The Fucking Champs

The Fucking Champs have a rock swagger the goes far beyond their name. The trio’s metallic rock has an unapologetic arrogance and their technical dexterity and infatuation with gear has that elitist air. Some folks think this is some kind of satire, but the Fucking Champs couldn’t be any more serious. V follows in the immaculate footsteps of last year’s IV full-length, so we’re talking lightening fast kick-ass chorusing guitars, wailing drums, lots of room for soloing, humping monster riffage and guitar versions of Bach (yeah, the very dead baroque dude). We’re even talking about those ponderous progressive melodic moments and there’s some pretty experimental arty stuff on here too. Oh yeah, and these superheroes don’t waste their time with vocals, either. The Fucking Champs rule, dead serious.