Between Darkness and Light / TRAITRS

In conversation with the Toronto based post-punk band.

TRAITRS, a band deeply rooted in the darkwave and post-punk revival, explores themes of loss, alienation, and resilience through their music, drawing inspiration from minimalist composition, cinematic aesthetics, and personal introspection. In this interview, members Nolan and Tucker reflect on the resurgence of their genre, the challenges of being outsiders in Toronto’s music scene, and their evolving creative process. They discuss the emotional weight behind their lyrics, the balance between minimalism and intricacy in their sound, and the significance of their album Horses in the Abattoir. With a growing global audience,  TRAITRS continues to push artistic boundaries, blending nostalgia with modern sensibilities while navigating the ever-changing landscape of music and technology.

Your music carries the unmistakable echoes of dark-wave and post-punk. Do you think these genres are often misunderstood or under appreciated in today’s music landscape?

NOLAN: That’s hard to answer. I do think this style of music is more popular now than it has been in decades and the scene is flourishing in a lot of ways. The Cure’s new record hit number 1, all these bands like Twin Tribes, She Past Away, Lebanon Hannover, Actors, French Police, Haunt Me, countless countless others touring, selling out places, playing huge festivals across the world. It gives me a shred of hope for smaller bands in the future. It tells me there’s not just an audience for post-punk/coldwave/whatever you call it music, but it’s having a bit of a renaissance in the underground. That being said, is it under-appreciated? Our media consumption is so fragmented compared to previous generations. When you trade monocultures for billions of self-contained algorithmic bubbles, it’s difficult for me to say what today’s musical landscape even is. When I read discussions of AI in the media, it makes me think art is not just under-appreciated, but completely misunderstood and seen as totally disposable by a lot of society.

TUCKER: I’m not so much losing sleep over genres in 2025 as I am reorganizing my cupboards in the pantry over long weekends, but I do think the genres (darkwave and post-punk) are a bit misleading if you’re getting specific. It seems everything is swimming in the same pissy pool now, which makes sense as it’s not 1979 (‘The Weeknd’ on a Post-Punk playlist on Spotify does scratch the bone a little). Gens whatever seem to throw it all under the goth banner and not care so much for labeling genres or understanding them. The sound I know, has evolved and it’s completely normal to change, but somehow I feel I am being cheated out of the origins of what that scene was originally about. My roots to the scene are very hardwired that way. I gotta say though, it seems like forever since younger audience’s are expressing themselves again through the goth/post-punk music scene like they are now. It’s always been an outlet to be an individual through art, music, even politically. That gives me hope, but I care very little about the small things in life.

Toronto’s music scene has a history of fostering creativity but isn’t typically associated with darkwave and post-punk. How has the city influenced your music, and do you feel like outsiders in your own hometown?

NOLAN: I was actually just talking to a local bookkeeper in Toronto about the Toronto punk scene starting in the late 70s with the Viletones, The Diodes, Teenage Head, then Bunchof*ckinggoofs in the 80s, that’s what comes to mind when I think of Toronto’s musical history. You’re correct that as far as darkwave bands go, historically there haven’t been too many coming out of Toronto. We had tons of retro, goth, synth and minimal synth events in the late 90s and early 2000s, but no bands to speak of that I’m aware of. TRAITRS came from a thriving local indie scene in Toronto’s west end in the mid-2010s. A small group of diy labels like Pleasence Records, Hand Drawn Dracula, Buzz Records and Telephone Explosion (to name a few) gave outsider artists a platform to explore a wider range of non-mainstream sounds from weirdo art-pop, shoegaze, dream pop, punk, hardcore, techno and in our case, wave and post-punk. The thing was we never fit on any bills back then and experienced a lot of difficulty touring in our home country. We learned to create our own opportunities and do everything ourselves with likeminded driven people. It took time but we found audience eventually, it just so happened Europe caught on before Canada and the rest of North America.

