Death Hilarious Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs

Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs may have just released their magnum opus in Death Hilarious. Porcine fanboy Sean Millard digests every note as though it was a human appendage thrown into his sty to conceal a grisly dispatch.

I’m proud to say I’ve been a card-carrying supporter of Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs (henceforth Pigsx7, for fear of wearing out my Pigs key) since their staggering debut, King of Rats, in 2017.

There is something undeniably attractive and compelling about them that captivates not only a typical ‘rock’ audience but, more broadly, open-minded fans of all persuasions. But what is it?

Perhaps it is their ultra-memorable, comedic cool, talking-point of a moniker. The fun in reading the reaction of the uninitiated when the recommendation is announced to them is undeniable. Good marketing. It could be the band’s clear enthusiasm for what they’re doing and where they’ve come from musically – their self-aware ‘suss’.

Maybe it’s that they have that magical je ne sais quoi that puts you firmly behind the underdog; something magnetic that persuades support from all quarters. A sense of “local lads done good”, or the excited, foreshadowing feeling that Pigsx7 are perpetually on the brink of exploding beyond genre. That there will be a legitimate claim to make that you “prefer their early stuff” once the mainstream begins to tickle them, abuse and discard them. Hey – it could happen.

For me though, it’s all that guff, but more importantly that I’ve never been able to categorise them. Where do you file Pigsx7? Punk? Stoner? Metal? Noise Rock? Just Rock? They are a vinyl archivist’s nightmare.

Regardless, whether it’s the epic cosmic punk of Feed the Rats, the concise driving stoner grooves of Land of Sleeper, or anything in between those sonic bookends, Pigsx7 always deliver a unique take on listener expectation. Partly because they sound like they’re enjoying playing so much that you get as carried away as they do, and partly because Matt Baty’s lyrics are always so self-aware and joyfully ROCKIST that the end result is always so uplifting and exciting, you can’t help but buy-in and get behind the daft little scallywags.

And live? Absolutely incendiary. Sweaty, loud, half naked and abso-fucking-lutely magnetic. Fun, groovy and a little bit frightening, just like all the best bands are.

They look completely unassuming off-stage. Their persona is so schizophrenic it adds to their adrenalised attraction.

With all that weighted expectation, I was really wondering how the Piggies would maintain momentum – especially as 2023’s crushing Land of Sleeper really was (for me), an apex that seemed insurmountable. Its start-to-end rolling riffage felt impossible to beat. The concise songwriting and ear-worming tune-smithery represented a band at its peak, unconcerned with commercial expectation or spreading their fan-base even wider than somehow, against the odds, it had become – Land of Sleeper is simply a great rock record.

So, Death Hilarious has its work cut out – and it’s definitely with soe anticipation that I drop the needle for the first time on this latest episode of Pigsx7’s roiling adventure…

And honestly – fucking HELL – I don’t swear lightly – the album kicks off with what might be their strongest opener yet. The vastly inappropriately titled Blockage launches Death Hilarious with pulse-pounding excitement and the best high-octane cyclic riffing this side of Helmet, with a Motörhead ‘tude and Hawkwind histrionics.

What a killer track – the sound is huge, live and clear. Every element is distinguishable in the mix, despite its ferocity. Guitarist and producer Sam Grant has excelled himself – and Matt Baty has already brought us into the Death Hilarious fold with the line “I reside deep within the earth!” – he’s a master of phantastic headlines. The twin guitar attack and harmonising solos of Adam Sykes and the aforementioned Grant, elevates the track to “Classic” status immediately. Its sub-three-minute brevity insists instant replays, driving home its excellence. What a fucking song.

Follow up, Detroit, brings a grind to proceedings that can only be described as sludgy noise rock – the riffs are elephantine and feel like you’re wading through a treacle bog. Which could easily become an arduous listen, but instead it’s a breathing space after the hyper ventilating Blockage, and it is most welcome. What a racket – single chord grind, squealing feedback and again, a masterwork Baty statement, which finishes the song off with brutal honesty: “I’m – not – to – blame!”.

Collider feels like a grooving and melodic addendum to its cousin, Detroit. Equally sludgy, but more structured, with contrasting, discordant elements that recall some of Melvins’ more recent material, which is impossible to consider a bad thing, obviously.

