REVIEW: Fucked Up - Year Of The Monkey

FUCKED UP are back with their new album Year Of The Monkey, the second chapter in the Grass Can Move Stones trilogy, which picks up where Year Of The Goat left off in December 2025. This marks the penultimate entry in their Zodiac album series, with nine parts coming before last year’s effort from as early as 2006, and one more left to come later this year - Year Of The Rooster, currently billed to release in October.

The Grass Can Move Stones trilogy tells the story of Monkey and Good Goat, two young friends who embark on a journey of self-discovery whilst encountering gods, magical creatures, and dangers along the way. The tale loosely follows the narrative of the fundamental Journey To The West, written in the 16th century by Wu Cheng’en. It also acts as a very loosely semi-autobiographical story of the band themselves and their journey across, around, over and under the musical spectrum.

Anchored vocally by Damian Abraham and Tuka Mohammed, on Year Of The Monkey the band is joined by a gargantuan selection of guest voices, all working in tandem to bring to life the supporting characters of Grass Can Move Stones. Amongst them are John Brannon (NEGATIVE APPROACH, LAUGHING HYENAS), Carson McHone (THE OUTFIT), Walter Schreifels (QUICKSAND, GORILLA BISCUITS, YOUTH OF TODAY), Dan Bejar (DESTROYER), Keith Morris (CIRCLE JERKS, OFF!), Jacob Bannon (CONVERGE), Brandon Welchez (CROCODILES), Chris Colohon (LEFT FOR DEAD, CURSED), Leigh Arthur (EXTRAVISION, SISSY), and Annie-Claude Deschênes (DUCHESS SAYS) reprising her role as Tiger from FUCKED UP’s 2012 release Year Of The Tiger.

Now to the music itself. As suggested earlier, the Toronto punk band have careened their way across the musical gauntlet and engaged with more genres than you can shake a stick at - and this is exactly how this release comes across. There are as many influences and inspirations as you could ever imagine, with opener Looking For Heaven And Not Finding It sounding - at one point - like the searingly emotive black metal group AGRICULTURE, and at others like the riotous punk rock they’re more regularly known for, whilst still touching on folky sounds and acoustic moments of softness. To go any further into any one track risks dissecting to the point of killing the art form, as even the shortest here (track three, Monkey Meets The Dragon), is over 24 minutes in length.

Track two of four, Before Us Tigers Stood, is a more synth-driven effort if it’s any one thing. Clocking in at the longest single track length on the release, 27:30, it’s a long piece but incredibly rewarding upon a full listen. This sentiment echoes across the whole LP, which covers four sides of vinyl comfortably. Taking up approximately 100 minutes of listening it’s certainly not a quick, train-on-the-way-to-work kind of album, but will unfurl itself to those willing to sit with it and engage fully.

Finale Empty Is The Hand felt the most impressive overall, as a track that evolves from hardcore punk rock into expansive rock, then nearing ambience before diving into the most confining and claustrophobic sounds on the album, then working back to somewhat gothic rock and alternating the two, before of course a beautifully uplifting finish that caps off a tremendous, expansive, and quite frankly, simply, damn impressive effort from the Ontarians.

It’s impossible to sum up a release like this easily, and in a not-ridiculously-long manner. But to attempt to, it is thrilling, it is gratifying and rewarding, and it’s truly a journey worth embarking upon. Taking the time to listen to this release is not for the fainthearted music fans who don’t regularly engage in even a routine album of half an hour, but for those happy to put in the legwork then that dedication will return tenfold. FUCKED UP have done so many things on this record, and amongst all that they’ve done here, they could never be accused of having fucked up.

Score: 9/10

Year Of The Monkey will be released on 5th June 2026 via Hidden World / FU Records.

Words: Jasmine Longhurst

Photos: Lindsay Duncan