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F.U.C.: Everythink

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Isn’t it funny how one word can have two meanings so completely opposite from each other but still almost mean the same thing?

Take Brisbane-based Environmental Nu-thrash noise merchants F.U.C.

Reading it as it is spelled you would (or probably should) have reservations about asking your 7-year-old daughter to read the CD cover out loud to you, but, when you expand on those three letters to reveal the bigger picture then it’s likely the fully exposed name would prove too much of a mouthful for your little one to say anyway.

F.U.C. – or Forests Under Construction – have been knocking about the local scene for longer than I have had hair on my… inner ears, and despite having only a splattering of releases during their tenure have somehow managed to retain a fanatically loyal underground fan base that rises to the occasion every time Toddy and Dan beckon them to get their F.U.C. on (insert F.U.C.head joke here).

And the simple – and only – reason for that is because these guys are just so much fucken fun it is impossible to resist.

And that’s not even going down the path of their stage attire which would surely make even the great Mayor of Kazakhstan, Borat himself, blush.

So when F.U.C. announced their new EP Everythink was “coming soon” long-time fans of the band knew not to get too excited while others thought all of their Christmases had come at once.

A selection of six in-your-face tracks – some new, some not so new – Everythink hit the open market last month and HEAVY has selfishly spent too much time listening for pure enjoyment to even bother about writing a review.

But, at the end of the day we decided this EP was too damn good not to share so here goes.

Laying all of their cards firmly on the table from the first song, F.U.C. opens with Dick Massage.

Dan shreds a new one to kick things off, his guitar screeching in sonic agony as Toddy takes out his bad hair day on his kit.

It is fast, frenetic and pulsating stuff, pausing for breath only long enough for alternating vocal changes between the two maniacal instrument-playing frontmen.

Think Snot on speed and you aren’t even close.

I’m exhausted already, and I have only had to exercise my two typing fingers so fuck knows where these two mankini-clad warriors summon their stamina from.

By the time the track ends I have almost forgotten it was about something naughty but nice as the sheer magnitude of relentless aggression cancels out any thoughts of self-relief or gratification.

Snap Off A Log starts as you might expect with the sultry sounds of someone urinating in a forest, with the unmistakable rectum sounds and movements of Toddy’s King Parrot bandmate Squizzy quickly letting us know this isn’t a song about deforestation.

Then the thrash machine reignites, and we are into sonic warfare – albeit with the foreboding subliminal stench of Squizzy’s anoos threatening imminent death at any moment.

The sound effects alone in this song are worth the running time, and for some reason I find myself wondering if the boys remembered to buy toilet paper…

Which I really hope they did because the butt action intensifies quicker than the music in a sonic race between tempo and splatter of which there can be only one winner.

Fuck sharing a tour bus with that ass.

Thrash Quest is up next, which is an ode to all of the battle vest thrash metal bands out there who thrive in their quest for thrash immortality.

Dan lets out his best metal scream to show us he means business, but I doubt Toddy even would have heard over the constant beating he is putting his kit through.

To say this song has a Slayer type appeal would be stating the bleeding obvious, but it pays homage to the movement it promotes with delicate precision.

For those who may not have been F.U.C.t before this is a good time to point out that this band is actually a duo. Not that you could tell just by listening. They produce a sound befitting an outfit more than double their size but when it boils down to it the infectious nature of their music and the flippant manner in which it is delivered are the cornerstones of their sound.

A tasty thrash guitar solo midway through reinforces the fact that this is most definitely not a love song and by the time it snaps to its inevitable conclusion I have visions more of S.O.D running through my head than F.U.C.

And I can’t even spell either of them.

The cleverly titled VIPness is up next, which is a ditty about that one time Toddy was attempting to tease Dan with the fact he was in the elite VIP class of musicians, thus declaring his unwavering love of being a VIPness.

In case you haven’t figured out by now this isn’t a philosophical sonic journey inside the human mind. Instead, it is a murky, suggestive, clever and satirical trip into metal madness that would lose much of its effect if analyzed too closely.

All of a sudden a reggae breakdown comes out of nowhere, and I’m guessing one or both of the boys finally ran out of steam. And who can blame them?

You Can’t burst to life, firmly running through a list of do’s and don’t by which every discerning metal lover should abide. Within the first 30 seconds I learn that you can’t have a forest without the trees, and you can’t have a bee hive without the bees, and you can’t have a motor without a starter and – and this one is debatable – you can’t have a wedding without a partner.

For a pair of blokes who come across like they don’t give a fuck they sure are pretty pushy when it comes to education.

It is the perfect embodiment of musical yin and yang with many a good point raised while some that you will likely never need to know adding to the adventure. By the time the track finishes, I feel like I know even less than I did before, but time will tell.

Then, almost as quickly as it began, Everythink belts out the EP closer Salad Dodger which seemingly takes aim at both carnivores and vegetarians. Love them or hate them, F.U.C are most definitely equal opportunity musicians.

But I still won’t eat cucumber.

Short, sharp and oh so sweet Everythink might not have a great handle on grammar but when it sounds this good who gives a fuck whether they can spell or not?


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