Over the course of their first seven albums, Pile have developed the particular brand of dissonant yet melodic rock that fans have come to expect; music that’s equal parts aggression and beauty. Having chipped away at a signature sound for more than a decade now, the four-piece seemed poised to make a monumental shift in their sound.
The past few years has seen the band revise their back catalogue, reimagining much of that material through the use of synthesizers and piano. All Fiction is the culmination of this new interest in softness, a slow burn recalibration that expresses the more vulnerable side of Pile. Embracing newer instrumentation and a new scope of emotion, All Fiction feels like the first big step in a new direction for the band.
All Fiction goes about achieving the emotional peaks that Pile is known for through different means — primarily, this sounds like ditching predominantly guitar-based melodies, instead filling these moments with various synths and more ambient arrangements. This is evident through songs like “Gardening Hours,” “Link Arms” and “Nude with a Suitcase,” songs that are primarily built around diaphanous synths. These songs retain the dark atmosphere that Pile has become so good at conjuring while exploring new corners of feeling in a way their previously guitar-bound style could not.
Rick Maguire gives some of his best vocal performances to date on All Fiction; mostly gone are the shrieks and harsh vocals that were predominant on early records like Magic Isn’t Real, as Maguire adds a controlled, melodic depth to his fire-and-brimstone exorcisms. Whether it’s the haunting melodies of “It Comes Closer” to the higher vocal register on “Nude with a Suitcase,” the range that Maguire covers on this record is quite phenomenal.
As far as lyrical content goes, this might be the most vulnerable and straightforward material that the band have ever tackled. Gone are the vague analogies that pervaded older material like “The Octopus” and “Pets,” replaced by spotlights on real-life specifics and complicated feelings — on “Loops,” Maguire asks “Eddie, are you being honest, cause I would never lie to you,” while “Blood” finds him pontificating that “I’m still convinced that not even nothing exists.”
However, it’s drummer Kriss Kuss who’s really the star of the show. Given that some of the more traditional rock elements have been stripped away, Kuss’s percussive voice is forced to creatively adapt to these new shapes. That work is evident on songs like “Gardening Hours” and “Nude with a Suitcase,” tracks that are coloured with unorthodox fills and beat patterns. Perhaps the peak of this is on “Link Arms,” where cymbal scrapes and mallet patterns build the tension before ushering it to a climactic apex through a barrage of toms — it’s the percussion, rumbling beneath this newfound architecture, that ultimately brings All Fiction to life.
All Fiction is the mark of a new era for Pile. It’s one that might take some listeners time to get used to, but it’s an altogether richer and more mature sound that opens new avenues of sound for the band going forward. The future is as unpredictable as ever for Pile, but whatever comes next is sure to shake up expectations.