Vancouver’s self-described “easy listening” punk band PISS don’t so much play shows as reconfigure rooms. From the first note, the atmosphere snaps. Conversations die. Drinks are forgotten. Something heavier takes over.
Since emerging with just three demos floating around Bandcamp, PISS — Taylor Zantingh, Tyler Paterson, Gavin Moya, and Garreth Roberts — have spent the latter half of 2025 dismantling audiences across North America, the U.K., and Europe, leaving behind stunned silence, tears, and an overwhelming sense of catharsis. Their live sets blur music, poetry, performance art, and confrontation into something closer to an exorcism than a gig.
Exclaim! put it plainly: “What PISS delivered wasn’t a set at all: it was a penance, an exorcism, a resistance.”
At the core of PISS is the fearless presence of vocalist Taylor Zantingh, whose lyricism navigates sexual violence, coercion, memory, rage, and survival — without ever slipping into victim rhetoric. As Far Out noted, the power of PISS lies in refusal: refusal to sanitize, refusal to soften, refusal to accept that anyone should simply “stomach” cruelty instead of raging back.
Musically, PISS operate in extremes. Screeching guitars tear through sheets of distortion. Drums hit with skull-rattling force. Then suddenly, tension stretches unbearably thin — patient chords pulling you into a narrative before spitting you back out bruised and breathless. The Georgia Straight described it perfectly: “like a car bomb going off in a sheet metal factory.”
Live, the effect is overwhelming. Range Magazine called the band “a pack of open nerves,” recounting audiences openly crying as Zantingh screamed and spoke through the ugliest realities of gendered violence and sustained cruelty. Northern Transmissions observed how quickly PISS seize control of a room: background noise screeches to a halt as cathartic fury takes over. Line Of Best Fit summed it up best — pure, unfiltered release.
And now, after months of international shockwaves, PISS are finally putting something tangible into the world.
The band has announced an exclusive, limited edition 7” vinyl release via London-based vinyl creators State51. The record collects the band’s only recorded material to date — the three demos that sparked all this chaos:
- “time loop at hot slit”
- “a little girl’s horse craze betrays her”
- “how can you act opposite to this emotion”
It’s raw. It’s confrontational. It’s the only document of PISS you can hold in your hands — for now.
A pre-order link for the State51 7” is available now.
Alongside the release, PISS have confirmed a full month of North American tour dates this March, including a single Canadian hometown show in Vancouver at The Pearl, before returning to the U.K. and Europe in May.
What sets PISS apart isn’t just volume or aggression — it’s intent. Their music pulls from everywhere: literature, philosophy, film, psychoanalysis, activism, children’s voices, anarcho-feminist movements, and conversations with audience members themselves. These fragments collide into punk that refuses reduction, romanticization, or dogma. Loud music, here, is not empty. It’s precise. It’s purposeful. It’s necessary.
As we wrote after witnessing their live impact firsthand: “Their sets feel less like shows and more like controlled detonations — tense, cathartic, and emotionally blistering. It’s art. It’s punk. It’s chaos, turned surgical.”
PISS aren’t asking to be heard.
They already are.
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