Review Summary: dark and chaotic emoviolence
drive your plow over the bones of the dead is a three piece band from Vancouver, B.C. that plays raw and chaotic screamo with roots firmly planted in fast hardcore. It's emoviolence to a T—a maelstrom of octave chords, fretboard mashing and frantic yelps—and it's done exceptionally well. Their debut album
tragedy as catharsis is a collection of claustrophobic gasps and linear structures forging pathways through a world enshrouded by darkness. One could easily get lost in the chaos if they don’t pay attention to the faint glimmers of melody or dissonant arpeggios that light the way, almost as if the band is extending an olive branch through a thicket of thorns after beating you senseless. My favourite example of this has to be the slow melodic build which follows a series of caustic blasts in "malediction", or the lingering sorrow which descends upon the closing track “baleful solitude” before the band self-immolates in a final attempt to shake themselves free of life’s cyclical violence. There are a plethora of little moments over the record’s brief 18 minute run-time which will make your ears perk up, and the live-off-the-floor production does a great job at delivering these moments with a sense of clarity that is highly impressive considering how fast these songs are. drive your plow over the bones of the dead have mastered the art of cramming as much action as possible into ninety seconds or less without losing any sense of meaningful progress (cuts like “suzerain” and "arrangement" exemplify this brilliantly, where each gnashing riff feels like a foothold in the crag), and the multi vocal approach is just the cherry on top to further compound the suffocation.
tragedy as catharsis is bleak, no doubt, but it burns like a pyre fueled by our collective angst, and ignites into a beacon of hope for the alone. This record is about as true to its roots as you can get, so don’t pass this up if you’re a fan of bands like Orchid and Jeromes Dream, you will not be disappointed.
