Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs have never been big on subtlety. The new Death Hilarious (Missing Piece) is yet another bracing testament to their uncompromising approach. Admittedly, the U.K. quintet sounds a bit older, wiser and clearer-headed on their latest LP. But their predatory psych metal hasn’t lost a shred of urgency despite the lifestyle changes lead singer Matt Baty and the rest of the band have set in motion for their self-preservation. They’ve acknowledged that they never expected to make it to a fifth album. Yet here they are, making the most of it with a maelstrom of Sabbath grind, frayed noise rock and even a foray into hip hop with New York rapper El-P on “Glib Tongued.” Baty surveys the damage.
—Hobart Rowland
As if your music weren’t aggressive enough, you take an even more aggro approach on Death Hilarious. What was the motivation behind this so-called “slap in the face”?
To an extent, we were a little influenced by the previous album (2023’s Land Of Sleeper) when we were writing the new one. (Guitarist) Sam (Grant) produces our albums, so when we’re writing, he’s also thinking a step ahead of us in terms of how he can shape them sonically to give the new album a different character from the last. As the songs were coming together, it was evident that they would suit a more direct and aggressive approach regarding the production. Sam massively leaned into that—more so than any other record we’ve done.
Would it be safe to say that the punishing feel of the new album is a direct reflection of the world in general right now?
It’s impossible not to be affected by the state of society. Everything globally feels absolutely upside down. There’s a lot unjust in the world, but there’s also a lot of light. Our band has always bounced off the absurdity of it all. But we exist somewhere in between those two points.
How did your crisis of confidence feed into the anxious energy of the new album?
I had a lot of stressful things going on in other areas of my life, which provided a pretty fertile breeding ground for negative thought processes that were leading me to question myself. A lot. It eroded my confidence and started bleeding out into other aspects of my life, including Pigs. When it came to writing lyrics for the album, I was very much locked into this mindset. That voice questioning, “Can you even do this anymore?” was very loud and very real. It was completely prohibitive, and I wasn’t getting anything down I was proud of, or that I felt had any value. The turning point was when I realized I should just give this voice an avenue to express itself. As soon as I did that, it felt like I’d taken control of it, rather than it controlling me.
It took you five years to release your debut back in 2017. You’ve released four LPs since. How has your work ethic—and life in general—changed for you guys?
In the early days, all we focused on was having enough music to hit the road and play as many live shows as possible. We were pretty carefree in that regard, fueled by Buckfast (Tonic Wine) and wild abandon. As our touring schedule started to get heavier, we realized quite quickly that we needed to look after ourselves a bit more. What we do is quite physically and mentally taxing, so tanking a lot of booze every night quickly became counterproductive. So, yeah, we try eat and sleep as well as possible so we have as much energy as possible to transfer into our live shows.
Your sound isn’t exactly mainstream. How have you been able to grow your audience?
I have a massive sense of imposter syndrome, so I’ve never really been able to pinpoint it really. What I do recognize is that we throw absolutely every atom of ourselves at what we do, whether that’s live or in the studio. At its essence, our music is honest and quite a visceral experience. As the world becomes more intense, so does the need for escapism—and I think our band does that quite effectively. It’s a noisy old world, and we’re here to battle that with our own noise … carve out a bit of space.
See Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs live.
