#also i am vaguely alluding to our previous brief things

[iobartach]

@stolencrownsofplenty asked; "Hey... hey! You're dozing off, again."

for muses who don’t understand the meaning of the phrase ’ take a break ’ 

Head lifts with a start, fast enough that his hidden eyes blink rapidly, adjusting to what appeared to be... night-time? When did that roll into effect, a predictable turn in the day's cycle that contrasted with his latest memory. Suddenly unsure as to the accuracy of that same recollection, with a slow, gradual motion, the masked Spider explores the space around him with his arms outstretched, finding nothing but air until, behind him-- a wall? And beneath him-- a wooden stool?

"Did you..." Mouth moved to form a question, but stopped before it could turn instead into an accusation, aimed at, by all accounts, a stranger with his best interests at heart. "We've met before, haven't we?" Glancing their way, although under review, a memory stored away in the back of his skull seemed to suggest as much, a thought that brought with it the reasoning that there existed far worse places to be caught sleeping on the job. Which reminded him...

"Sorry about this. I haven't..." A heave of chest inhales a gulp of air, lethargy nipping away at his stamina like a parasite, causing every gesture to require double the amount of energy to pull off. "Slept in a couple of days."

[troutfishinginmusic]

An album guide to Fuck

Fuck started with a limitation. If you can get past the giggly name, there’s a lot to take in. Off-kilter and slightly unsettling, Fuck is a band that falls between transgressive and heartwarming. In its brief moment of prominence in the Matador stable, the band was seen by critics as a quirky cousin to Pavement. This is selling the band short. A trip through the band’s discography shows one of the American underground’s most unheralded acts. As I go through all of Fuck’s albums I feel like I’m missing out on some kind of big in-joke. But, since there’s so little about the band out there, I wanted to try sum up its discography anyway. All these albums are pretty hard to find, luckily they’re all on Spotify.

Pretty…Slow (1996)

It’s amazing how fully formed Fuck sounds on its debut. The production is a bit shabby, but most of the songs still hold the same vaguely creepy aurora. Opener “Wrongy Wrong” doesn’t say much explicitly, but creates an atmosphere of unease that’s unique to the band. While the louder songs are performed competently, the slower songs (like “I Am Your King,” “From Heaven” and closer “Shotgun (H) Ours”) are where Fuck really shines. As the band went on, the noisier moments would be reined in a bit. Depending on your preference, this might be a downside. Pretty…Slow  is a strong debut from a band that knew exactly what it wanted to be from the start.

Baby Loves a Funny Bunny (1996)

Listening to this makes you realize what Matador saw in the band. Things sound a bit more focused, while retaining the same strangeness of the previous album. “Love Me 2” and “Tired” are great examples noisy lo-fi guitar rock. The midsection of the album shows the band improving on affecting folk/country songs about misfits even further. “Part of Me” might be one of Fuck’s best songs, showcasing its talent for heart-breaking slow-burners. The back half of the album is more mixed. “Rococo” is a relatively straightforward rock song (in sound at least), while “Like You” sounds like a Nirvana outtake. “Loosened Mind” is a quirky song that employs a lot of atypical instruments (triangles?) to create something more detailed and psychedelic than usual. “Crush a Butterfly,” another great slow song, is followed by “Whimper and Cry.” What might set off red flags at first blush is actually, as far as I can tell, a song about S&M in a surprisingly sincere way. Other aspects of the album have aged worse (example: The usage of the word “retard” on one song). Baby Loves a Funny Bunny is strange album, but it ultimately made good on the promise of the band’s debut.

Pardon My French (1997)

Mass appeal? Filled with off-center bummer country, Pardon My French stands as a record that could’ve brought the band a larger audience. Strung together like overhearing a bunch of strange inside jokes that you want to understand. The songs are short and work best when taken as part of a whole. Some (like “Bestest Friend,” “Tether” and “For Lori”) could’ve found their way to alternative radio. Aspects of Pardon My French are just as affecting as more “ponderous” contemporaries like Smog and Cat Power. A great marijuana record (I hate to reducing any record to that), shifting from jokey to melancholy. French stands as a great “indie” album from the 90s. Yet it’s still a bit too scattered to be considered the band’s best work. There’s something preserved here, and throughout the Fuck’s discography, that was lost when the genre became more popular.