TUCKER: Post-Punk has always been dead in Toronto, though every 41st person is wearing a shirt from the late Mancunian band Joy Division. It’s fuel is the mainstream anything and everything, but 1980’s Toronto did have a thriving New Wave/Goth/industrial scene exporting many artists internationally (Blue Peter, Skinny Puppy and Spoons) with the support of the beloved Much Music. Today, I very much accept we are the outsiders in our hometown. Everything creatively I know is within myself. It’s just a place I live. When the snow falls I write, so maybe it’s inspired me more than I think.

Post-punk has always thrived on reinterpreting pain and melancholy into something profoundly beautiful. How do you personally process darker emotions through your creative work?

TUCKER: “But behind sorrow there is always sorrow. Pain, unlike pleasure, wears no mask. … For this reason there is no truth comparable to sorrow. There are times when sorrow seems to me to be the only truth.” Oscar Wilde

Life, sadness, death, love and time. It’s all so frustratingly fragile. At an early age I was drawn to films, photography, music, art that provoked something in me. I was a boy wearing Hatful of Hollow and Holiday in Cambodia t-shirt like a coat hanger model. Morrissey pushed lyrical sadness beautifully and conveyed it to the world. Ian Curtis’s balance of life and death displayed fragility and strength. The tortured brilliance of truth. If I don’t feel it, I’m not interested and the audience won’t feel it either. I’m a complete realist. We exist everyday pushing away the inevitable..how it will it end for you, me, loved ones, will the sun shine or will it rain? That’s the forever question. Morality is beautifully morbid.

NOLAN: I read a lot, write a lot, playing music helps me focus my attention on somewhere else. The late-great David Lynch says you don’t have to be suffering to convey suffering. It’s important to understand the dark side of reality, know it’s there, but not let it consume and destroy you. The latter part is tricky.

Your albums often feel like journeys through loss, alienation, and redemption. Do you approach each record with a clear thematic vision, or do those ideas evolve organically as you write?

TUCKER: For me I would describe it as searching for a clear view in a snowstorm. Never ever have I written a concept album but they seem to almost form like that and come back full circle. I have themes or moods I need to explore then share with this sick bruised world. I am very visual so I interpret it initially through album artwork, album title or simply song titles. I’m collecting lyrics consistently. I sometimes feel I’m collecting hurt and humanity’s heartache but it helps shape the world I need to create. The only frustration I have is constantly chasing some strange childhood feeling of how the rain felt or the skies looked and getting others to feel it or see it too. The itch that can’t be scratched. I have this need to direct the mood like a storm chaser. All of the vocal melodies are written organically but the music is always written before this process. I pitched the idea to Nolan about releasing the next record as an EP of only slow sad songs following ‘Horses in the Abattoir’. Collectively we decided to switch the EP into an LP which is in its early mixing state.

NOLAN: Musically, thematically, lyrically, we leave room for change, room to try things on a whim, our albums take many different shapes while they’re written. That’s been a part of our process since the very beginning.

The balance between minimalism and intricacy is striking in yourmusic. Do you find more power in what you leave unsaid—or, in this case, unplayed?

NOLAN: A lot of my personal musical influences on the last record came from minimalist composer Phillip Glass actually. I listen to all kinds of music, including experimental composers like William Basinski, jazz artists like Alice Coltrane, Joe Henderson and Sun Ra, krautrock bands like Can, This Heat, Faust, Broadcast is another huge influence. The commonality I find with all these different artists is the use of minimalism, space and repetition. Some of our best songs came from simple drum and synth loops, guitar layers, minimal piano pieces, atmospheric and atonal layers. Sounds and simplicity provoke us and change our ideas. When you put yourself in different musical headspace, we find it enriches the ideas we come up with in our home studios and when it comes time to record.

The title of your album Horses in the Abattoir is both visceral and poetic. Can you walk us through its significance and how it frames the album’s themes?

NOLAN: The album title was inspired by Meat Is Murder by The Smiths, a hugely inspirational album for both of us. The idea of existence itself being disposable fodder fed into a meat grinder to satiate our corporate theocratic overlords. Destroying everything beautiful for the sake of money and consumption. Over-consumption. The frailty of life, nature and the human experience.

