Fucked Up have spent two decades reimagining the rock band as a kind of research laboratory. No appreciation of the Toronto collective is complete without a litany of the experiments they’ve undertaken, and I won’t break with tradition here: Fucked Up have been a brawny, elemental hardcore band, as heard on their early 7″ output. They’ve expanded that sound into a kind of proggy chamber-punk, as on The Chemistry Of Common Life. They’ve tackled the double-album rock opera, first with the melodic but muscular David Comes To Life and later with the gleefully all-over-the-place Dose Your Dreams. They’ve made nine EPs inspired by the signs of the Chinese Zodiac. Last year, they released the stomping, sludgy Oberon, veering as close to metal as they ever have. That list covers maybe a quarter of the identities Fucked Up have embodied over the years. Words like “eclectic” and “chameleonic” are inadequate. Fucked Up are one-of-one.