Touché Amoré
Lament

It's been four springs since the release of "Stage Four", the (so far) latest discographic effort by Los Angeles-based Touché Amoré. An urgent, honest, and heartfelt album like the ones we've grown accustomed to from our group, but also much more.

As overwhelming as it is cathartic, "Stage Four" represented a deeply personal legacy, with the cancer death of frontman Jeremy Bolm's mother serving as the thematic framework of the album. 35 minutes total for something much more akin to an experience rather than a simple listening exercise.

Without considering, indeed without even being able to fully comprehend, the intensity of the emotional effort that good Bolm must have sweated before laying yet another stone on the path that has slightly shifted the consideration and fame (not the commercial response) of Touché Amoré.
And to that effort, the longest discographic pause in the entire career of these hardcore prodigy guys can be attributed.

Given the premises, this "Lament" is nothing but to be understood as a sequel to its predecessor: still confessional, equally cathartic, perhaps just slightly less introspective than its predecessor, thus more universal and frequently punctuated with touching moments of optimism. Less rough compared to previous works and it could not be otherwise, because if "Stage Four" was an emotional jolt in response to trauma, "Lament" feels more mature, more capable of reasoning even at a lyrical level.

While in the past durations under two minutes were common, here there's little that falls under three, allowing the tracks to build and bloom, reaching zeniths and depressions more naturally than ever. A fundamental aspect in the evolution of Touché Amoré, a red carpet rolled out to the all too palpable emotion in Bolm's lyricism, a suitable distance to pause, manifest, and let his insecurities run free.

But "Lament" is not just a visceral intensity: pieces like "Feign", "Reminders", or "I'll Be Your Host" are imbued with flavors of melodic punk, see the likes of The Movielife or Gnarwolves, broad respite parentheses opened in moments where they prove providential, perfect spots for a carefully and attentively curated production work.

"Limelight", the true center of the entire work, arrives just before the halfway point. Five minutes of tentacular guitars, layered voices, and ever-increasing intensity, once again echoes of "Stage Four", yet coming across as elegantly as befitting the guest, Andy Hull of Manchester Orchestra.

Some purists might hesitate at the thought of a polished and refined hardcore record, but this is exactly what "Lament" can be described as. Intelligent and introspective, it's an album through which we can all channel our current frustrations.

2020 has been a hellish year, the mental health of many of us has taken a hard hit like never before.
Diving headlong into this latest gift from Touché Amoré might not be for everyone, but those who give it a try can rest assured: reaching the other side of the tunnel will leave you wounded, bruised but ultimately purified.
An exercise in pure catharsis.