Named for the gravel-like leftover materials from crushing and separating lead and zinc ores found in their home state of Kansas, Chat Pile‘s unsettling images are the stuff of nightmares–nocturnal and waking. Chat Pile blend metal, noise, and hardcore, with the repetitive (in a good way), relentless musical attack of bands like Big Black and early Ministry combined with more contemporary legends like Coalesce and grindcore heroes like Carcass and Napalm Death. Even Nirvana sneaks in through the scream-talk vocals.
Their debut full-length, God’s Country, was a pummeling, bleak look at the State of the Union, filled with lyrics inspired by horror movies and the horrors of contemporary American life. The signature track, “Why”, is a plain-spoken indictment of American poverty and the unwillingness to leverage existing resources to address it.
Now, Chat Pile zoom out to look at the state of the world with the same bleak intensity. Cool World refines the successes of their debut, keeping what made the first record so compelling but inching toward a more accessible sound, which is definitely relative. If you liked God’s Country, you will find much to admire about Cool World. If you like heavy music with nightmare-fuel lyrics, this is the record you have been waiting for.
Opener “I Am Dog Now” sets the tone with a massive riff that recalls Helmet and other groups from the glory days of the Amphetamine Reptile label. In the breakdown, singer Raygun Busch screams, “Remember, everyone bleeds”. It establishes Chat Pile won’t be radically altering the recipe. From there, “Shame” is one of the catchier songs musically, but the lyrics evoke war in Gaza, with images of parents holding dead children, bomb detonations, and a reminder that “all tears flow from the same source”. It is positively chilling and one of the record’s highlights, staring clear-eyed into hell.
The fallout of war, even on the victors, is a theme throughout Cool World. “Funny Man” looks at the sacrifices of those who serve in the military and the lack of support they receive when their service has ended. “Milk of Human Kindness” is a harrowing account of PTSD, anchored by the line “I knew nothing about the way they burn”. “The New World” takes on the cost of colonization and exploitation. Another highlight, “Masc”, addresses toxic masculinity, alluding to “don’t ask, don’t tell” and the cost of confiding in people, as well as masculine norms like not talking about feelings.
Chat Pile’s cinephile streak comes out on “Camcorder,” which was inspired by the cult classic horror Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. Those who are familiar with the film will be chilled to the bone when Busch growls, “Let’s watch it again.” “Tape” suggests someone coming along to encounter the carnage of “Camcorder”.
Chat Pile may traffic in the most unsettling human impulses lyrically, but they don’t do it simply for shock value. The matter-of-factness is meant to rattle us, to shake us out of our bubble of indifference and dulled senses. Taking these horrors to the micro-level makes the human factor harder to ignore or push away. In a year when many of the most memorable records gazed inward to find answers and catharsis, Cool World reminds us that the horrors outside our door are still there and waiting to be reckoned with. There is no catharsis, just an unflinching account of the violence we inflict on each other on an individual and global scale. It makes for the most uneasy but essential listening.