Please note: All events beginning 10/1/2021 will require attendees to show evidence of their full vaccination against COVID-19. Full vaccination means 14 days or more have passed since the attendee has received a single-dose vaccine or the second dose in a two-dose series. Acceptable vaccination documentation may be a physical copy of a COVID-19 Vaccination Record Card, a digital copy of such card or such other proof as is permitted locally. The City of Cambridge Public Health Commission is requiring all attendees to wear a mask while indoors in a public setting. In addition to the above, please check https://coronavirusupdates.bowerypresents.com for information on any local rules or restrictions.
$.25 from each ticket purchased will go to The Shout Syndicate, a Boston-based, volunteer-run fundraising effort who raises money to help fund youth-led arts programs at proven non-profit creative youth development organizations in Greater Boston. Housed at The Boston Foundation, The Shout Syndicate works in partnership with the Mayor's Office of Arts & Culture's creative plan, Boston Creates. https://www.theshoutsyndicate.com/
I was sent an unfinished version of Dose Your Dreams so that I might contribute string parts. I couldn’t stop listening to the rough mixes I received. A friend asked me how the record was. I replied, “My God, Fucked Up have made their Screamadelica.”
And psych-rock-groove it is. The drums mixed wide, propensity for drones, for delay pedal, for repetition, groove. The politics and aesthetics of hardcore married to an “open format” approach to genre. Elements of doo-wop, krautrock, groove, digital hardcore.
“None of Your Business Man” opens the album in familiar enough territory, a sax-assisted exit from an office space. But things get psychedelic very quickly. By the time the title track arrives, Mike Haliechuk is whispering, wah pedals are in full effect, and we’re wearing oversized t-shirts and pinwheeling. “Accelerate,” the lyrical centerpiece of the album, storms in like Boredoms on a bullet train and dissolves into a digital nightmare. The album closer, “Joy Stops Time,” finds Fucked Up at their most Düsseldorfian, nearly eight minutes of blissful motorik.
At the center of it all is Damian Abraham’s scream—a man chained, a man tortured, a true protagonist. The effect is one of an epic, every chapter attempting its own narrative devices, its own genre hybridization—and it works, it works so insanely well. The drama unfolds like a miniature world of many parts being explored, a map being illuminated, location by location.
As with David Comes to Life, there is a story here. David—who once came to life—is now indentured to a desk job. David meets the elderly Joyce who closes his eyes, opens his mind, and sends him on a spiritual journey. David embarks on his own metaphysical odyssey. He sees a stage adaptation of his own life. He speaks to an angel in a lightbulb. He sees an infinite series of universes as simulations within simulations.
Meanwhile, Lloyd—Joyce’s lover—was sent, decades ago, by Joyce on the same odyssey, but was lost in the void. Lloyd seeks to be found and reunited with his lover. Where will David end up? Will Joyce and Lloyd be reunited?
Dose Your Dreams—meaning: treat your dreams as you would a dream, allow yourself to be lost within them, allow them to open your heart and your mind, enjoy them as you would a drug. Reach out for my hand and pull me close.