TUCKER: It’s our Meat is Murder. I’m a strong believer of animal welfare and rights. The title blatantly confesses to what happens to horses/animals behind the scenes and yet stretches beyond that metaphorically on a full world scale. It’s what we as humans hide behind our gods and corporations. I just don’t know how many people right now are out there murdering, skinning, frying up their family, cat or dog and serving it up to your children for family day dinner?

Many post-punk and dark-wave artists draw heavily from cinematic influences. Are there specific films, directors, or visual aesthetics that inspire your creative process or the atmosphere of your work?

TUCKER: Currently I’ve been pretty inspired by works by Andrei Tarkovsky, Gaspar Noe, Brandon Cronenberg, Alain Delon, Martin Parr, Nick Hedges, Shelagh Delaney, Frantisek Vlácil, Andrzej Zulawski, François Truffaut, David Lynch, Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury, Osgood Perkins, Jiří Menzel, Jan Němec, Evald Schorm, My Wife, Tenement Housing, Věra Chytilová, Jean Renoir, Jack the Ripper, Jaromil Jireš, Jean-Luc Godard, Anthony Perkins, Stanley Kubrick, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Steven Patrick Morrissey, Albert Finney, all the rainy days when I lived in London and crying alone. Arthouse/Horror/French Extremity/Foreign New Wave/Giallo/Noir.

NOLAN: I’ve been reading several volumes of poetry by experimental Toronto poet bpNichol, including his concrete poetry which is like visual art using words. Bill Bissett too, another great local experimental poet and visual artist. I also have to mention David Lynch given his recent passing. Like many other artists across genres and disciplines, David Lynch’s influence and genius speaks for itself. The world lost an incredible mind and artist. I’ll never forget seeing Eraserhead and Lost Highway for the first time.

Technology has reshaped the way music is produced and consumed. How has modern technology influenced your creative process, especially in terms of production or instrumentation? How important is the physical medium still to your connection with fans?

NOLAN: We exist in the in-between of being a live band and bedroom producers; we do a lot of work in DAWs but we also love playing guitars, synths, guitar pedals, real hardware, learning how these machines work and how to make them sound like what we’re trying to evoke. Technology certainly makes it easier to record ideas and develop them, but in our experiences, an over-reliance on technology fosters a sterile and humanless environment to create in. We like playing. Mistakes, dissonance, rawness, this is as important to our sound as the motorik drum machine beat locking us permanently to an unchanging grid. It’s a challenge to make electronic music feel alive, find the humanity in the machinery, but it’s a fun puzzle to return to. As far as physical media is concerned, while it pales in comparison to the numbers of streams we receive each month, people love purchasing our records at shows and enjoy the hard work we put into the art design and production. Part of the fun of travelling the world is visiting local record shops, seeing the curation, feeling and smelling the records, reading the liner notes, for us it connects us to the way we fell in love with music as kids. People can listen to us however they choose, but it’s nice when people tell us how much they appreciate the effort that goes into our physical media. “Thin Flesh” has struck a chord with audiences globally, yet its lyrics feel deeply introspective and personal. Was this track born from a specific moment in your life, or does it reflect something more universal about vulnerability and connection?

TUCKER: There’s been a lot of misinterpretation about the lyrics of Thin Flesh. I can think of only a few people in the world that know what it’s really about and should the truth of its meaning be left unsaid? Some things are best left unsaid. It’s like finding out your father was the most notorious child killer in your town.

Why do you think this song resonates so strongly with listeners? (Since it’s one of your most-streamed tracks on Spotify)

TUCKER: Maybe it’s helped others cope with daily struggles of mundane life, dance alone in their rooms, memories of a first kiss, watched a love one die, give confidence for all those that hurt them to do something or possibly just the best song to wait for a bus that never comes.

NOLAN: My high school music teacher taught me that timeless songs should be adaptable enough that they can be played on a piano, or by a 50 piece orchestra. “Thin Flesh” is a simple song that came together very naturally and I think sometimes those are the ones that resonate with listeners the most. We didn’t overthink it, it never went through drastic changes after we wrote it and rehearsed it a few times. Magdalene was like that too. Sometimes the best ideas, the ones that resonate, are the simplest.

