Truly great bands will make you eat your words and you’ll smile with every bite. They’ll challenge your fundamental musical beliefs. Fucked Up is one of those bands. Last week, if you would have told me that I’d be defending a band with a nine and half minute song, I’d of said, “Fuck you and all the Asia records ever made.” But, somehow, Fucked Up has been able to take that hallowed two-minutes-and-out energy, and blow it apart. It’s like whomever first discovered America: it got expanded and exploited way beyond anyone’s wildest expectations. Grand Canyon in scope, Hidden World spans seventy-something minutes, sweeping and filling every section with an awe that gets infinitely larger. I got this same feeling—nowhere near the sound—from Turbonegro’s Apocalypse Dudes and Dillinger Four’s Midwestern Songs of the Americas. All these musical notes lying on the ground, seemingly scattered and broken up by subgenre, pigeonholed by the lazy hacking of sounds, trampled by careless or not-as-talented-as-they-thought musicians? These notes, they all belong together. They all fit. Somehow. And for—for all intents and purposes to the world at large—Fucked Up is “just” a hardcore band. Good lord, what ambition. There’s about ninety-nine levels to this record and I’m gonna keep listening deeper and deeper.
–todd (Jade Tree)