Lead vocalist Pink Eyes plays no small part in perpetuating the analogous relationship between Fucked Up's name and their increasingly infamous reputation. However, the band is not all attitude and gimmickry. Chemistry... and its balance between fury and grace is in no way insincere, overly calculated or ironic; it finds the band members feeding off of each other in a wholly organic and natural way.
As evidenced from the flute solo that starts the album, all the way to the similarly lilting, barely-there outro of the final track, Fucked Up has managed to strike a meditative chord. Fortunately, this slightly more refined method of madness doesn't so much replace the core sound that has given the band its unique identity, as much as it adds another level to it.
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