By Stephan Boissonneault
With There Is Nothing In The Dark That Isn’t There In The Light, the veteran vocalist leans into intimate, searching folk.
The American Midwest may have Chat Pile, but from Eastern Canada, we have Truck Violence, a vicious hardcore sludge four-piece that deftly utilizes truncated guitar rhythms, blast bleats, disgusting bass tones, and painful, poetic musings to create a tapestry of frenzied and bitter music about trauma, self-destruction, and community.
Their debut album is full of thematic songs about the darkened thoughts many are afraid to convey and usually sounds and feels like a tormented sledgehammer battering your senses. With all of its instrumental dysfunction, Violence is really an homage to small-town roots and a cry for comfort and love.
By Stephan Boissonneault
With There Is Nothing In The Dark That Isn’t There In The Light, the veteran vocalist leans into intimate, searching folk.
By Sam Hendriks
A refined turn toward clarity reveals Melody Prochet at her most grounded and assured.
By Judynn Valcin
Inside the Montréal musician’s shift toward ease, openness, and a sound that refuses to collapse even as it teeters.