Cassette
In contemporary Canada, the eastern provinces, particularly Ontario, receive the lion’s share of attention—economically, politically, and culturally. Throughout the Western provinces, this has led to the phenomenon of “Western alienation,” a broader resentment for an Eastern Canadian hegemony they perceive as ignorant of—or downright unsympathetic to—their struggles, in particular addiction and economic rot. It is this divided landscape and the disconnect and despair associated with it that drives Violence, the new album from Truck Violence. While technically based in Montréal, the punks have deep Albertan roots, manifested as a visceral combination of folk and hardcore that, on this record, feels particularly apt.
Truck Violence’s lurid combination of blast beats, breakdowns, and banjos is the perfect conduit for Karsyn Henderson to express his plain distaste for the West’s stereotyping as a wasteland. “Drunk to death” centers around a classic heartland scenario: an individual stuck in the middle of nowhere, consumed by apathy and discontent, drinking until they become a husk of a human being. The sludgy riffs succinctly manifest this sordid tale, the musical equivalent of becoming more and more seduced by the bottle’s solution to the problems it caused.
A plethora of sounds span Violence as it draws listeners into its localized brutality. Unwound and Drive Like Jehu influences come into play on “Lecture,” bassist Chris Clegg’s menacing notes coaxing a nervy Henderson into a spectacular explosion. Elsewhere, “I bore you now bear for me,” suggests The Tallest Man on Earth and fellow Canadians The Rural Alberta Advantage in its measured banjo, carefully emitting hopeful feelings while knowing better they cannot be counted on.
Violence is an album hellbent on forcing the listener to confront the daily dehumanization that people both go through and put themselves through. It’s a shot of sobering honesty, a shot of sneering rage that demands you engage with its modus operandi lest you succumb to complacency. It is both a distinctly Canadian record and a universal one: its themes could equally resonate in Little Rock or Marseille or São Paulo. But more than that, it goes hard as shit, and that’s a success in and of itself.