Preview single Stitches is next – and anyone already familiar with it knows how it has that addictive, laid-back, tom-rolling stoner beat that Ewan Mackenzie so effortlessly provides. Again, the harmonising guitars elevate the track and make it super-special.

So far, four for four. The North East is winning. Not since Leatherface, from rival town Sunderland, has such immaculate noise been crafted.

And then… oh dear.

Glib Tongued is the much-publicised track that features world famous rapper El-P – he of Run The Jewels acclaim. Sorry, but it doesn’t work for me.

The addition of a rapping delivery antagonises and disappoints me. The first of which, I’m sure the band would be overjoyed to hear. But I’m just not interested – musically, the song has a cool descending riff – though still, it’s not as strong as we’ve had elsewhere so far.

It’s heavy though – and the weighty ending especially, is great. I just don’t need anyone other than Baty doing their bit vocally with Pigsx7. I certainly don’t need hip hop being brought into the mix. Of course I recognise that I’ll be in the minority, though, and hey – if it’s their willingness to experiment that I praise so highly, I can’t decry them for doing it, just because I don’t vibe with it. I admire that they went for it. Just not for me.

What IS for me, however, is the perfect seven-minute centrepiece, The Wyrm. This is what I came for. Blistering psychedelic, sprawling riffs and awkward tonal and pacing changes. It’s archetypal Pigsx7 but still feels progressive – they’re introducing more space and crunch than we’ve heard before. And truly – the riffing is incredible. Ear-worming brutality that keeps rising to a brain-burning crescendo. The Wyrm is a genuinely staggering piece of music.

Carousel has a vintage Pigsx7 feel to it. It could come from King of Cowards as easily as Land of Sleeper. The song has got the lot – bluesy foundations in its central rhythm motif, grinding repetition and super-satisfying Baty vignettes: “I salute to a magpie as I advance to my doom!” Oh, how I lolled at the collision of moment with magnitude. Marvelous.

It’s a toss-up for me between Blockage, The Wyrm and Coyote Call for track of the album. Mein Gott, Coyote Call rocks and, Sirs and Madams, it rolls. With weird synthy bits discordantly clashing atop that consistently swinging stoner groove foundation. There’s no way you can’t start banging your head to its perfect Children of the Grave-style sway.

It’s incredible to me that that groove never gets dull. There are so many ways to augment its basic undulating cadence. And Coyote Call is just the latest in an infinitely long line of tributes. Again, Baty slams home his message with the chanting “Nothing’s sacred from the cradle to the grave!”. As a listener you just don’t want the song to end. But it does, of course, in under four minutes.

It has to – to makes way for the hypnotic eight minute closer, Toecurler, which kicks off in finest form with “I call him Doppleganger – don’t like his attitude!”. The song grooves and rolls at a ferociously stoned, fair-to-middling pace. Accordingly, it feels more fluid and loose than it probably is. But the casual way that the band tosses these riffs about creates that moderately herballed bleariness that becomes so life-affirming and endearing. I don’t think Pigsx7 have sounded more laid-back than they do on Toecurler.

Once more, the whistling and odd whoops of a synth – buried deep within the mix – add texture. And the unexpected single finger piano motif that cycles behind them pierces through the density with an out-of-context I Wanna Be Your Dog insistence.

As the song rolls to its end in the best possible monotonous taste, I am left exhausted and entirely sated. Death Hilarious is a really well conceived ALBUM. We’re taken on a propulsive and compulsive journey, from Blockage to Toecurler. We go from blistering punkedelia through grinding doom to anthemic rock in one 45-minute odyssey into the Heart of Insania.

To cut a long-story short, which it’s a little late in the day to suggest, Pigsx7 have excelled themselves once again with Death Hilarious. It may well be their most defining, but varied work yet.

I urge you to go out on April 4th and buy it. Get the record if you can because it’s always the most awesome version. And the mental artwork benefits from the sleeve-size over a digital thumbnail.

The band are also touring the provinces throughout April. So there’s no excuse not to go witness their awesomeness live. You won’t regret it.

I’m entirely convinced that these shores don’t offer anything more exciting than Pigsx7. Five albums in, that can’t be down to novelty.

It has to be down to excellence.

~

Pigsx7 Official Homepage

Pigsx7 Bandcamp

All words by Sean Millard

*Expletive Deleted Substack