Holy F*ck

The Grey Eagle and Worthwhile Sounds Present

Holy F*ck

Battery Powered Hooker Boots

Sun, May 14, 2017

Doors: 8:00 pm / Show: 9:00 pm

$15.00

This event is all ages

STANDING ROOM ONLY

Holy F*ck
Holy F*ck
Holy Fuck took the world by surprise around 2005 because there was just nothing like them—a hardcore thrift-store found-object punk band with a relentless commitment to rhythm and a sense for atmosphere better matched to a close encounter of the third kind than a simple rock concert. Think Einstürzende Neubauten re-inspired by Fela Kuti with Brian Eno working as keyboard tech and every channel on the mixer set to max power. It was the best ride out there while it lasted, up to and including their 2010 full-length Latin, recorded largely in too-brief breaks while on the road. That album cemented Holy Fuck’s sound and reputation for unapologetic instrumental noise but at the end of yet another insane touring cycle, it was time to take a break … which turned into a hiatus … which turned into a chance to explore other projects and production work. (Like the bands Lids, Dusted and Etiquette, or production for Metz, Alvvays and Viet Cong.)

They’d been moving faster than they’d ever expected, especially after a 2007 sophomore release that came close to securing Canada’s prestigious Juno and Polaris Music Prize. (Not to mention festival slots at All Tomorrow’s Parties, Glastonbury, Coachella and more—plus Lou Reed said they were the best band he’d seen at SXSW.) The strategy was just to stay busy, says founder and noisemaster Brian Borcherdt, but soon they started to feel like Indiana Jones running from that boulder: “He had to step aside and let things settle!”

But there’s nothing Indiana Jones does better than the shock reveal, is there? And so in 2016 Holy Fuck suddenly announced the release of Congrats, a surprise full-length two years in the making that is by any scientific measure their holiest fuckiest release ever: “When you’re sitting still in a van and staring out the windows, you start to dream about all the other things you want to do,” says Borcherdt. “This album is exactly what we couldn’t do then.”

Checking into a “proper” studio, rather than the barn in rural Ontario where most of Holy Fuck’s records were made, Congrats was recorded by the same lineup that recorded Latin: Borcherdt, Graham Walsh, Matt “Punchy” McQuaid, and Matt Schulz. As they worked, they discovered that Congrats was a process of refining things, Walsh says—both physically and philosophically. Their ad hoc arsenal of low-budget hi-tech toys has been streamlined down to what he calls the nervous system of the band: “What gets run through our system is the seed of the idea for our music, and the system is what we play. This record is almost a beginning—the first stage of a new way for us.”

So consider those previous albums prelude to Holy Fuck’s true breakthrough, and recognize Congrats as the moment when Holy Fuck take the chaos and craziness (and charm) that have always been at the heart of their band and not so much control it as concentrate it. Now they’re heavier, wilder, leaner, sharper, more daring and more unpredictable than ever before, on fire with the power of inspired outsiders like Suicide, Silver Apples, Can, Mission of Burma or the Monks or even Sun Ra, says Borcherdt, whose pursuit of his own kind of musical purity is exactly what Holy Fuck are after. Yes, it took them a few years, which in 2016 is supposed to be the career suicide, but they took that time to take chances. “We were told we did everything wrong,” Borcherdt says now, laughing—but really Congrats is the sound of a band doing absolutely everything right.
Battery Powered Hooker Boots
Battery Powered Hooker Boots
In 2015 The Universe decided to bring together two wayward, ceaselessly seeking musicians that had no business being in the same project.

The first: a skeletal shredder whose only purpose was to melt faces with bone-dry tube amps and raw dexterity. He spent centuries touring the cities of the South, thriving off the pleasures and pains of slinging hot, molten metal from the tentacles of North Carolina’s inkiest doom band, SQUIDLORD. The Disco Goddess had mastered his passion for scraping and abusing the strings he drew tightly across his shit-oozing hum buckers with his crusty neon painted claws; but it would take more than a hydrogen bomb to break through the concrete and steel that encased his mind in order to find absolute, multi-instrumental audio annihilation.

The second: a workaholic, shamanistic wizard of science, who locked himself in a cabin by the mythical waterfalls of Shumont Mountain for an unknown period of time with only a VCR, an impossible pan-dimensional guitar pedal rig, and magical toy poodle companion. He was composing complex loops and blissful, majestic symphonies. It has been rumored that Daisy Chains could blow a kiss into his 1970’s single coil pickups and the electronic signal that passed through his custom built effects pedals could produce a sound wave so beautiful that any woman who heard it would die of Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. But Daisy Chains was only expressing a small fraction of his conscience, and had not yet unlocked the ability to express the pain and grit that comes with living the life of a true artist.

All it took was an accidental encounter and a brief conversation over hoppy microbrews and fried pickles, and Disco and Daisy agreed to a session. At first, just some drums and guitar deep in the SQUID’S LAIR. It was total shit. They were too different. It could never work. Then a bad joke from a ink-brained master of harmonic composition told the two to start a techno band. And so the squid commandeth, and so the two knew what they must do. They would unite and fuse their half-assed philosophies into a brand new project that would galvanize Asheville, North Carolina into a new paradigm of poor taste and kerosene-soaked excitement. They wouldn't start a tech-no band, they would start a tech-yes band using the new answer to their impossibility as a duo: Electronic Trash.

And so, the pair ventured forth, and with ancient rituals, they summoned perverse noise from any instrument they could get their hands on: buzzy analogue synthesizers, archaic drum machines, crap vocoders, and sticky thrift shop children’s toys. Eventually, they found themselves utilizing the very video game systems that first exposed good music into their lives. Basically anything that wasn't a computer — and would terrify anyone with a steady job and neck tie — was game.

Two full years of experimenting with these electronic sounds and the project went from sounding like your grandma’s vibrator thrashing on a concrete floor to an epic amalgam of LFOs, 8 bit nostalgia, and shredding guitars toppling over impossibly heavy bass riffs, all melted over East Coast style hip hop beats. Battery Powered Hooker Boots was born, and now in the year 2017, the band, along with Daisy Chains’ illegally named upcycled synthesizer company BPHBinc is ready to come out and give the music business the business.
Venue Information:
The Grey Eagle
185 Clingman Ave
Asheville, NC, 28801
http://www.thegreyeagle.com/