Holy Fuck

Firstly, there's something I must get off my chest: I was never really that crazy about Holy Fuck's first two albums. Amongst the musical clutter and hyperactive tempos, I heard potential, but nothing about their jittery, almost nervous sound ever convinced me to stick around for more than a song or two. Then came Latin. On their third swing of the bat, Holy Fuck have hit a resounding home run, one that will simultaneously convince the naysayers, thrill devotees and complete the band's evolution from hype-y buzz band to established scene mainstay. In many ways, the band's semi-titular first single, "Latin America," was an early indicator of Latin's simple and effective new sound; instead of everything-and-the-kitchen-sink instrumental complexity at breakneck speed, Holy Fuck opt for spaciousness and slowed-down grooviness, meaning that the listener can now hear everything the band are up to. Whether that means revelling in their sudden knack for melody or their newfound penchant for sensuousness is a personal choice, but either way, it's inarguably a good thing. Where in the past, Holy Fuck's musical overeagerness often overwhelmed their songs and, in some cases, the listener, Latin is a breath of fresh air, not to mention the best album of their career.