A longer version of this article was originally published by New Feeling
Toronto hardcore legends Fucked Up have always been a thoughtful group – singing and speaking up about the things they care about, but also in their approach to music itself. So when it came to writing and recording their sixth full-length album in the middle of COVID lockdowns and uncertainty, they found that trying something a bit different could be just the right creative catalyst.
Their shortest album to date (10 taut songs in 40 minutes), One Day was – as the title suggests – written and recorded in just one day, though with some leeway for COVID lockdown constraints and the fact that the band members often record their parts separately.
Guitarist Mike Haliechuk initially envisioned the concept in 2019 prior to the pandemic, writing and recording the music for the album’s 10 tracks over three eight-hour sessions.
“I just wanted to get something out quickly. The last few records, we took several years – and when we got back from the last album tour, it felt like we had come back from the moon or something,” Haliechuk says by phone from his home in Toronto.
“Initially I was thinking of [the record] as a non-committal, chill thing. And I always like to come up with contrivances or weird, wacky ideas to start recording. Doing it in a day felt appropriate – and then other meanings for doing it that way kept coming up afterwards.”
When the pandemic hit weeks later, the idea of releasing something quickly went out the window, but the rest of the band stuck to the guideline of doing their parts within the same 24-hour timespan – a challenge that proved more fruitful than limiting.
“What I liked was that I got to do what I wanted, because I was alone and I had time to play and redo some things on my own,” says bassist Sandy Miranda during a Zoom call a few days later alongside vocalist/bellower Damian Abraham (the band also includes guitarist Josh Zucker and drummer Jonah Falco). “In the old days in our practice space, it was often more directed by Mike, and I’d be a little bit like, ‘Don’t tell me what to do – do you have trust in my creative process?’” she adds with a laugh.
“But even though we were separate, I felt like we were more collaborative. I’m a bit of a loner at heart, so being on my own in my comfort zone really worked for me. I felt like I had a bit more freedom with my contribution.”
Abraham was initially set to record his vocals in early 2020 in Vancouver, but One Day was put on pause for two years while the band turned their attention to the Year of the Horse 12-inch. A busy father of three, Abraham eventually managed to find time to record his parts in four six-hour blocks. Having time to ruminate over the songs also saw him return to contributing lyrics for the first time since 2014’s Glass Boys.
“When I actually had to sit down and write the lyrics within that so-called ‘24-hour’ period, I wondered if I could do it,” Abraham admits, puffing clouds of smoke from a joint. “But I had these melodies and choruses and a couple lines bouncing around in my head for a long time at that point, so it really came very easily.”
Given Haliechuk’s role as the de facto musical director of the band, he usually shapes the sound and concept for each new Fucked Up album before bringing his bandmates in to fully realize that creative vision. Asked how he and Abraham decide which tracks they’ll each write lyrics for, Haliechuk quips that he usually lets Abraham have his way, but adds, “It’s almost like doing draft picks.” At first the two planned to write collaboratively, but pandemic restrictions soon scuttled that idea.
“I wonder what it’s like for Mike,” Abraham says with a chuckle, “because I know that when he writes the songs, he’s got a particular vision in mind for how they’re going to sound – and by the time I’m done with them, I’m sure they’re completely unrecognizable [to him].”
“I’ve only now come to appreciate what a trust and sort of surrender that is as a creative person, to be able to just give things over like that. I won’t even let anyone else edit my podcast, let alone write lyrics to a song that I worked on myself!”
More than two decades into their career, Fucked Up sound more vital than ever on One Day – which to the uninitiated might come across as far more melodic than their reputation as high-energy punks might imply. While Abraham’s roar is as fierce as ever and the rhythm section still raises the listener’s pulse, the melodies are relentlessly memorable and the lyrics deeply pensive.
“I think we started as a very distilled project where we were writing under the guidance of very specific punk songs. We were into ’80s American DIY music and late-’70s small-batch British punk records. And as weird or obscure as some of those bands are, they’re all trying to write pop songs, right? Everybody who puts a record out, they’re trying to make a hit – whether they admit it or not. No one goes into the studio thinking, ‘I hope no one hears this,’” Haliechuk notes.
“As time has gone on, just realizing that there are ways to incorporate other sounds into what I do has made me enjoy the challenge of trying different things,” Abraham adds. “To some, it probably does not sound like a lot of diverse experimenting going on in my vocals. It’s like Where’s Waldo – the melody is always hiding there, but it might be under a bunch of screaming,” he quips.
While they’re never afraid to change things up in their sound or approach to making music, what remains constant is Fucked Up’s place in Toronto’s cultural scene – an influence that goes beyond their music. Aside from being an integral part of a groundbreaking wave of local indie music that began in the early 2000s, the band has maintained an unwavering commitment to social and artistic movements – including the Long Winter arts and music series founded by Haliechuk and Zucker; the band’s longtime penchant for holding all-ages shows in offbeat venues across the city; and their fundraisers to support local causes from women’s shelters to harm-reduction programs.
Those community values are reflected in songs like One Day’s “Lords of Kensington,” in which Abraham laments the gentrification of one of Toronto’s beloved neighbourhoods – while candidly acknowledging his own role in that same evolution. The changes in their city and the many difficult issues that come with it – from rising homelessness and housing shortages to venue closures and artists’ inability to make a living – are clearly top of mind.
“Over the last few years, even since we’ve written the record, Toronto has become a very different place,” Haliechuk says.
“As we were writing the album, we lost our practice space, and so many other things closed. It really does seem like in the last 10 to 15 years, the focus has really changed from Toronto being a weird, cool place to just sort of a cold, sterile assembly of condo units – which is painful for those of us that wanted something else,” he adds.
“It’s tough seeing the churn – there was already a shortage of spaces, and the rising rents do add a bleakness to the city,” Miranda concurs. “But we’re here, and we’re going to keep going as long as we can – and hopefully more places will crop up to foster that same sense of community that we thrived on in the early days.”
From their earliest days as chaotic provocateurs to One Day’s decidedly adult preoccupations with time and memory, Fucked Up have managed to sustain a long career where change remains the common denominator but one thing stays the same: their dedication to the ever-evolving experiment that is Fucked Up.
“We set out to be a weird, belligerent band who never put out records or toured, so we definitely didn’t achieve what we set out to do,” Haliechek jokes. “There’s a lot of stressful things that go into being a band like this, but we really like making music – that’s the constant. So that’s really where we ended up.”
Abraham echoes his bandmate’s thoughts, but goes a step further: “I don’t know who I would be as a person without Fucked Up – I got to grow with these people, and they became my family. To be able to do this every day – as a kid, this is all I would have ever wanted in my wildest dreams.”
This article appeared in the 2023 Feb/Mar issue.
