Holy Fuck

Sure, the name sounds like it could be a teenage basement punk band, juvenile shorthand for "Hey, look at me!," but the sound that this Canadian quartet coax out of a dizzying range of organic, electronic, and makeshift instruments would probably cause you to sit up and take notice even if the group wasn't called Holy Fuck. That sound writhes and pulses like techno while it kisses rock's noisy side, but by not relying on computers to deliver the beats or the static, the band pass on genre structures in favor of a groove-centric flow that highlights experimentation. It's untamed, at times threatening to careen off the rails and into some dark sonic jungle as the drums churn and the synths squelch, but it sounds more vital and of-the-moment than what the vast majority of other bands touring this summer are playing. Maybe the name Holy Fuck doesn't function as a cheap attention-grabber—just a way to convey your level of surprise. With Nice Nice and Jonathan Ackerman. (Photo by Dave Park)
Thu., June 3, 8 p.m., 2010

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