In the video for Glass Boys' second single, Sun Glass, Fucked Up skip through a cemetery eating ice cream and cruise around on bikes, tromping the landscape of indie rock cliché and blowing pot smoke in the faces of the straightedge kids who have been calling the band sellouts since 2006.
Like that video, Glass Boys bridges the gap between indie rock acceptability and Fucked Up's hardcore roots. More so than previous releases, this album is a bid for mainstream viability.
The band's triple-guitar offensive takes a backseat to drummer Jonah Falco and bassist Sandy Miranda's rolling rhythm section, and the lyrics ditch kabbalistic weirdness for honest songs about aging (Paper The House), compromise (The Art Of Patrons) and making peace with aging and compromise (Glass Boys). It's softer, but it's nice to see a band unafraid of mellowing. It sure beats the embarrassing snarling of icons like Keith Morris and Henry Rollins, barking about government puppetry well into middle age.
Top track: Glass Boys
Fucked Up play Field Trip at Fort York Garrison Common on June 8.