Courtesy of Stereogum.

You‰’re Better Than This is not the album that will allow the uninitiated to understand the cult appeal of Pile. If anything else, it‰’s the complete opposite. Song structures are labyrinthine, relentlessly challenging any convention or formula tacked onto the group. Pile‰’s mastery of dynamics and tension are used to keep the listener in complete disarray. Pipe bomb outbursts of noise shatter serene silences. But when you brace to be flattened underneath ten-ton chords, the band substitutes soft finger-picked guitar.

Try to be conscious of your reaction once the rug is pulled from your feet: it‰’s some concoction of longing, anxiety, and displacement that‰’s rarely elicited in any sort of music. It reminds me of the void Bad History Month leaves you staring at in the conclusion of “Thank God For The Ground,‰” but sans the silence allotted for self-recollection. Instead, we‰’re onto another no-less-than-astounding idea entirely with no room to catch your breath.

Quintessential Pile volume is juxtaposed here with their less obvious folk and pop appendages. “Touched By Comfort‰” is a mix of the acoustic-electric timbre of “Pets‰” with pop melodies reminiscent of “Mama‰’s Lipstick.‰” Keys and droning synths provide subtle atmosphere on “Waking Up In The Morning‰” and “Yellow Room.‰” Despite its title, “Fuck The Police‰” is the least adulterated folk composition since Jerk Routine.

New directions aside, You‰’re Better Than This couldn‰’t be mistaken for any band but Pile. Their time recording in Omaha has only made their sound bigger and more ferocious. Kris Kuss‰’s drums still sound like they were captured in a decaying basement, but are now absolutely gargantuan. Dual guitar assaults of feedback and crushing chords are like ear splitting, rabid animals inches from your jugular. The violent spasms of “Tin Foil Hat‰” and dissonant harmonies in “Touched By Comfort‰” are received in masochistic pleasure. Even the comparatively formulaic “Rock And Roll Forever With The Customer In Mind‰” manages to make up for its absent tact with pure volume.

Courtesy of The Fader.

Always present are Rick Maguire‰’s surreal, demented lyrical character studies. In one moment, the protagonist in “Hot Breath‰” is near devoured by the jaws of some monstrosity, then breastfeeding it in the next. There‰’s some queasy perversity in the soaking wet security provided by a grade school teacher‰’s soft hand in “Waking Up In The Morning.‰” Underpinning these silhouettes are the torturous, mechanical tedium of the working world. Buildings are demolished and restored by the invisible forces of monetary circulation on “Touched By Comfort,‰” while Maguire laments the lobotomized rat race of paperwork and resume building respectively on “Mr. Fish‰” and “The World Is Your Motel.‰Û

I‰’m sure you‰’ll get to read plenty of press on this band that makes reference to The Pixies and The Jesus Lizard and “90s revival.‰” That‰’s all bullshit. You‰’re Better Than This is something else, it‰’s seamlessly schizophrenic, absolute in both furor and quietude while constrained by neither. It‰’s a work of art that will one day find itself immortalized, orange numbers be damned.