Conduct (1998)

There’s a certain darkness to this one. Some of the lighthearted nature of French is lost, which is surprising for a band called Fuck. Louder and a bit more unhinged, Conduct tries for something new and expands the band’s pallet a bit. It’s a fractured, drunken masterpiece that sounds more confident than French. There’s a loveliness to direct songs like “Drinking Artist,” “Laundry Shop,” “Never Comin’ Back,” “Get Over Him” and closer “Blind Beauty.” Even goofs like “Monkey Doll” and “Twist Off” are still pretty convincing. Melancholy folk/country is still where the band shines the best, though. Conduct is more like a collection of songs than a collection of interesting sketches. It’s possibly the band’s finest moment.

Cupid’s Cactus (2001)

This one loses some of the immediacy and memorability of Conduct. The opener “Glass Charms” dispels any potential sincerity with a faux-country accent part. Yet, after that point, the music of Cupid’s Cactus is even darker and slower moving than Conduct. A better point of comparison would be a more joke-y Low rather than Pavement. “Someday Aisle” is a gorgeous meditation that feels like a good companion to closing time at a bar. While Fuck was never bad at louder songs, the decision to focus on the slowcore side of its sound was a good idea. That said, the louder songs like “Awright” and “Never Alone” are still highlights and break things up a bit.

“Panties off” is a horribly depressing song about prostitution for drugs (I think), but gets across something the band has alluded to in more subtle ways on previous albums. The intention seems to be that sadness exists but there’s unintentional humor that’s impossible avoid even in the worst times. Some could read into this as mean-spirited or trivializing, but there’s something deeper and more complicated at work in these songs. This is something Fuck conveys better than say Ween.

Those Aren’t My Bongos (2003)

This might be the quintessential Fuck album. It gets its point across more clearly than the previous albums and sounds downright pretty. Those Aren’t My Bongos opens immediately questioning the audience’s uptight opinions on sex: “Does the penis offend you? Do the female charms alarm?” This might be the right disclaimer for every Fuck album. It seems like the band’s overarching goal is to create a sense of empathy and discuss the awkward parts of sex more openly. This is all done with a goofy lightheartedness to help balance the darker passages. The romantic acoustic strum of “Her Plastic Acupuncture Foot” was my introduction to the band. I’d argue it’s one of its best songs. How many bands can successfully weave a cartoon blowjob reference into something so romantic? Throughout the album some slight electronics are used as accents, working to vary the band’s sound a bit. Taking out individual moments on this one doesn’t really make sense; it definitely works better together. One that’s impossible not to mention, though, is the gorgeous “How to Say.” The song might be one of Fuck’s strangest considering how direct and sincere it is. TAMB is a patchwork of strange jokes and melancholy swirling together to make a truly unique statement. It rivals Conduct as the band’s best album.

The Band (2018)

It seemed like Fuck all but disappeared after Those Aren’t My Bongos. I was beyond shocked to see they were back together and had a new album out. This one sticks closer to albums like Pardon My French and Conduct, alternating between louder and softer songs. It’s also lighter and more jokey. “Cream Pie Patch” and “Thirsty Gnome” get closer to the balance struck on TAMB, reveling in sex jokes. It’s hard to call a Fuck album fun, but The Band definitely comes close. “Meet the Gibbons” for example is definitely sort of disturbing in its descriptions of mutilation, detracting from the fun vibe of the previous song (“Thirsty Gnome”). “Leave My Body” is a dreamy reverie of a song, leaning on the folk/country the band does so well. The back half of the album abandons the odder moments for the touching, slow-motion ballads Fuck excels at. The Band is a good example of a reunion record: A bit of a progression, a bit of a reminder. There’s something oddly comforting about that even for a band this deeply uncomfortable.

For a playlist of Fuck songs I put together click here.