Fcukers Turn Montréal Into Their Own House Party
Brooklyn duo Fcukers didn’t emerge out of nowhere. They built their buzz the way a lot of New York’s most exciting projects still do: by showing up in the right rooms and turning them into something memorable. We see this with the likes of one of my favourite on-the-rise bands, Lip Critic, who recently took over a Brooklyn laundry mat and later a boxing ring. Fcukers adopted sets in unconventional spaces, like an empty swimming pool rave, and favoured DIY parties that blurred the lines of your typical gig, like a recent house party performance at photographer Pooneh Ghana’s place in Austin that captured just how far their reach has spread.
Since signing to Ninja Tune’s Technicolour imprint, that momentum has only accelerated. Opening slots for artists like Justice and Tame Impala, with dates alongside Harry Styles on the horizon, have positioned the duo on a sharp upward trajectory. Still, their own headline shows have largely remained rooted in intimacy, favouring smaller rooms even as demand continues to grow.
That tension was palpable in Montréal, where Fcukers packed the main floor of Société des arts technologiques. The space felt less like a formal venue and more like an extension of their earlier DIY environments. It was dense, sweaty, and expectant, with the sense that the night could tip in any direction.
On paper, Fcukers’ cool can read as almost blasé. In practice, their live show tells a different story. Jackson Walker moves with a restless physicality—jumping across the stage, switching between instruments, pushing the set far beyond the expectations of a typical electronic act. There’s a live-band immediacy to what they do; nothing about it feels static or pre-programmed.
They tore through material from their new album O and the crowd proved they knew every word as they sang along with barely a phone in sight because they were too busy dancing (I was shocked). If an attendee was filming, it was heartwarmingly their friends grinding to the beat. “If You Wanna Party, Come Over to My House” landed exactly as intended—less a hook than a directive—while “Beatback” and “L.U.C.K.Y” leaned into a controlled chaos that kept the crowd locked in. “Play Me,” with its ’90s UKG undercurrent, pulled the room into a frenzy.
What’s striking is how deliberately that energy is shaped. For a project often framed through its nonchalant aesthetic, there’s a clear level of care behind the pacing and the transitions. They make it feel casual, but it’s anything but.
Their growing connection to Montréal also surfaced in real time. The duo recently collaborated with Tiga on “Silk Scarf,” a track that bridges their New York roots with Québec’s electronic lineage. Midway through the set, that connection materialized when they brought out Skiifall for a surprise appearance on “TTYGF,” shifting the energy from high to collective.
By the end of the night, the boundary between stage and crowd had thinned to almost nothing. That’s the throughline in Fcukers’ live show—the sense that what they’re building isn’t just a performance, but a shared environment. As the duo closed with crowd favourite “Bon Bon” off their debut EP, the room erupted—attendees chanting and clapping for more. An encore doesn’t necessarily feel in Fcukers’ nature, but the crowd’s hunger was undeniable. If anything, it made one thing clear: people aren’t ready for it to end.
