Oklahoma noise rock stalwarts Chat Pile arrived in Aotearoa last night for the first of two shows on their Australasian debut tour, and they left their Auckland audience wanting more.
The night began in true style with kiwi sludge metal legends Beastwars, hailing from Wellington, the members strode out and shook the room with Call to the Mountain from their 2016 album The Death of All Things.
Beastwars live by one theory in life and that is Obey the Riff; and riffs are something that Beastwars are the kings of. From the moment they began their beautifully curated set, heads were in motion caught up in the hypnotic heaviness, as Matt Hydes vocals tear open the veil of the abyss to howl inside.
Formed in 2007 they dropped their self-titled debut album in 2011 and transformed the scene while simultaneously catching the eye of bands such as Mastodon, the Melvins, Helmet and Fu Manchu to name but a few who have all had Beastwars open for them.
Having recently released their album The Ship // The Sea just last year it was great to get another taste of their latest material live, the audience gifted Rust, The Howling as well as We Don’t Say Fear.
Mihi from their debut album was embraced with enthusiasm as was Omens from IV; but all too soon their set was coming to a close, those present feeling like they had been cleansed and renewed by the wave of sound that had washed over them. An absolute masterclass and a great example of just some of the talent New Zealand has on offer.
Formed in 2019, just as the world was about to be thrown into turmoil, Chat Pile may appear to be relatively new, however they quickly made their mark. Releasing their debut album God’s Country in 2022 which followed on from two EP’s that stuck a stake in the ground and forced people to bear witness to the odorous ooze that welled up from the earth; Chat Pile are a band that bring a sense of existential dread to the room and make you question just how the world has ended up in the place that it is.
Their name itself comes from the piles of chat, a byproduct of the lead-zincing mining which is commonly found throughout Northeastern Oklahoma, and their sound replicates this in many ways, heavy, sludgy, and yet perfectly executed in the noisiest way. Each member of the band goes by a nickname (a ploy originally to evade their employers knowing they were in a band), Stin on bass and Cap’n Ron pelting the drums within an inch of their life as he drives each track to the forefront.
Face was an early showing in the set list, a song that explores paranoia and alienation from where one may seek comfort, it was soon followed by Tropical Beaches, Inc a critique on America’s toxic endless quest for wealth and power, a song that is most definitely relevant as the world watches as the USA disgustingly create its first trillionaire, while the majority of its citizens can barely afford basic food items.
Luther Manhole is the man on lead guitar, delivering chugging riffs that underwrite the vocals of Raygun Busch, a fascinating vocalist who lurches between howls and spoken word, his style reminiscent as many have pointed out of David Yow from Jesus Lizard as well as Bad Brains, The Pixies and at times Butthole Surfers.
Shirtless with at times an intense stare that burrowed into the marrow of ones bones, Busch would pepper the set with delightful conversations about New Zealand movies. Talking about cinema is something Busch is well known for, the man an obvious cinephile who had some rather interesting choices.
Speaking of our beloved Sam Neil he called Event Horizon The Shining of space; while his favourite Peter Jackson movie is The Frighteners featuring Michael J Fox, Heavenly Creatures coming a close second. Pressed about Jacksons early work such as Bad Taste, he dismissed it quickly stating he was not into ‘pus and such.’
He would not be caught out either, a fan asking about the film The Piano was met with compliments of Jane Campions work especially with An Angel at My Table. His knowledge was a joy and the banter that it ensued so refreshing from the usual statements of how much our city rocks or how we were the best audience so far on the tour.
Shame and Frownland went back to back, the latter a track about the atrocity of war, and the genocide in Palestine. At first glance Chat Pile do not come across as a political band, and maybe they don’t ever want to be known as such, but their lyricism challenges us to look at what is going on around the world, their sound echoing that despair, the disgust, the sheer brutality of what some of our fellow man are currently having to endure.
Frownland doubles down on this as the song explores “inescapable misery and severe loneliness;” we live in a world more connected then ever, and yet humans only feel more alone, more isolated. Reportedly inspired by the Japanese horror film Pulse by director Kiyoshi Kurosawa (highly recommended) Frownland’s bleakness seeps inside you with a heaviness that can be felt.
Notes on Hunt for the Wilderpeople and even a nod to a joke in TV sitcom Full House where Oakland was confused with Auckland due to the pronunciation of words led into one of the standout tracks of the night, Why? From God’s Country.
Regardless of where you come from in the world, Why? Would resonate with you as Busch unleashes the howling questions of why people have to live outside on the streets, asking those listening if they have ever had ringworm or scabies and stating that he himself couldn’t live there, pushing around a shopping cart so why the hell should others be expected to.
This song should be played on repeat, at full volume, at every cabinet meeting, in every country. Period.
As the set moved through into the later part of the evening it only grew in intensity, Chat Pile creating tendrils that curled around the crowds feet, working their way up with every riff and fevered diatribe that fell from Busch’s tongue.
The “only autobiographical song” that Chat Pile have ever written, according to Busch, made its New Zealand debut, PEN I S MALL, swiftly followed by their latest single Deep Blue exploring themes of humanity being sucked into the digital world in a desire for escapism.
Closing their set with Masc, Funny Man and Dallas Beltway and a genuine thank you to those who had attended as “never in a million years” would Chat Pile have pictured themselves in New Zealand, they left the stage but demands for an encore soon drew them back for a final goodbye with Garbage Man.
Methodical and punishing and yet expertly skilled at knowing just where to pull back or shift to ensure that your attention is held in place for the next chaotic assault, Chat Pile are a live act that is compulsory viewing. Their lyrics often from the pov of the villain, scraping back the layers to expose what lies beneath, and it ain’t pretty.
But that’s the point. None of it is. It’s flawed, the system is rigged, the rot is deep. Chat Pile creating a communal space to address it all in what is many ways a psychological release while simultaneously creating a solidarity between those who choose to question the inhumanity of it all.
Sarah Kidd
Photography by Leonie Moreland
Chat Pile
Beastwars
Discover more from Red Raven News
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.