Chat Pile, Rocky’s Pride And Joy @ Lion Arts Factory, Adelaide 16/6/2026
Ask any fan about Oklahoma City’s Chat Pile and they’ll tell you it’s scary how good the noise-rock four-piece are.
But perhaps a more fitting term would be: it’s good how scary they are.
The wall of noise the four-piece create is the perfect canvas for frontman Raygun Busch’s unhinged and often unsettling narratives. Tales of suicide, mental health, despair and war make for an uneasy listen, but that’s precisely what makes this band so gripping.
Home-grown opening act Rocky’s Pride & Joy defied their positive-sounding name and set the evening in (slow) motion with a wall of sludgy doom metal. While more traditionally “metal” in sound than the main act to follow, their at times molasses-slow doom was the perfect primer for the madness that was to follow.
Chat Pile’s Busch is a formidable figure on stage. Shirtless and dishevelled in sweat shorts, he switches between shamanic rain dancing and the anxious wanderings of a child lost in a shopping mall. His stories are delivered with such emotion and raw power that it’s almost hypnotic as they soar above the droning, sludgy backdrop of the band.
Opening with latest single Deep Blue, the four-piece were unrelenting from the very first note. The setlist leaned heavily on the band’s two studio albums, 2022’s God’s Country and 2024’s Cool World. Pamela, the pulsating Masc, Frownland and Pen I S Mall, a track from the forthcoming album Who Loves the Sun, hit the crowd with mighty weight.
Known for his love of cinema, Busch also has a penchant for local knowledge when he tours, discussing films and themes associated with the places he visits. Adelaide was no exception. From Snowtown to Peter Weir and Picnic at Hanging Rock, his Rain Man-esque fondness for film provided the perfect light among the towering darkness the band emanates.
Cap’n Ron’s thunderous drums could be felt in your chest, particularly alongside Stin’s grinding bass. Yet despite the band making one hell of a racket, the mix was sublime, allowing just enough space for Luther Manhole’s sharp fretwork to cut through in equal measure.
On Brutal Truth, a track that harks back to the Incesticide era of Nirvana and a band turning its back on convention with a twist of death metal, Chat Pile showed that their unique brand of organised chaos is unmatched on the live stage. It’s performance art at its noisiest, and this band will be leaving the small stages behind in the coming months, with their new release set to propel them even further into the conversation as one of the genre’s essential live bands.
Live Review By Sam Kelton