The Canadian Hardcore legends return with a furious and frenzied show!
Personally, I’ll forever be grateful to Canadian hardcore legends (and yes, they’ve earned that title) Fucked Up for the time I saw them tear London’s Luminaire (RIP) apart on New Year’s Eve 2006. Folks, it was amazing. The Luminaire was clearly used to hosting more, shall we say, sedate acts; it soon become clear they were somewhat unprepared for a hardcore crowd. The band played a ferocious, life-affirming set, whilst the venue’s three security guards played an (ultimately losing) game of cat-and-mouse with the countless stagedivers. Greatest. NYE. Ever.
I didn’t think they’d last, though. How could they, with sets this intense and such a punishing tour schedule? Well, fast forward to 2024, and here we are at London’s Oslo; with the increasingly packed venue proof enough that this band still matter, eight albums in. I’m rarely this happy to eat my own words.

Given their roots in various London hardcore/punk bands, we’re surprised to discover that The Tubs’ jangly indie-pop sound is more reminiscent of The Cure or The Smiths (albeit with a touch of post-punk grit) than their more abrasive previous ventures.
Those tunes, though. The term ‘catchy’ doesn’t even begin to do justice to the likes of ‘Wretched Lie’ and ‘Illusion Pt. II’, all delivered with the ease (and good-natured patter) you’d expect of a band who know they’re among friends and kindred spirits tonight. Check out new single ‘Freak Mode’ – you’ll wanna dance, just as we did.
Unorthodox. That’s perhaps the best word to describe Fucked Up, and what they do. Generally, hardcore bands don’t spend an hour-plus onstage, but Fucked Up’s songs need time to build and twist themselves into all manner of shapes – and that’s just fine by us. As the band rip into ‘Stimming’ (from this year’s ’Another Day’ album), it’s clear that they’ve lost none of their power over the years, with frontman Damian Abraham the furious bundle of energy that he’s always been.
Whether leading his band through a full-throttle ‘Son The Father’ or delivering an impassioned speech on trans rights, it’s clear that he still believes wholeheartedly in what Fucked Up do, and his enthusiasm isn’t half infectious.
There are no weak links in their set, but an early highlight comes in the form of a genuinely anthemic ‘Queen Of Hearts’, with Abraham and bassist Sandy Miranda trading vocals on what is arguably hardcore at its most romantic (rare, no?).
Elsewhere, the street-punk stomp of ‘David Comes To Life’ still rages as hard as it did in the early days, and ‘Living In A Simulation’ comes across as a kind of turbocharged folk song; not the kind of thing that any old hardcore band could pull off, but the frenzied reaction of the pit says it all.

A hypnotically groovy finale of ‘Dose Your Dreams’ gradually draws to a close with each band member taking turns to leave the stage, until only drummer Jonah Falco is left. The cheeky bastard plays what sounds rather like a drum solo (oh, the horror!) before he departs, but Fucked Up are not done with us yet, returning to rattle our teeth one more time with the anti-cop blast of ‘Police’.
Nearly two decades on from that glorious NYE performance, Fucked Up have yet to, um, fuck up in our eyes, and suffice to say that with shows of this calibre, we’re in it for the long haul as much as they are. Don’t be strangers, folks.

Main Photo Credit / All Photos: ALEX GOOSE
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I spend my days teaching English to foreign students, and my evenings attending as many gigs as possible. Raised mainly on a diet of 90s third-wave punk, my tastes have grown to include just about anything from trad ska to thrash metal. The Ramones are my musical gods.