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Music

You Did What?

Cursed are from Canada and play all-out-war crusty hardcore that reminds you of Born Against, Nausea, pre-boredom Neurosis and Echonochrist.

Photo of Chris Colohan's tubes getting tied by Chris Colohan

Cursed are from Canada and play all-out-war crusty hardcore that reminds you of Born Against, Nausea, pre-boredom Neurosis and Echonochrist. Like many other hardcore singers, the frontman Chris Colohan takes things waaaay too far. Not too far as in "I'm quitting being a vegan Straight Edger and becoming a devil worshipper whose favourite pizza topping is meat and cocaine"; way. Something far worse that that. What happened was, three years ago he quit Cursed and moved from Toronto to Montreal where he went on a year-long sex bender that was like if Suicide Girls made a video for meatholes.com. All these antics ended up in his yet-to-be-published book Other People's Girlfriends which culminates in our protagonist getting a vasectomy. Yes, that's right. His mind got so screwed by fucking all those other people's chicks that he got his balls burned and tied up in a weird act of contrition or something like that. VICE: Hey Chris, you total fucking psycho. Talk us through it. Chris: Well they cauterized it shut. Hang on, I need to cross my legs. It wasn't that bad. The doctor was nice, he had a calming demeanour. The surgery itself was simple. Maybe a half hour. There was a picture of Hawaii on the ceiling for those seeking distraction. Me, I wanted to look. It was extraordinary, seeing it on the outside of my body…It was a small, white, umbilical-looking cord. I feel nauseous. He clipped, opened, cauterized, clamped. In the waiting room I was really spaced out. I stood up too fast and fell over. I suppose it is the shock to the system. Even if the local anaesthetic has tricked the brain for the time being, the body knows it has been opened up, fucked with and permanently altered. The nurse gave me some orange juice as she reviewed the masturbatory homework assignment of the next weeks with me. There would be twenty ejaculations until it was officially flushed through me. And what a waste of a great pickup line: "No, really. It's medical."; I need someone to help me have twenty ejaculations. She asked me how I felt. I said "Diffused";. ANDRE CORPER