Acclaimed and rising Montréal-based experimental act Truck Violence — founding duo Karysn Henderson (vocals) and Paul Lecours (guitar, banjo, production), along with Chris Clegg (bass, banjo) and Thomas Hart (drums and slide guitar) — can trace their origins back to its founding duo’s childhood: Henderson and Lecours grew up in a small, French Canadian town of 600 people, graduating in a class of nine. By the time they both turned 15, they were running a local studio and radio station. There was no industry support, no infrastructure, no template for what they were trying to do, only the work itself — and the conviction that it was worth doing.

When the pair turned 17, they relocated to Montréal, where they met Chris Clegg and Thomas Hart, who hail from different corners of the country and began building their band from the ground up.

The Canadian quartet’s highly anticipated sophomore album, The weathervane is my body is slated for a June 26, 2026 release through San Francisco-based label The Flenser and Montréal-based Mothland. Their sophomore album is reportedly a product of the process of building the band from the ground up. The album’s creative and writing process, the recording, the mixing and visuals were all produced employing a fiercely DIY process. This isn’t done as an aesthetic choice or a marketing angel, it’s because for the band, it’s the only honest option album.

The album’s cover art was shot on film by the band on Montréal’s Avenue du Parc. A figure perches atop a small Québécois-style house, hand built from reclaimed materials, spine curved, legs pulled in, bare-backed against a skyline that dwarfs everything beneath it. A rural thing dropped into the grit of a big city, small and out of place yet refusing to disappear. The body is naked and defenseless, open to the environment and every stimuli the world can deliver upon it.

Thematically, the album is a continuation and expansion of the angry statement of purpose of their debut, 2024’s Violence. Rooted in noise rock and post-hardcore traditions, the album is uncompromising in its refusal to be anything other than what is: immediate, self-determined and built entirely by the hands that imagined it.

The weathervane is my body‘s latest single “New Jesus” is a bruising and furious howl of desperation and disgust that’s urgent and is meant to shake the listener out of the doldrums of apathy and indifference.

“New Jesus” is a rant about the blatant fascistic slide occurring both to the south of our border and on screen. It is loosely about the ABC—Trump settlement and the post-January 6th election fraud cases,” Truck Violence’s Karsyn Henderson explains. “The lack of any broader moral compulsions beyond centralizing power on the political right has led to a culture of post-truth, where there is no reward in accuracy unless it leads to an augmenting of one’s political capital, which it rarely does. This is as destructive in politics as it is in art. There is surprising apathy among young people in regards to this slide, who believe the acquisition of power and the subsequent lording over that occurs, is merely nature, essentially; what will happen, will happen. With these lines of thinking, you find more people sympathetic to this mode, if it is both natural and inevitable, why not acclimate and reap the rewards. Why not join the fascist grift, degenerate art through tiktok, etc…”

Directed by Kirill Sommer, the accompanying video for “New Jesus” is a surrealistic fever dream that’s seemingly one-part Samuel Beckett play, one-part psilocybin trip, one-part Ingmar Bergman film.