Holy Fuck? God, Yes!
Photo: James Mejia
Holy Fuck, indeed.
At last night's Pull Your Pants Up! show at the Prospector, Toronto four-piece Holy Fuck (you read that right) commandeered the venue's tight, cozy stage—with crucial Korg/melodica contributions from Mars Volta keyboardist Ikey Owens—and left scorch marks on my memory banks that will take a while to remove.
With a lineup consisting of drums, bass, and a battery of electronic gear you rarely see on a stage in the 21st century, Holy Fuck create con gusto raw, rugged funk and dub that slashes with precision in vivid analog hues and bleeds among genre boundaries with rambunctious energy. Sometimes these crafty Canucks sound like a motorik rock band buzzing and chugging on a "Sister Ray"-ish theme, other times they morph into a kind of visceral techno brut that could fry laptop circuitry. I predict big things for Holy Fuck, FCC-baiting moniker and all. Catch their sacred thrust if they're in your area.
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