- I first came across BATPISS during the great noise binge of 2013. When I was chest deep in Canada’s METZ and Iceage from Denmark. To discover that Melbourne was contributing to the depth of this sound nearly forced their album Nuclear Winter to become a choking hazard. I survived and so have BATPISS, releasing the relentless Biomass in 2015 and now offering up their third album Rest In Piss to our increasingly deadened hearing. 

For the most part, Rest In Piss is standard fair for BATPISS. It’s a confronting squall of DC Post-hardcore and Melbourne Post-punk. If I was Bernard Zuel, I’d probably remark that it’s strengths don’t lie in forging new ground but in solidifying who they are within the genre in which they create. There is a noticeable rise in intensity, though, and not just in volume or speed. It’s a deeper passion. Like experimenting with charring a steak over a gas burner. The first half of Rest In Piss reveals that BATPISS now know how to ride that gas burner to it’s optimum capacity so that it’s crispy on the outside and medium-raw on the inside. 

As the relatively prog Rui’s Lament gives way to the inhuman WW3, Rest In Piss’ overarching morbidity reveals that the steak you’re charring is actually yourself, revealing a raw depth. The trio have been very open about death being a significant inspiration for the album and as the harrowing Bells For The Victorian plays into Weatherboard Man, BATPISS set in place a grand appreciation of erasure of identity and loss of connection, sending you back to the beginning of the album. Death is, after all, the ultimate motivation. 

- NJR.