Review Summary: Just remember: everyone bleeds
From the time you were born it was over
The world is bleak. Look around you. Nothing is right; and there’s no end to it all. Forget everything you know about hope,
Cool World is reality. On their second full-length, Chat Pile goes beyond just “
God’s Country” – the world is broken and there is no escape from that vicious cycle of violence. With grimy instrumentation that matches the manic, hopeless lyricism,
Cool World is nothing short of a depressing endeavor into the violence that plagues this world.
I gave them my flesh to write the final chapter / But the blood from my sons is just a new beginning
Sometimes the violence we face in this world is found in war. “Funny Man” opens with an intensity that never lets up with its onslaught of groove and heavy riffs. The never-ending barrage of aggression and gimmicky, carnival-like leads resembles the constant demand for more war. Once enough have been killed, they need even more killed. It’s a sick joke that has no punchline, only generational trauma. The melodically bleak chorus of “Shame” gives way to one of the most intense vocal performances from Raygun Busch, with a sludgy, beaten-down breakdown full of visceral screams and low gutturals. But the true madness of the song lies in the story, a graphic telling of bodies being ripped apart with no savior in sight – only God remaining silent.
They made tapes / It was the worst I ever saw
The lyrical one-two punch of “Camcorder” and “Tape” dives deeper into the unfortunate reality of violent trauma being recorded and passed on. As the longest track on the album, “Camcorder” suffocates, even in the bass-driven verses and softly-sung choruses that lack all positivity. In the last half of the song, the same riff and groove is repeated over and over with dissonant guitar leads, slowly deconstructing into nothing more than the drums and atmospheric noise. But the damage was already done. The pain and violence that was felt has already been recorded on “Tape.” Busch’s manic screams are found all over Luther Manhole and Stin’s cohesive guitar-bass chemistry that explodes into a grimy riff-down of groove and insanity. The tragedies of the world, resembled by the intense instrumentation, are relived daily through the tapes that hold onto the pain of violence.
Trash mouth / Veins full of garbage
Physical violence isn’t the only thing
Cool World anguishes about. “I Am Dog Now,” with its brief moment of serenity before the calamity of the album begins, is about the violence of rejection and being “less-than.” The pummeling drums from Cap’n Ron keep the track full of intensity while Busch’s screams about being the lowest of the low – and yet everyone faces this despair. The post-hardcore melodic highlight “Masc” yet again hammers this topic of feeling “less-than” and not living up to certain standards. The intensity of the staccato riffs and poignant grooves within the final moments of the song release all aggression contained within, embodying the violent nature of this otherness.
I screamed about it all night
But what happens with all this violence? Nothing. It’s merely a never-ending cycle of misery. “Milk of Human Kindness,” the most depressing cut of
Cool World, is full of melancholy that feels nothing more than a drone of sound with Busch’s slow devolution into madness and numbness. The overwhelming wall of sound and layering at the climax emphasizes the point: you scream, and it all remains. I could go on and on about the despair in the album, from the hopelessness of “No Way Out” to the cyclical trauma of “The New World.” But one thing is true: there is no escape.
They don’t wanna hear what I have to say
Chat Pile leaves it all on the table. Everything they screamed about in
God’s Country has been brought to all of humankind.
Cool World is darker, bleaker, grimier, and more violent. The lyrics make the musicianship haunting, and the musicianship makes the lyrics tormented.
Cool World isn’t just a band’s frustrations of violence in the world; it’s the life that we live everyday. Listen closely: this is reality.
Outside there’s no mercy
