Sound — 10
The worst thing about Holy Fuck is their name; no, not that it contains profanity, but that every music writer is compelled to make a bad pun to title their article, from "Holy Fuck So Good" to "Holy Fuck, Holy Holy Fuck". "Unique" doesn't describe the band's sound ("shiny" doesn't describe the colour of an apple). If you must, imagine Menomena with synthesizers and caffeine, or a mute, canadian Putte & Edgar. Holy Fuck is electronica without laptops, rock with toy keyboards; their motto is "find something in the trash, plug it in". Each of the eight tracks on this album is improvised and spontaneous; a bassist, drummer, and two other guys who play around with keyboards, effects boxes, and a 35mm film sequencer have never worked so well together. Best of all, the whole thing is quite danceable.
Lyrics — 9
As this is instrumental music, there are no lyrics (Holy Fuck has performed backing NYC rapper Beans, so sometimes the group plays "next to" lyrics, and they do sometimes talk into mics, but this is for sound effects only. There are no lyrics on this record).
Overall Impression — 9
Holy Fuck has achieved something amazing with the popularity of their eponymous first album. They have forced even family-oriented record stores to swallow the bitter pill of their own name, in the name of profit. Tracks that caught my ear were Korock, Korg Rhythm Afro, and Casio Bossa Nova. The fabulously original drumming (Blue Rodeo's Glenn Milchem) is what, more than anything else, keeps me listening. I hate most the fact they are from Toronto, but that's just my duty as a Canadian not from Toronto. In a sentence, this album is the group's unadulterated inspiration, using the tools they were given (because no one else wanted them anyway).