Fucked Up at Wax Trax Records
Fucked Up at Wax Trax Records
Fucked Up is a band whose reputation precedes it. Like, for about a mile ahead. You name it, and the Canadian act has probably dealt with it: glass bottles to the head, the televised demolition of MTV sets, lawsuits against both Rolling Stone and Camel cigarettes, and on and on. Being known for fucking things up, however, can be both a boon and a burden; the band's in-store performance last Wednesday at Wax Trax Records (prior to its Larimer Lounge show that night) seemed to be a mix of both. Sure, the hardcore heathens and their fans packed the tiny retail space like sardines—but how much mayhem could you really expect at four in the afternoon? Not too much. Which, for all the hype that surrounds Fucked Up, can be bit disappointing. Again, this is an outfit that NME quoted on its cover as saying, “Our shows are orgies of destruction.” To be fair, though, a subdued Fucked Up is still pretty decent live, and flaunts more heart and no-bullshit, ‘80s-style hardcore than the even more experienced bands of its ilk. Plus you've got to appreciate a group that, for the sheer DIY principle of it, will play for free at a record store just so its underage fans won’t feel so slighted about missing out on the 21+ bar gig. The best part of the 30-minute afternoon set? A sweaty, out-of-breath Fucked Up covering Nirvana’s “Breed” as a closer—despite having never played that song ever before. Guess that's something for Denver to claim as a Fucked Up first.
