The first time I ever saw Holy Fuck was by accident. A few years ago, arriving early at the Southgate House to see !!!, I was pleasantly surprised by the sounds of the opening band. They ran at breakneck speed through songs of warbling electronics, distorted vocals, frantic drums, and driving bass. Someone told me the band was called Holy Fuck.

Since then, I’ve learned more about Holy Fuck as a band. They create electronic music with the express purpose of leaving out modern laptop and sampler-based sequencing and synthesizing. They like to use non-musical devices (film loopers, toys, etc.) to create walls of electronic sound. Due to their name, Holy Fuck were essentially singled out by conservative Canadian politicians as anecdotal justification for the cancellation of Canada’s PromArt program, which had provided funds for touring Canadian artists.

However, what’s most important about the band is that their newest album, Latin, is one of the best albums of 2010 so far. Heading into their show at the Cincinnati Club last night, I was excited to hear Latin’s songs translated to live setting. They didn’t disappoint: Holy Fuck hit their news songs even harder live than they do on the record, filtering their ability for massive, noisy squall through more mature tension-and-release songwriting.

I made it to the Cincinnati Club, one of the many showcases on the first night of MidPoint Music Festival, in time to see You, You’re Awesome’s set. I’ve always enjoyed their blend of bright electronics, pounding drums, and inventive video projections. I don’t know if they felt they had been neglecting the bottom end of the sonic scale lately, because I noticed their snyths were rocking the lower frequencies pretty hard. I had only seen them live once before, so it may have been a product of a sound guy’s tastes. It wasn’t anything that got in the way of enjoying their sharply sugary hooks, but I did think to myself that Holy Fuck would have to crank up the volume to get past my shuddering eardrums.

They did. I never knew what the members of Holy Fuck were doing with their tables of electronics, but it was clear they knew how to harness their sonic trickery into lush, enveloping sound. The swelling crescendo they erupted into at the start of their set was nothing short of beautiful, and throbbed to an impossible high before quickly collapsing into their signature pulsating beat.

Holy Fuck have improved their sound through restraint. Instead of keeping themselves locked into the high-gear, balls-to-the-wall noise jams of 2007’s LP, they’ve written a batch of with more subdued and intricate melodies. Live, this sonic template is even more engaging because the volume intensity more clearly betrays the menacing potential for massive noise explosions lurking behind every hushed interlude. Through every peak and valley of volume, the driving drums and precise, thundering bass keeps the four-piece on beat and connected to an underlying rock rhythm. When Holy Fuck did cut loose and unleash their electronic fury, they nailed every note. Their weirdo take on high-pitched melody with distorted toy microphone yelps and stuttering melodica phrases pierced through the rich curtains of electronic sound that were occasionally ripped to shreds by brutal electronic beats.

The turnout was great at the Cincinnati Club, and every member of the crowd seemed equal parts celebratory and enthralled. This Canadian electronic music connected with festival-goers and attracted them like flies – the venue steadily filled with bodies throughout the show. It was a testament to the expansiveness of Cincinnati music fans’ tastes that such a large crowd amassed to pump fists and grin widely at what could legitimately be considered a weirdo noise-rock act.

As Holy Fuck’s momentum built into a swirling mass, I felt overtaken by their sound. Looking back, I honestly can’t remember where songs ended or began. The notes and phrases seemed to blur together into a single monolithic sensation. Holy Fuck sculpted their madness into a thunderous display of intensity that bordered on a psychedelic experience.

Holy Fuck’s moniker may have cost them the arts grant dollars of Canadian taxpayers, but it perfectly fits the experience of their live show. At the end of their set, it was all I could say to describe how their music made me feel.

-John Crowell @terriblesounds