Hi. I apologize again for the erratic nature of these blogs lately, by December a newer schedule should be worked out and we can back to real business. For now, send shit to [ fosterhildingmusic@gmail.com ] or DM me on Instagram.
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| photos courtesy of Chat Pile. |
I won't shy away from the fact that I believe Chat Pile is probably the single most influential, innovative active metal bands. They're filled with a nihilistic sway ripped from cinema niches and a growing hate for the endlessness of a machine world, a fittingly industrial society's forever darkening tunnel. Ironically, though, the very existence of Chat Pile disproves stagnation, at least in these hermit holes of musical culture we are so drawn to.
It seems like God's Country would be an un-followup-able debut for any other band, and Chat Pile is incredibly aware of this. They strive not to dig deeper the trenches of despair they had already begun, but rather aim elsewhere with the same soul and spirit. Cool World is liquid poison, flesh with textured tissue and scabbed, rotting skin. Underneath it all, it's still "fuck you" heavy.
I Am Dog Now was my least favorite single from the record, but has grown to be one my favorite moments from the entire album. Settling users into a blissful oasis of ambience and disembodied voices, listeners are wholly unprepared for what is to come. Stin and Luther come barreling through the wind with shotgun-blast riffs heavy as a gorilla. There is a constant pulse, an unrelenting pounding underneath Raygun's mantra-like vocals, "I am dog now." I have to add here that the production on this album, while unexpectedly light and roomy compared to God's Country, is ridiculously good--heavy, rhythm-focused, and almost poppy. These guitars and basses don't feel like strings, but punches. You feel them in your head. The last breakdown before Luther's chaos solo is fucked in the most perfect way.
Shame begins in jolty twang, Ron's two-step tom dance giving way to a surprisingly melodic piece of driftwood between meat-logged chugs and poundings. Raygun's vocal performance on this song is gutting and entirely new for him, chanting rhythm and betrayed hopes into a stumbling breakdown full of dog-growl lows and screaming highs all layered together to imitate the innocent in their final moments. It explores the exacerbated shame in being part of a nation that manipulates lives and wars to atrocious ends. It's a shame unshared by the nation itself underneath a silent god.
Frownland and the next track both share names with films, which I am assuming is Raygun's own touch of cinephile flavor. Thumping with gluttonous, bodied crumbling, it's a sewage song spawned of the deepest tones. Ron's machine hands on the drums add so much motion to this song, forever propelling it forward beneath Luther's industrial guitar squeaks and hooks--of which there are so many more on this album, each almost mathcore-inspired and layered like foaming stab wounds from pop hell. Ron's e-kit works incredible wonders on this album, granting larger-than-possible timbre to every cymbal and simulated kick hit.
Funny Man was my favorite on the album before it released, having heard it live a year prior. It's funky, awkward, almost dancey, yet complete with the larger than life, undeniably hopeless hooks of Chat Pile style. Stin's bass is constantly moving in this song, switching between the chugging movements of their cavernous breakdowns and pop funk verses.
Camcorder is easily my favorite track from this record (now that it's out). Built on primal hooks and unafraid to nail them harder with each pass, its new territory for Chat Pile. Luther's guitar in the pre-choruses feels like a psychedelic nightmare only amplified by every hammering pass, made stronger by those three heavy full band hits that begin each phrase. "Let's watch it again" is some of the most evil lyricism I've heard in a while, and Raygun's delivery suits them perfectly. Somehow, all of Chat Pile have become masters of making beautiful textures hateful, Luther's screeching playground of guitar experiments my favorite example of this. I probably listened to this song upwards of thirty times in the span of two days.
Tape's guitar sounds like GameCube-chorus masturbation turned impossibly heavy. While in many moments the band feels as if they've pulled back a bit, they do so only to give themselves room for more complex and textured arrangements, patient exploration of Raygun's preacher chants, and eager experimentation into space and layered psychedelia. During the song's second half, they all come together for these poundings of open-wound punches.
The New World sneaks under your skin as one of the most powerful tracks on this record. Pamela-esque in its beginning, yet melting into a driving force, its made whole by Raygun's rebellious ranting against the order of a world in which we are all a part of, whether we want to be or not. The post-chorus is dizzyingly heavy and painful. It forces us to come to terms with our inability to both capture the living world and change it--it goes on, not without us, but by forcing us to be its harbingers. If I'm right, I think that idea's dug very deep into the of the ethos of this album.
Masc critiques contemporary masculinity and, of course, fulfills the Chat Pile necessity for a mask song title (this being the third of such instances, even if its a homophone). "Don't tell your friends I trust and bleed" is painfully real for men that feel a need to uphold the patriarchal demand for stoicism. Regardless, that fucking, "Cut me open" outro hits like a truck its so heavy.
Milk of Human Kindness slows pace before the album's closer. It also counteracts the furious momentum that has been building until now, but still returns in vengefully heavy post-choruses. The bells are a surprising addition to the song's texture, giving it an almost a fairytale-like atmosphere in its final moments.
No Way Out is a summary, an, "I told you so" to finish this introduction to our cool new world. Luther's descending hellscape guitars scratch these prophetic chalkboards like yearning hands hoping both to crawl out or hold onto the past. But, of course, there is no way out. It's the only way to end a story that was doomed as it began: nihilistic slavery to an unforgiving future.
Distilled down to ear-grabbing hooks and the essentials in experimental ear-candy, Cool World is easily the most interesting metal album of recent years. While it strays from disjointed specificity, it concentrates on concept and feeling, a painting of hopelessness designed for pain without reason. Although, the painting itself is not without purpose. It tells us not to look away, to be aware, to rebel, to be conscious and educated.
9.5/10
Stream Cool World.
-Foster
Continuing Tableside Magazine's interview series on YouTube, check out their newest video on Kari Lake's rally (In my opinion, some great nonpartisan coverage by great, independent journalists).
See Chat Pile on tour this November.
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