Spike Fuck

<p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">For ten years Melbourne&rsquo;s <strong>Spike Fuck</strong> has existed more as a messy myth than an artist &ndash;</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">sporadic works forever poised on the precipice of triumph, rumours of death or insanity and</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">so on. Spike&rsquo;s foray into music in 2015 served a cultural fantasy, not by any overarching</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">sense of ambition, but rather a would-be, cosplay pop star arrested by his own devices and</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">whose melancholy wove through unlikely cultural circles. His sole body of work, The</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">Smackwave EP (Partisan Records), addressed themes as literal as the title suggests: drug</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">use, gender identity, religion and existentialism. Soon after its release, Spike was swept up</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">in the whirlwind of unexpected success, moving from underground warehouse parties to</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">being draped in high fashion and editorial photoshoots accompanied by interviews, in which</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">he gave unrelenting and uncensored details of his life.<br><br></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">On the precipice of breakthrough, Spike disappeared. Bootleg uploads and comments on old</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">YouTube videos discussed possibilities that seemed wild but believable, given Spike&rsquo;s</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">nature, fueling rumours of monastic solitude, relapse, or reinvention as a LinkedIn-worthy</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">daytime professional. Only the most sincere have kept his myth alive.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br></p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">The arrival of his long-awaited debut full-length record <strong>evidence</strong>, out October 2nd 2026, is a</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">brazed proof of life statement. A carnal, confident record, it offers no explanation for Spike&#39;s</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">absence, and abandons the unmitigated pursuit of knowing his &#39;true self&#39; that drove his</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">earlier fixations. Rather it honors presence in the body: feeling over rationalization. The</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">material on evidence touches on elements of new wave, glam, soul and doo-wop, citing Pere</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">Ubu, New York Dolls, The Temptations and Bettye Swan as key influences. His concern is</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">no longer who he is, but when he is. This is evidence. The album&#39;s purpose is eponymous</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">and self-evident. There is no point in interrogating attachments, virtue or value. The only</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">rightful way to live is to be.</p>