Review Summary: grimace_smoking_weed.jpg
There is no beauty here; no reprieve. There is only disgust. And wonder. Wonder about disgust and its place in everyday life. There's an urgency coursing through each guitar line, in every digital snap of the snare. The paranoia brutally oozing from frontman Raygun Busch may be an exaggerated view of the world more than anything else, but it is definitely real. The entire ill-fitting package feels genuine and what is most terrifying is how relatable it is.
Chat Pile is an illegitimate child that has been locked securely in someone's attic, eating and drinking the bare minimum, for 35 years. Chat Pile is a hairy mole on the back of your neck that you didn't know existed until it needed a biopsy. Chat Pile is chasing that black spot in your peripheral vision that seems to always be right around the corner and yet just out of reach. Chat Pile is the feeling you get when you don't know what you did wrong, but you know you definitely did
something wrong.
There's a lot at work here that elevates
This Dungeon Earth from merely being an unsettling listening experience to being something much more. It leaves a nasty taste in your mouth- one you want to replicate even if you don't understand why. Chat Pile has taken 13 minutes of time and has molded them into a simmering audio meltdown with replayability you'll scarcely find in something so unnerving.
