WHO LOVES THE SUN (ICE BLUE COLOURED VINYL)

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile
answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that
permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since
the band''''s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based
quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of
the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray
B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap''''n Ron (drums)
create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures
a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological
overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The
Sun feels synthetic.
Whereas their debut album God''''s Country depicted a particularly
American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a
cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun
peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new
century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end
jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects
the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion
apocalypse.
As with much of Chat Pile''''s work, Oklahoma City itself looms
over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic
contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric
of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who
Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record''''s cover, where
Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the
Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops
the foreground.
The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but
Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing
on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave.
From the blood-soaked vocal passages of 'Christabel ''''26" to the eerie
trip-hop pulse of 'Same Rules," Who Loves The Sun is deeply human
despite its allusions to a dying, divided .