Pile All Fiction

Part of the joy of immersing oneself in the music of Pile is that you're never quite sure what to expect. After taking a more experimental route on a pair of self-released albums, even more than their usual selves, the tireless Boston trio returns with one of their most intriguing concepts. Filled with eerie and distorted imagery, Pile delivers a percussive, chillingly evocative set of vignettes that feel like a fever dream. Split evenly between heady, expansive post-hardcore (Link Arms) and disjointed guitar freakouts (Blood), their textural avant-noise often takes bleak, yet rousing detours. But the band does occasionally dabble in more streamlined songcraft, like on Loops, adopting a hooky industrial wallop that could've competed with the likes of Stabbing Westward in a different time. The tension they harbor throughout can sometimes feel a little too detached for its own good, but that doesn't take away from an otherwise nonlinear experience that has the potential to grow over time.