Holy Fuck:  Method in Their Madness, and the Converse

This is a nightmare. Not the one where you’re giving a presentation in class in your underwear, nor the one when you’ve leapt off a cliff after being chased by raging steroids-driven ex-wrestlers, not even the one where you’re walking around the mall, everyone’s staring and you look in a mirror to find you’ve turned into a larger-than-life tampon.

This nightmare is of a somewhat milder variety, and most definitely real: the fridge is empty. The cupboards are bare. The leftover pizza box reeks of vomit, likely from the party you barely remember hosting, and right now you are very, very, hungry.

Evaluating all possible combinations you quickly assemble the remainder of edible ingredients along the counter-peanut butter, half a bag of pepperonis, ranch, some eggs that, upon experiment, bounce, and a dubious-looking fruitcake. This is a predicament. After sweating out the options, and deciding your stomach will explode if not compensated right this minute: you must assuage yourself. The items are tossed into a bowl, mixed together, and hereby consumed out of your very justifiable, indelible lust for sustenance. Holy Fuk!

As the name exclaims, Holy Fuck is a garbage pail full of electro-robotic sounds that in the wrong hands might end up sounding like the childhood pots-and-pans jam sessions. And though improvisation is their specialty, the result is much more delectable than fruitcake pepperoni soup.

The experimental Canadian group, founded by Graham Walsh and Brian Borcherdt, makes music using everything but the kitchen sink, although that option is probably next on the list. They have a habit of performing shows without a rehearsal. Normally, a band might suffer (food made without recipes tends to turn out well only for professionals) and learn that the result is best guaranteed with practice. However, spontaneity, unusual ingredients and fresh thinking seem to be the key to HF’s lively shows. “It keeps things exciting for us,” says Borcherdt, “…the fact that there are lot of people out there excited to dance to weird music certainly must be helping our success.”

With the surge in electro-experimental-instrumental-techno-whatever of recent years, the band enjoys a growing fan base and some nationally recognized fortune. The Juno Awards, Canada’s equivalent to the Grammy’s, nominated the band’s “LP” for Alternative Album of the Year, alongside Arcade Fire’s “Neon Bible” and Tegan and Sara’s “The Con.” Although they only measure success “when our mom’s friends back in our small home towns read about us in the local paper,” the nomination may say something for the rest of the area.

As the band thrives from audience attention, the studio work is a considerable contrast to a live compilation. “Drawing from the audience’s energy makes it easier, more fun. It brings semblance to the chaos. Trying to recapture that in the studio can be just plain weird.”

“LP” is composed of a selection of live and recorded numbers, whether improvised or somewhat rehearsed, in various studios and venues. The record is best described as a solid, cohesive, ordered mess-as in underneath the veneer of practiced perfection, which is disputably deceiving, is the employment of dual drummers, odd instruments, assorted locations and little rehearsal.

They do just what they’ve set out to do, “which is make music that is interesting and fun to make…this is how we are keeping ourselves entertained.” They expect to get drunk at their shows. Their latest “instrument” is a 35mm film synchronizer. “I scroll film audio over a tape head, manipulating the dialogue and sound effects. I think there is a lot of cool stuff that one could do with a device like this.”

While the same may not be said for a late night snack, Holy F**k will have listeners uttering the name after every easily digestible performance.