In recent years, few bands have put noise rock on the map to the extent Chat Pile has. Their excellent second LP Cool World is a glorious mix of gothy riffs, nu-metal rhythms, and raw vocals that carry the torch for Albini-influenced noise into an even gnarlier new era. Right before their European tour, Post-Trash sat down over Zoom with Chat Pile to discuss horror in the digital age, the history of the Oklahoma City scene, and their new record Cool World.
Prostitute rage, screech, and tear through track after track of industrial indebted noise rock with not just ferocity but also exasperation. Each hit of the drums and slash of the guitar sounds as if it’s the band's last. Even as the album ends, the band desperately ask the listener to see the horrors before them through the raw desperation bleeding out of each note they play.
While Cowards is inspired by the grotesque literature of Haruki Murakami and Ottessa Moshfegh, it's also a clear response to a world in flames. With its charging rhythms and gorgeous melodies, it appears as the band's most impassioned work yet. A demand rather than a cry for its listeners to attempt to defeat their cowardice, and to not ignore the evil in their own lives lest they become it.
There’s no better evidence for why the band has stayed so relevant than their mind-altering new album 13" Frank Beltrame Italian Stiletto with Bison Horn Grips, an astounding slice of psychedelia-tinged noise-pop. Music is more than mere purpose to Jamie Stewart but intrinsic to their life just as it is to the listeners.
Martha Skye Murphy’s long-awaited debut is an assured one. Its eleven tracks come together like a series of paintings spread across a single room, all interlinked in proximity and style yet different enough to each be worth a repeated view. Yet together, these tracks form a remarkably curated album of decisive art pop.
“I know my shit is pure” are the first words echoed across Amiture’s second LP, Mother Engine. They pierce through the mix like a spectral echo past the driving beats and sleazy blues licks. It’s a statement of intent, the band's “shit is pure,” it’s a unique vision of trip-hop a world away from the dancey post-punk of their debut The Beach.
As eclectic and esoteric as their work might seem from an initial glance the best way to describe the mesh of shard-like guitars, rumbling drums, and gripping vocals that make up Still House Plants is direct. Their minimalist setup hides nothing from the listener. If I Don’t Make It, I Love U is an album as blunt and heartfelt as its title.
Shimmering like a mirrored ballroom Diamond Jubilee is a record of tasteful excess. Across its two-hour runtime, the album never seems to ache for the common descriptors of work of its length. This is not an album that is epic in scope, but rather a precisely and perfectly executed collection of hauntingly brilliant guitar pop.
Last year's 馬 (Uma) may seem smaller-scale with its runtime just under half an hour compared to its predecessor's near-hour, but it's in this smaller scale that Betcover!! has managed to build its tightest work yet. They’re a band that feels slightly out of time, the mix of modern techniques with old school blues at once new yet classic.
