CHAT PILE - BUTTON FACTORY. August 18th & 19th. 2026
photo: Killian Broderick
Chat Pile
The Button Factory
Words: David Carr
Night One:
As the poster said, “Different Sets each night,” it meant I was one of numerous who were making dual trips to The Button Factory, keen not to miss our favourite tracks. Singer Raygun Busch is a talkative chap who engages the crowd between every song. “You know Guinness is bad in Oklahoma, but it’s wonderful here. So I’m trying to make the best of it.”
The first note of ‘The New World’ rips, and a fan to my right screams, “Oh My God”. This crowd is pumped and engaged.
Next interval, Busch settles into his movie trivia evening, first name-checking Neil Jordan & Stephen Rae and running through the gamut of anyone from Brendan Gleeson or James Joyce to Bram Stoker.
“This song (Masks) is about this organisation that we hate called ICE. Fuck fascism! Pretty obvious but not so obvious at home, I guess, and Free Palestine”. There’s fear in the lyric, “Look around you now, they could be anywhere”.
“What about that time old Bono came to Hollywood”? A member of the crowd responds with “Bono is a gimp”. A true measure of the feelings in the room. Busch pleads, “You guys don’t like War? C’mon, pull your head out of your ass”.
‘Why’ resonates strongly, touching on the global problem of homelessness. The exasperated lyrics ask, “Why do people have to live outside? We have the resources. We have the means….It’s a fucking tragedy.”
“We weren’t going to play this (Masc) but we see a man in a hockey mask, so we’re gonna play it now”. With that, Mr Hockey Mask indulges in a bit of slow crowd surfing.
During the main set closer, ‘Dallas Beltway’, the crowd continuously hurls itself off the stage in a sea of crowd surfers, losing their collective minds. It’s a joyous chaos.
For the encore, Busch asks, “How about one more? Decisions are being made on stage. We’re going to play a relatively deep cut from God’s Country”. Clearly demonstrating the organic nature of the performance. During the extended outro of the immense ‘Anywhere’, Raygun Busch lies down on stage. Judging by the faces of those who later emerge from a never-ending mosh pit, many were likely to want to join him.
Night Two:
Busch begins, “Two Shows, Double Dublin”. Pleased with himself, he continues, “Hey, we went to the Guinness Showroom today. It’s one of the most impressive museums I’ve ever been to, which is insane. The production value is very high.” Back to the gig, “Ok no repeats. We’re going to try.”
For the opener, ‘Brutal Truth’, Busch’s T-shirt doesn’t even last the first verse, hurled aside, aping the previous night. “That song, of course, makes explicit reference to Wise Blood by Flannery O’Connor.”
I stupidly believed his, admittedly humorous, movie trivia schtick would have ended on night one. No, sir. “Colm Meany, he’s O’Brien, one of the finest members of the Starship Enterprise.” He revisits his Irish horror movie favourites as Caveat (2020) & Hokum (2026).
Reaching at times, he even mentions the lesser-known Kathy Ireland and asks, “Is Enya you guys”?
Night two is louder and heavier. The mosh pit engulfs even more of the floor as a plethora of phones, runners, and other detritus are held aloft after each song, grabbed by grateful owners. Stin’s bass shakes the room, and Cap’n Ron drives the tracks on drums.
There’s plenty of material drawn from the forthcoming album, Who Loves The Sun. A duo of ‘Deep Blue’ and a debut performance of another has Busch explaining, “Both songs are essentially about how much I hate social media and imitative A.I. Fuck A.I.” A later unreleased track, ‘Family Funeral’, turns out “is about Medea, Euripides. I hope someday I can help one of you pass an exam, you know”?
For the encore, Busch reveals, “You know, back there, we were like, should we repeat two songs that you guys maybe want to hear? Or, just keep it, you know... Clean? We chose not to repeat any songs”. Thank god as the drums pound out the opening to Nirvana’s cover, ‘Scentless Apprentice’. A bomb goes off in the room.
Busch lightens the mood. “Do you guys know about Dublin, Texas, the home of Dr Pepper? It’s true”, before emptying his lungs on ‘Garbage Man’, sinking to his knees in an act of self-loathing, screaming “I’m garbage”.
Outside, a soaked punter approaches like he’s fallen out of a boxing ring, babbling about how loud it was. A tray of glasses crashes to the floor. Paradoxically, he shouts, “See, I couldn’t hear that” with a beaming smile.
Chat Pile delivered and then some.