Piles Of Lies
"Mate, what's with all the sad bastard music", exclaimed the now-former friend as he skim-listened through random highlights of my shared iTunes library. I stumbled for a response, shyly mumbling something about finding refuge in tragedy and escaping into the depths of emotional music, before pulling my headphones back on, double-clicking on CFTPA's Tonight Was A Disaster for the 400th time that day and slipping back into the morbidity.
The darkness of Batrider's music is what first enticed me to them. Their 2005 cunt-scraping tune Santanana was the initial seed, with Sarah Chadwick's piercing screams about "running away" and "jumping from the second floor" still to this day more than capable of sending tingles up-and-down my spine and/or automatically fetching my gin and tonic and razor blades emergency pack. Their music sounded like it was the last dying breathe of someone who had been beaten and emotional violated. By R Kelly.
The band's new album, Piles Of Lies, continues their fucking-top-yourself-or-die-trying mentality, but the title track shows a rare glimpse of mild optimism. While they've previously tinkered with areas of sarcasm and misleading positivity warping slowly into bleakness, they've never musically bounced along with such high hopes. The lyrics aren't quite as upbeat, but still delivered with a greater sense of "who der fuk cares if ya cum beck mate" [Kiwi accent] and nonchalant attitude, rather than the usual gritted teeth determination.