Torche are not a band meant for the large wholesale market, nor are they meant for any of the myriads that spin immediately off from it. Instead, Torche are the type of traditionally primal metal band that fester in the lower profiled crevasses of a society largely equipped with short attention spans and fixated with quick fixes. Tonight in a tightly packed venue, the shorn-haired, workman-like American trio roll out a set that is simple in its core design and has very little added identifiable frills that separate one song from another.
Primitive and unglamorous in its essence, the one hour set is a doom edged heavy riff-a-thon that smashes into the loud clattering made by a fiercely driven, tightly played metal rhythm section and straight talking, snapped vocals. There are some that will summarise Torche as being the type of band bred for longhaired head-banging numbskulls to positively enjoy; others will flash mocking devil horn hand signals and brand them as an alternative to cheesy retro-fuelled metal or emo weaned whingers. Yet this committed trio stand as an example of dedication for all those that say metal is a tired genre well past its sell by date.
By Nathan Westley
Originally published in issue 24 (vol 3) of Loud And Quiet. December 2010