected under such time constraints, and this is a credit to the extremely talented musicians at the heart of the project, as well as to the longevity and timeless nature of their genre-bending style that they have pioneered for so long. The bitter, biting lyrical content is counterweighted by the life-affirming, breezy music that manages to be aggressive in tone yet dignified in execution. Once again retracing the roadmap of this boundary-pushing act along their ambitious musical pathway was a joyous diversion that I gladly undertook in preparation for this album's release, and it's truly impressive how they have experimented in a multitude of ways yet have always remained true to their core sound. One Day is a marvel; pure, dicey, contained, ridiculously entertaining and a picture-perfect snapshot of a band at the peak of their endeavours.
