Over three decades into their career, Canadian punks Propagandhi remain as razor-sharp and uncompromising as ever. Formed in Winnipeg in the late ’80s, the band started out slinging melodic skate punk with a political snarl, but have since evolved into something far more formidable. Through countless lineup shifts, they’ve only grown heavier, tighter, and more musically adventurous – without ever losing sight of their anti-fascist, anti-capitalist ethos. At Peace, their latest full-length, sees them grappling with the same broken world they’ve always written about – only now, the fury is more focused, the musicianship more refined, and the existential dread more pronounced.

The album opens with Guiding Lights, a mid-tempo slow-burner that lurches to life with chiming bells and thick guitar chugs. Todd Kowalski handles lead vocals here, and his bark carries the weight of someone who’s seen too much but still refuses to look away. It’s a strong introduction that sets the tone – darker, slower, and more deliberate than much of their earlier work. The title track follows seamlessly, with Chris Hannah on vocals, picking up thematically where Todd left off. It’s classic Propagandhi: intricate riffs, galloping rhythms, and that unmistakable undercurrent of unease.

Cat Guy is where the band flexes. A clean, grooving bassline from Kowalski anchors some of the most fluid guitar work on the record, while drummer Jord Samolesky – using lighter sticks and smaller cymbals this time out – lays down one of his most expressive performances to date. There’s an almost surgical precision to the production, with each instrument given room to breathe in the mix. It’s not just tight – it’s clinical.

Tracks like No Longer Young and Rented P.A. lean into a more restrained, mid-paced approach. And it works. By slowing down, the band gives their riffs and lyrics a chance to hit harder. Where past records like Failed States often whizzed past in a blur of technical fury, At Peace allows things to unfold — and occasionally unravel. There’s less youthful fire, more grown-up disillusionment.

That said, they haven’t gone soft. Prismatic Spray (The Tinder Date) kicks off the album’s second half with wailing sirens and dual-guitar theatrics that owe as much to Iron Maiden as they do to Dead Kennedys. Benito’s Earlier Work follows with a jagged blend of Helmet-style sludge and the band’s signature rhythmic punch. At the same time, Vampires Are Real is pure, fast, snot-nosed punk — a rare moment of levity that recalls Victory Lap-era cheekiness.

The back end of the album takes a more introspective turn. Stargazing and God of Avarice pull things into gloomier territory, all tragic synths and heavy lyrical reflection. Hannah himself admits the optimism of early Propagandhi is gone, replaced by “existential dread” and a sense of trying to “eke out a life worth living in this completely failed society.” If that sounds bleak – well, it is. But it’s also brutally honest.

Closer Something Needs To Die But Maybe It’s Not You is as good a sign-off as any, both musically and thematically. It’s steady, layered, and crushing in all the right places. There’s no posturing here, no dramatic crescendo. Just resignation, resolve, and riffs.

At Peace doesn’t try to reinvent the band – it doesn’t need to. It sharpens what’s already there. It’s their most emotionally raw, sonically complete album in years, maybe ever—a proper record by proper punks who’ve managed to grow up without losing the plot.

Releasedate: 02-05-2025 | Label: Epitaph | Instagram

Tracklist:
01. Guiding Lights
02. At Peace
03. Cat Guy
04. No Longer Young
05. Rented P.A.
06. Stargazing
07. God of Avarice
08. Prismatic Spray (The Tinder Date)
09. Benito’s Earlier Work
10. Vampires Are Real
11. Fire Season
12. Day By Day
13. Something Needs To Die But Maybe It’s Not You