Critic's Review
David Serra, All Music Guide
When talking about San Francisco's Fuck, many people tend to draw their immediate comparison to Pavement, but on Those Are Not My Bongos, the direction this record heads puts Fuck more in common with the Silver Jews and Smog. The great thing about Fuck is that they never stop in a general area, mixing up many styles throughout Those Are Not My Bongos. Fuck move from the '90s-sounding whispery pop of "No Longer Whistler's Dream Date" to the loose jazz of "Jazz Idiodyssey" to the slowcore of "Vegas." Just when the listener may think that Fuck has settled on a slower-paced vibe in the middle of the record, the band picks up the tempo with the metaphorical murder "A Vow" and the light punkish track "Hideout." With the shifts in tempo and style, Fuck, along with production engineer Matteo Agostinelli, maintain a sound and delivery that is light and interesting. Of course, it must be stated that the highlights of Those Are Not My Bongos are ironic in that a band with a name like Fuck produces wonderful, light instrumental picking on tracks like "Hulk Baby" and "Good Eavnin'," or the country dirge of "Her Plastic Acupuncture Foot." Yes, the majority of the record is a slow-moving affair and they shift among many different styles from track to track, but the record works in a sincere and consistent manner. Those Are Not My Bongos is another solid, decent release from Fuck.
