Recent heavy-hitter Violence by Truck Violence rips all the bandages off the skin of country living, exposing the raw, gritty wounds underneath. Released July 5th on independent label Mothland, Violence is the Montreal band’s debut record.

From backwoods to big city, guitarist-banjoist Paul Lecours and singer-poet Karsyn Henderson moved to Montreal by way of Alberta in 2021. Joined now by Chris Clegg on bass and Ryley Klima on percussion, Truck Violence’s dark griefcore folk is embracing the more dire side of quaint, oft-romanticized backcountry life, tackling the realities of addiction and dysfunction that creep into the cracks of remote Western Canada.

Lecours and Henderson are all experimental, all the time. Previously releasing a seriously twisted, probing electronic hardcore rap artpiece under the moniker No Cru5t (Hinterlands, 2023), these two know how to serve up gallant gloom on a platter. For this project, Lecours wraps banjo-tinged licks into an infernal hardcore burrito, swapping out experimental electro-beats for a dash of dulcet, melancholic folk.

But this album isn’t dark for the sole sake of darkness. “The album should inspire hope, just as much as it creates a sense of shame,” Henderson notes. Violence isn’t senseless. Deep inside those agonizing screams, sweet pangs of healing can be heard. “Through this project, we’ve recognized many shameful things in ourselves. These have been let go with much kicking into the music and the art, itself. This isn’t about accepting our faults, the way we hurt the people we care about, there is far more beauty in an honest bettering.” Henderson’s lyrics stretch out a hand to the community, hoping not only to be heard, but to grasp palms; binding together in solidarity.

Underneath rattling blast beats, driving dissonant riffs, and dirty poetic shouts, the band’s opening track video, “Undressed you layn’t before” showcases this violent unity very literally. Shot on a fisheye camcorder—a possible homage to skate culture and a definite nod to DIY punk—the video exhibits a crowd egging on two humans slamming boxing mitt fists against each other. Under the nose of their charming, shit-eating grins reads the yellow lyric subtitle: “Tell me I’m good enough.” As the band begs to be part of something, to be interesting, to be written about—Henderson utters in anguish: “Ultimately, that’s my goal / to be written about”— bloody-toothed smiles shine on the faces of hugging friends.

Fundamentally, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Facing that human desire to feel “good enough” in a distorted dystopia does require a little bit of a fight. Being honest in this day and age requires a fine-tuned focus on the fissure of our fucked up reality. Truck Violence utilizes the sound of Violence to dig into their upbringing, fleshing out rural Canadian roots, but ultimately beckoning broader solidarity. Violence is not about violence. It’s about honesty and healing. It’s about family, be that blood-binding or chosen. It’s about community. And if I can be part of that greater reach, Truck Violence, here I am: writing about you.

VIOLENCE

Released July 5th, 2024 on Mothland