Listen to "The Life In Pink" by Pigs Immediately
Failure, self-disgust, and miles upon miles of pot-holed, bloodied, and mangled string guitars.
Pigs, the excellent East Coast noise band made up of ex-Unsane and Players Club malignants, make it look easy. “It,” in this case, being hard life music built on failure, self-disgust, and miles upon miles of pot-holed, bloodied, and mangled string guitars. (Consistent metaphors are for emotional wimps.) When all the kids are perusing AmRep handbook that their uncle hid under the mattress, Pigs take a swig of ‘tussin, plug in, and burn house, the parking lot, the van with the two broken side-view mirrors, all the way down. Then they bully you to pay their meager guarantee. So mean.
Consisting of Dave Curran, Jim Paradise (who, full disclosure, I was in Freshkills with), and producer to the stars, Andrew Schneider, Pigs formed in 2008. They put out the perfect and perfectly slept on, You Ruin Everything in 2012. That album was the sound of Jameson fueled rage and inevitable divorce. The disheveled literal clowns portrayed wasted on the beach of Coney Island on its cover later found out about the record, contacted Curran and, of course, took him out for too many drinks. Life is amusing if you insist.
Upcoming PIGS album, Wronger, was written and recorded sporadically over the last year or so, when each member wasn’t focused on feeding their families, detailing race cars or, in Curran’s case, doing sound for like-minded ogres Melvins, Big Business, and Murder City Devils. But the sound of Wronger (which has the bonus of guest vocals by Made Out Babies, Battle of Mice chanteuse Julie Christmas) is crazy rhythms that never slip into self-indulgence and a groove and bark that’s equal parts sinewy Touch & Go and the southern rock bastardizing of Surgery’s first album. The sound of Wronger is that of an effortless dropping of previously mentioned bottle from a great height. The bottle shimmers and twists before it meets concrete. But, yeah, the concrete is going to happen. Wronger is aggressive, but not cartoonish and, hell, if it is a cartoon it’s Bugs Bunny when he was a mean, funny, wascally, sonofabitch. With maybe a little Marvin The Martian thrown in for good, planet-destroying measure.
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