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I had a good feeling in my stomach well before Holy Fuck ever took the stage. And seeing as how I’ve developed a pretty good instinct for good shows over the years, I knew that I was in for something special. Sure, I had read beforehand how Holy Fuck has been lauded by music festivals the world over for their one-of-a-kind show. Sure, Brian Borcherdt (keyboards, effects), Graham Walsh (keyboards, effects), Matt McQuaid (bass) and a rotating lineup of Matt Schulz and Brad Kilpatrick (drums) have toured with the likes of Wolf Parade, M.I.A., Do Make Say Think, among others. But I’ve always trusted my gut above all else. . .
Holy Fuck descended onto the stage by way of a black spiral staircase. A string of Halloween orange lights illuminated their descent. Each member took to their ‘instrument’ like a mad scientist and it was all frenzy from there. There are many words/phrases that come to mind when one sees Holy Fuck live: amazing, other-worldly, maybe even euphoric. But this group of electronic troubadours are defined by the very expletive that composes their name—evidence to suggest that these guys know exactly what they’re doing. Music has evolved through the millennia from nothing more than the simple banging of drums by our ancestors in some undetermined place. Artists nowadays take that simplicity and inject it with the modern. Holy fuck does the very opposite, injecting the modern with the simple. There are strokes of primitive proportions in what seems at first as futuristic as club music from another dimension. What better place to experience this primitivism than the cabaret-like Subterranean?
Their sound seems uncategorizable at first—and maybe it is, given that unlike most other electronica groups they rely heavily on improvisation. If I could compare it however, I would say it is akin to a post-pubescent New Order, or a Silver Apples for the new millennium. Except that these guys have a better melodic sentiment. The crowd was a bit hushed on their initial arrival on stage, but I believe this was due to the fact that not many actually knew what the band looked like. It was only until things got started that the excitement quickly escalated. Once concertgoers heard the video-game music that preludes “Safari,” however, everything was in full throttle. Holy Fuck dealt their name in oodles as they tore through the social inhibitions of everyone in the crowd, resulting in a torrid sea of dancing during the highlight of the night, ‘Royal Gregory.’ I felt chills as the group somehow evoked the ghosts of an undead Prince during the piece. My initial gut feeling had been right; this was something special. “Holy F*ck,” indeed.
All opinions expressed by Bogar Alonso are solely his own and do not reflect the opinions of Stay Thirsty Media, Inc.
