Hardcore’s not as scary as it looks, kids. Photos by .
I wanted lead singer, Damian “Pink Eyes” Abraham, to be scarier. I half-expected an unflinching and rabid performance from Abraham as he appeared in front of me, an ape-ish figure who paced the tiny stage at the last Wednesday night with pack leader authority.
But there was no fear, no erratic animal behavior from the big, cuddly teddy bear in an airbrushed “Coke Sucks, Drink Pepsi,” shirt. He was uncompromisingly fired-up, but far from scary as he began to scream, looking possessed as he pulled at his own face and clothes as his round frame teetered on the monitors. The other five mismatched members of F***ed Up reminded me of the cast of “The Goonies” as they shook and jerked around behind Abraham, their small bodies cowering under his presence.
In between songs, Abraham was pleasant, chatting with the audience and telling jokes and sharing stories from tour. But once the chainsaw of guitars started into the next song, he would turn back into the primal performer, wrapping the mic cord around his neck while spitting water all over the audience.
As he roared through “David Christmas” and “Baiting the Public,” Abraham framed his mouth with a devil-horn hand sign, his eyes growing large with each exacerbated and intrusive expulsion. Someone in the crowd requested “Police,” but Abraham stated jokingly that the song couldn’t be played yet, equating the track to this generation’s “Free Bird,” and they would just have to wait.
2009 has already become excellent year for live shows, and F***ed Up’s great performance can be added to the list. If there is such a thing as hardcore-lite, I think itap encased in F***ed Up’s politically-driven, manically-layered sound. Jagged and deafening melodies wrapped tight around Abraham’s anthemic howls were accessible even to me, a person who considers most hardcore other than Black Flag “headache music.” But my princess taste has been taught a lesson, and now I’m all about F***ed Up.
And a side note, I would like to thank the Larimer Lounge for moving their soundboard to the back of the venue. Itap amazing how much better a show feels and sounds when the stage is open and visible to every part of the room.
Bree Davies plays bass in , writes about her obsessions with Iggy Pop and Lil’ Wayne in and repeatedly fakes her own death at . She is also a self-proclaimed addict.
is a Denver photographer and a regular contributor to Reverb.
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