Album Review: Fucked Up – Year of the Goat

Fucked Up, and anything but.

Canadian hardcore outfit Fucked Up are launching hard into the final phase of their long-running Zodiac saga, beginning with the two-track, hourlong epic that is Year of the Goat. Fucked Up are punk rockers precisely to the extent that they are also prog-rock artisans and wild-eyed storytellers. Year of the Goat proudly boasts that unfiltered and uncompromising vision of grandeur. 

The genre-bending, lore-intensive, protracted rock opera – brimming with recurring characters and grippingly self-serious poetry – is almost an experiential paradox. Something this melodramatic and prolonged should be difficult to enjoy in spite of its obvious artistic merit; it seems flagrantly antithetical to punk, does it not? And yet, it is exactly why Year of the Goat kicks so brilliantly. Something so dripping with confidence, with personality and voice, is impossible not to love. By the time the B-side “Rivers and Lakes” spins to a stop, the ludicrous concept of a record having two decades of prerequisite material seems entirely justified. 

Year of the Goat is a test of patience, certainly, but I would argue that it is much more a test of cynicism. When the music industry so internalizes its own norms and formulas, so resigns itself to three-minute verse-chorus purgatory, openness suffers. This is the sort of record that popheads and punk purists alike would scoff at. And so, it is a necessary reminder of what music is truly capable of. Two half-hour courses is only a tall task on the premise that music should be bitesized gratification. Fucked Up have far greater aspirations than that. 

Sit down. Set aside an hour of your afternoon. Listen to the rich percussion, hardcore howls, vital riffs, dreamlike production and slew of incredible vocalists that Goat has to offer. Follow every melody and stanza, every bit of character expressed through voice and instrument. It will prove rewarding, rest assured.