Holy Fuck

A A A Comments By Rick Mason Wednesday, May 27 2009

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These are Canadians (for fuck's sake!) who spout expletives (at least the nominative one) and perform wild-ass, improvised electronica over driving rock rhythms. Toronto's Holy Fuck's exuberant, noisy, all-instrumental assault sounds like the shit's hit the fan and is doing the psychedelic shimmy in some space-odyssey dance club. Chief Fuckers Graham Walsh and Brian Borcherdt concentrate on keyboards. Abetted by a revolving crew of drummers and bassists, they take an organic approach to techno wizardry, eschewing the usual programming, loops, and samples in favor of low-tech stuff salvaged from the electronic scrap heap but wielded with particular savvy and the derring-do of off-the-cuff experimenters. Holy Fuck's last album, 2007's LP, is 37 sparkling minutes of assertive, slippery, shape-shifting grooves amid layers of turbulent pulses, bloops, whooshes, and bleeping mind warps. With Crocodiles and Haunted House. 18+.
Sun., May 31, 8 p.m., 2009

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