Finding a Through Line with Touche Amore

This column is a reprint from Unwinnable Monthly #184. If you like what you see, grab the magazine for less than ten dollars, or subscribe and get all future magazines for half price.

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Ruminations on the power of the riff.

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The cover artwork for Touche Amore’s 2009 debut album …To the Beat of a Dead Horse doesn’t exactly establish a picture of optimism. A black and white illustration of a lone bicyclist pedaling headlong into a storm under heavy dark clouds, it invokes a sense of isolation and overwhelming circumstances. It’s a bleak image that reflects the despondent yet urgent atmosphere on the record itself, which blended elements of early screamo and forward-thinking hardcore into a sonic salve for the terminally anxious.

That’s exactly what I needed when …To the Beat of a Dead Horse came out. I was going through a series of unexpected hardships that had become almost comically unrealistic. The details aren’t anything I care to revisit, but suffice it to say, it was absolutely raining down shit on this column’s writer. During a session with my university’s counseling office, I was told I’d developed a mild form of PTSD; I don’t know whether that was a reliable diagnosis, but I did spend one evening on the couch physically unable to move due to stress. So, they probably weren’t far off the mark.

As hard as those times were in the moment, I was determined not to be brought down by external circumstances, nor internal struggles. While vocalist Jeremy Bolm’s lyrics on  …To the Beat of a Dead Horse were introspective and despondent, they were never self-pitying. Rather, they were honest reflections on dark times that didn’t wallow in sadness or retreat into a toxic “positive vibes only” mindset. His performance was inspiring in the way that good hardcore vocalists tend to be, sending the message that even if you can’t fix what you’re going through, you can make the choice not to give up.

Musically, the record also took a somewhat more mature approach to the genre than some of their peers. Guitarists Clayton Stevens and Nick Steinhardt played gear more commonly associated with indie rock than with hardcore, dialing back the gain on their amps to allow the rhythm section to drive heaviness through distorted bass and frenetic percussion. The idea that you could sound heavy without the guitars overriding the mix felt like a revelation. This band was writing songs rather than just chaining riffs together, carefully edited down into compact two-minute bursts of energy that felt motivating.

The more I listened to …To the Beat of a Dead Horse, the more it became ingrained in my memories of everything else that was happening when I first discovered it for myself. As I dissected everything I could about the album, its seemingly desolate cover art revealed itself to be more optimistic than I first assumed. Even though the rider can see the storm coming, they don’t turn around. Instead, they pedal forward anyway, fully aware they’re unequipped to deal with what’s ahead. Reframing the cover in a more positive context has similarly helped me reframe my own experiences in a more positive light in retrospect. Those times helped me become who I am now, and as much as I don’t want to relive the worst times of my life, I wouldn’t choose to change them either.

It’s been a long while since I’ve listened to Touche Amore on a regular basis, but the recent release of their sixth full-length record Spiraling in a Straight Line was a good excuse to rectify that. Getting reacquainted with Touche Amore now feels like catching up with an old friend I haven’t seen in years. Their hair looks a little greyer, the bags under their eyes a little heavier. They seem to be doing well, but you can tell they’ve been through some things. You’re both older and wiser than you used to be. More than anything, you’re glad they’re still a part of your life, when others have since moved on.

From the opening track “Nobody’s,” Touche Amore carry themselves with confidence. They’re in full command of a sound they have been polishing and refining for nearly 20 years, sounding as familiar as ever, and yet without feeling like they’ve overstayed their welcome. The production is more polished than what they could likely afford when they put out …To the Beat of a Dead Horse (something they rectified by rerecording and rereleasing the album under the name Dead Horse X in 2019). This is a band that’s firing on all cylinders, comfortable in the contours of their own discomforting sound.

Hardcore bands aren’t supposed to last as long as Touche Amore. They play mostly unprofitable music that’s meant to capture the anger of youth, and those two things together form a less-than-ideal template for a lasting career. Most peers from their early days either threw in the towel years ago or are now doing anniversary and reunion tours. Yet here they are, still making music as passionate as they ever have. I thought I might have outgrown the need for this brand of aggressive music, but as the last note of Julien Baker’s guest vocal performance on album closer “Goodbye For Now” rings out, I wonder if the opposite is true. Maybe I’ve never needed this music more than I do now.

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Ben Sailer is a writer based out of Fargo, ND, where he survives the cold with his wife and dog. His writing also regularly appears in New Noise Magazine.