If Fucked Up are no longer a hardcore band, what are they? On their fourth studio album, they continue to move towards a layered, textured modern rock sound – still ferociously loud, but shorn of the brute aggression of hardcore. But there's a problem at the heart of it all, and it's the very thing that defines Fucked Up: their singer, Damian Abraham. He's one of rock's most compelling frontmen – democratic, funny and charismatic – and absolutely crucial to their rise. But while the band behind him have moved away from hardcore's straighthead rama-lama for some years, Abraham's voice still has the guttural bark of the punk singer. And these songs needs something more: if nothing else, they need topline melodies, and Abraham cannot supply them. It makes Glass Boys a tiring experience, as you search for tunes that logic tells you must be there, but which the recording fails to deliver, putting too great a burden on lead guitar lines and backing vocals to add melodic shade. Goodness knows how they square this circle, but if they don't, Fucked Up will surely find they've reached the limits of what they can achieve.
