Concert Review: Holy Fuck

Holy Fuck, with A Place to Bury Strangers and Bald Eagle

The Record Bar

By ANDREW MILLER

Photos by Scott Spychalski

“Is this Holy Fuck yet?” a recent arrival asked fellow concertgoers midway through opening band Bald Eagle’s set. This inquiry communicated that 1) The questioner came exclusively to see the headlining act, and 2) He had no idea what they looked or sounded like. It was a fitting display of mystery fandom on a night populated by atypical Record Bar attendees, such as the gathering of gesticulating dudes rocking the jeans-with-a-blazer look. Not that there’s anything wrong with this prep-set invasion – these guys danced more enthusiastically and frequently than the venue’s regulars – but it’s worth wondering how this demographic learned about the concert. It’s not as if local radio stations were able to promote the show, for fear of intoning the band’s moniker.

Indie-rock tourists aside, many Holy Fuck ticket-buyers had seen Battles at the Record Bar in 2007, and had reason to expect another memorable beat-driven, largely instrumental performance. However, the Toronto-based quartet fell short of this standard. Whereas Battles displayed a DJ’s knack for segues, stringing songs together until they formed an undulating epic, Holy Fuck stopped after every tune, forfeiting rhythmic momentum. A few numbers ended abruptly at the crest of their crescendos, making the build-ups feel anticlimactic.