Do you notice regional differences in how dark-wave and post-punk are celebrated or understood? Are there  places where your music seems to connect on a deeper level with audiences?

TUCKER: Europe, Mexico and South America seem to have deep rooted connections to darker music. It’s in their souls. As of late, the scene in America has been growing like crazy as well. It’s quite mind-blowing to watch the rapid growth of our audiences. I do feel oh so blessed.

NOLAN: We’ve had really passionate audiences in São Paolo, Mexico City, Manchester, Cologne, Paris. Sofia, Bulgaria was great last year. Super nice, passionate crowds.

Dark-wave and post-punk have undergone significant shifts over the decades. How do you see your music fitting into this ongoing evolution, and what do you aim to contribute to the legacy of these genres?

NOLAN: It’s hard for us to say really, being in the band y’know. I’m really proud when people compare us to Skinny Puppy in the sense we’re weird, Canadian underground bands people play a lot at dance parties all over the world. That’s surreal. For us, it’s less about genres and more about living off of art, community, connection and creating art authentically. We have personal goals, band goals, touring goals, we want to evolve as players and writers, it never ends.

TUCKER: I think we mix the balance of old and new perfectly within this pocket of current artists today. It’s new, it’s old, it’s fashionable again. As of late, we’ve come to realize our personal goals are quite aggressive. What’s an interesting concept is if this scene keeps growing and starts leaning more into the mainstream, what then? We were quite naive when we started, I’d like to think we know where we’re going. I’ve completely come to terms with our past contemporaries at some point no longer being active. It’s something that’s coming for everyone. We will soon be the ones to continue to shovel the snow.

With artificial intelligence becoming more prominent in music creation, do you view it as a threat, a tool, or perhaps something entirely different for artists in your sphere?

TUCKER: In late 2024, the UK government proposed changing copyright law to allow artificial intelligence companies to build their products using other people’s copyrighted work – music, artworks, text, and more – without a licence. You tell me.

NOLAN: Workers should be paid more. Artists should be paid more. Musicians should be paid more. Writers should be paid more. Touring musicians should be paid more. Technicians should be paid more. Everyone except billionaires should be paid more. META illegally torrented over 80 tbs of data to train their AI. If the oligarchs have their way, AI is coming for your firstborn. AI should be only used as a tool to make life easier for regular people, but likely it will be absorbed into the war machine like most new technologies. Given the speculative nature of AI at this point in time, I am waiting to see how everything plays out. If it lasts, its use in art seems inevitable to me and if so, realistically, AI-created art will assimilate into society and people will pick and choose between what they prefer.

Looking ahead, where do you see dark-wave and post-punk heading in the next decade? Are there any emerging trends within the genre that excite you—or perhaps ones that concern you?

TUCKER: In order to wake up breathing everyday I stopped looking ahead. Not much excites me anymore as my heart is full. My only concern is there’s simple not enough time so enjoy the spoils of your life.

NOLAN: As Shawn alluded to earlier in the interview, if the music becomes too mainstream, too repetitive, too stagnant, too much of a good thing, that never works out historically. All scenes and styles get stale eventually so you need new voices to correspond with the past and keep it fresh. And I think it’s the artist’s responsibility to freshen their own ideas up too. Resist the urge to get high on your own supply.

Are there any new sonic territories or concepts you’re eager to explore? What’s next for TRAITRS as you continue to evolve?

TUCKER: Yes, we have discussed exploring some new territories sonically. I would be interested to do a more ‘electronica’ based album but have two records in the tank written before we hit those waters. Nolan is working hard  on a book of poetry and I will be releasing a photography project some time in the distant future, so things are on the horizon. We never stop working but I know Nolan is down to mix stuff up a bit. So yeah, sure why not?

NOLAN: If there’s a world left in a few months, we will be filling it with lots of weirdness. Stay tuned…

Between Darkness and Light / A chat with TRAITRS

Band: TRAITRS / @traitrsofficial
Interview: Jessy Frascarelli / @j3ssyestremy
Editor: Anca Macavei / @ancamacavei

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