I don’t know how Chat Pile passed me by but somehow, they did – at least until a close friend of mine, whose judgement I greatly respect, bought me a copy of Cool World on vinyl and I found myself hooked. It’s one of those happy accidents that happens from time to time, with the added bonus that I’m reminded of my friend every time I hear the band now.
Anyhow, while I may be late to the party, I have every intention of making up for lost time and so, when the new album landed on my desk, it was with no small amount of excitement that I hit play.
That excitement was justified for Who Loves the Sun, the band’s third album, is an absolute belter, bringing together all the elements that so attracted me to Cool World, and adding in a few new tricks for good measure.
The album opens with the thunderous percussion and heavy riffing of Creature. Deeply groovy and yet slightly off-kilter, it draws on a range of bands from the post-hardcore scene, with elements of Cave In, Jawbox, and Botch woven into its convoluted DNA.
And. It. Is AWESOME.
Seriously. From the first moment I heard it, I immediately felt my blood start racing through my veins and repeated listens have done nothing to dull that sense. Hell, the band could just have released this multi-faceted track, and I’d have been satisfied but, happily, there’s another nine songs to go.
Having basically turned me into a dribbling fanboy, Chat Pile immediately set about reducing my willpower further with Deep Blue, which adds Fugazi to the previously shared list of influences. Like some long-lost treasure unearthed from the era of Hydra Head Records, it’s got it all – nimble, deftly interlocking guitars; enough melody to keep the track memorable; and schizophrenic torrents of noise that tear through the speakers with electrifying power. And all of this in just four-and-a-half minutes.
Oh, that all bands were this passionate, this inventive, and this… well, cool. It makes reviewing a joy, and there’s no doubt in my mind, even two tracks in, that Who Loves The Sun will be a strong candidate for my albums of the year list.
Chat Pile aren’t done with me yet. Having dexterously mined the world of post-hardcore, they take a left step into ambient-infused alternative rock, with Same Rules emerging as a cross between Nirvana’s Pen Cap Chew and Deftones’ Battle-Axe. A downbeat, cerebral track, it provides a moment’s respite from the heavier fare that surrounds it. It’s followed by the amusingly titled Pen I S Mall, a bludgeoning track that eschews subtlety for a full-blown Botchian meltdown (did I just coin an adjective?) that stabs at the listener with unexpected fury, before devolving into a Fantomas-esque finale that claws and spits at the recoiling listener.
The band opt for something a touch more dynamic with Shrine, a stuttering alt-rock beast that just seems to get progressively heavier while the bizarre post-punk Intruder, which includes backing vocals from Brittany Sawtelle and Claire Hannah, initially sounds like Fugazi covering Nirvana before wrapping up on an ISIS trip. And, if that doesn’t have you reaching to buy the album immediately, I don’t know if I can help you further.
The band slow the pace for the doom-laden Christabel ’26, Randy Heyer exploring the fringes of his vocal range over Griffin Sansone’s increasingly inventive riffing. Rather more direct is the sludgy Influence, the riff of which threatens to undermine the very foundations of your home. Play it loud and watch the walls separate from the ceiling, as the band’s dynamic stop-start thrust nods to Helmet’s still-classic Meantime.
Even for a band who delight in sending the listener down grungy back alleys, the leaden pace of Family Funeral, with its atonal riffing, spoken word vocals, and arcs of primitive feedback, comes as something of a surprise, making you wonder if the band spent some time with Black Flag’s divisive Family Man during the recording sessions. And then, just to really mess with your mind, Chat Pile wrap things up with the quite lovely October All The Time, which sounds like they were collectively possessed by the spirit of Gira. While it, somewhat surprisingly, turns heavy for a brief moment, it’s an evocative piece that showcases a vulnerable side to the band that I’d love to see explored further on future releases.
While I can only wish that I was there from the beginning, it is nevertheless a pleasure to see the progress Chat Pile have made over the course of just three albums, with Who Loves The Sun emerging as a remarkable amalgam of grunge, sludge, post-hardcore and God knows what else. References abound, yet the band have a knack for taking them and making them their own. The result is a thrilling record that effortlessly evokes the sheer joy of going into a record shop in the mid-‘90s and picking up the latest release on Sub Pop or Hydra Head, not necessarily knowing what it might sound like and yet intuitively knowing that it will be awesome.
Who knows where Chat Pile will take us next but, for now, we have Who Loves The Sun, and that’s enough. 9/10
