Tag: The Flenser

Video by William Ruben Helms

New Video: Truck Violence Shares Urgent and Bruising “New Jesus”

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.

Single Review by William Ruben Helms

New Audio: Kathryn Mohr Shares Brooding PJ Harvey-like “Doorway”

Oakland-based artist Kathryn Mohr creates music that exists in a liminal space of auditory dissociation. Drawing inspiration from lost items washing up on the shores of San Francisco Bay, Mohr’s work thematically touches upon the ephemeral nature of humanity, the warping of memory and how one’s trauma changes one’s experience of the world.

Mohr’s sophomore album Carve is slated for an April 17, 2026 release through The Flenser. The album was written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a single wide in the Mojave Desert. The Oakland-based artist explains that her sophomore album explores how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes.

The album’s material is shaped by her first return to the Southwest since a childhood road trip when she was five — and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds deep emotional weight, long after its origins faded. Thematically Carve considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence and feeling than mere survival.

Some of the album’s songs were written much earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. During a four year period, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and trauma, and their long-term impact on her ability to connect with others. While the work was slow and difficult, it involved a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the outside world.

Mohr explains that the album took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. She pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave Desert on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working along with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder and limited supplies.

Following that period, she began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent working on Carve didn’t create isolation, as much as mirror it. Working alone, out of an old, western-themed jail AirBnB, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the album had been written — distance, restraint and long stretches of stillness. For the Oakland-based artist, love wasn’t experienced as an escape or as a respite, but something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss. The tension felt between connection and inevitability sits at the core of the album’s material.

Carve‘s third and latest single “Doorway” is a remarkably PJ Harvey-like tune that sees Mohr’s accompanying her crooned, stream-of-consciousness-like lyrics with buzzing and chiming guitar. The result is a song that captures the inner world and thoughts of its narrator with a woozy, uneasy and desperate precision that feels deeply lived-in.

“Doorway” was written in a Mojave Desert single wide, and as Mohr says, the song “…wrote itself really. The riffs came to me one after another and the lyrics were originally a stream of consciousness and me randomly reading from my notebook.”

Video by William Ruben Helms

New Video: Faetooth Shares Forceful and Stormy “Hole”

Led by Jenna Garcia (vocals, bass), Los Angeles-based outfit Faetooth specializes in a sound that they’ve dubbed “fairy-doom:” a unique and eclectic amalgamation of doom metal paired with vocals that alternate between spellbinding melodies to guttural shrieks and howls. 

Last month, the Los Angeles-based outfit announced their highly-anticipated sophomore album Labyrinthine will be slated for a September 5 release digitally through AWAL and on vinyl and CD by The Flenser. Labyrinthine will reportedly see the band further establishing their “fairy-doom” sound while embracing a newly softened, more intimate tone, anchored around emotional rawness.

Throughout the album, the material touches upon themes of loss, self-pity, personal relationships and more. The inmate balance doesn’t dilute their intensity; rather it reframes it, offering listeners a haunting yet delicate atmosphere, layered with entrancing textures that build up to explosive catharsis. The result is an album that’s a hauntingly visceral and disturbing vision, anchored by deep introspection. 

Labyrinthine will feature the previously released, “Death of Day” which to my ears channeled the likes of Tool and JOVM mainstays Slumbering Sun, and “White Noise,” a bruising ripper rooted in a palpable and unsettling mix of anguish, despair, loathing and fury that feels both lived in and deeply familiar. 

“Hole,” the album’s latest single is a slow-burning and meditative doom metal dirge that slowly builds up into a bruising and stormy intensity, fueled by a lived in urgency and desperation to get away from a seemingly fucked up past and fucked up cycles of dysfunction, abuse, etc. And much like the previously released singles, “Hole” does so with an innately empathetic sensibility that says to the listener “I’ve been there. You aren’t alone.”

 

“’Hole’ is a meditation on the choice of confronting the past, or burying it,” the band’s Jenna Garcia explains. “Sobering, waking, realizations of cycles find themselves bared, culminating in an invocation-like verse that declares severance to all ties to a creeping past.”

Directed by Joe Mischo, the cinematically shot visual for “Hole” follows a a woman frantically running through a wooded countryside that includes madness, regret, possession and witches.

Single Review by William Ruben Helms

New Audio: Faetooth Returns with Bruising “White Noise”

Led by Jenna Garcia (vocals, bass), Los Angeles-based outfit Faetooth specializes in a sound that they’ve dubbed “fairy-doom:” a unique and eclectic amalgamation of doom metal paired with vocals that alternate between spellbinding melodies to guttural shrieks and howls. 

Right as last week closed out, the Los Angeles-based outfit announced that their highly-anticipated sophomore album Labyrinthine will be slated for a September 5 release digitally through AWAL and on vinyl and CD by Flenser. The sophomore album will reportedly see the band further establishing their “fairy-doom” sound while embracing a newly softened, more intimate tone, anchored around emotional rawness. Throughout the album, the material touches upon themes of loss, self-pity, personal relationships and more. The inmate balance doesn’t dilute their intensity; rather it reframes it, offering listeners a haunting yet delicate atmosphere, layered with entrancing textures that build up to explosive catharsis. The result is an album that’s a hauntingly visceral and disturbing vision, anchored by deep introspection.

Labyrinthine will feature the previously released, “Death of Day,” a slow-burning and forceful dirge anchored a classic grunge song structure that features swirling shoegazer-like guitar textures, thunderous drumming, enormous power chords and eerie, banshee-like wailing paired with Garcia’s sonorous croon.

While channeling the likes of Tool, JOVM mainstays Slumbering Sun and others, “Death of Day” the song as the band’s Jenna Garcia explains “came to be after reading into the deity, Lilith. I was initially transfixed to the myth of her spawning from the ‘dregs,’ or lowest realm of evil. I perceived that as her coming from the dirt, the earth, and having to confront a life where her very existence is viewed as malevolence, as ugliness. She is cast out into isolation from the moment she came into being. I began to view that as a strong parallel to the existence of queer and trans people in a world that is constantly trying to exterminate and diminish them.”

Faetooth’s frontperson adds that the song’s lyrics “are written as a bit of ode to the Lilith archetype, and simultaneously celebrating and lamenting her forced seclusion from society. The first verse is about her coming into being, how she can only come out at night, and then the second verse is like, yeah, you all hate me, I’m gonna bring all my friends that you also deem as a scourge on society, f*** you.”

The album’s latest single “White Noise” is a bruising ripper, rooted in a palpable and unsettling mix of anguish, despair, loathing and fury that feels both lived in and deeply familiar. The band explains that the song emerged from a diary entry and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, when we don’t quite know why and even when we don’t immediately realize that we’re reaching out for it. And as a result, the song is an emotional upheaval, carrying the sort of harsh and uneasy truths that weigh heavily on one’s heart and soul.

The band’s guitarist Ari May says, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”