It’s always nice to find music you really like. It’s especially nice to find music you like that no-one has ever heard before, music that could be on the cusp of a breakthrough or a major cult following, music with a grandly talented, confused young soul at the helm. Google searches where next to nothing comes up are a music snob’s nectar, and this is a particularly juicy flower.
Mosy on down to PigThe’s website. Apparently there are 13 PigThe releases, stretching all the way back to 2004. There’s no bio or personal info, just a collection of self-abasing prose poems and newsfeeds telling you not to listen to any of his tracks because they’re shit. And perhaps that’s the reason for their invisibility – the entire site smacks of flagellation, of constant penitence for inflicted these awful songs upon the world, as if the man is constantly in the act of sicking up harmonics. The songs exist, but this is an exercise in anti-promotion.
But they’re not shit. They’re really not. They’re fucking awesome. This is a more eclectic and all encompassing record than anything I’ve heard this year. And while it may be rooted in the old acousticguitarandwittyvocal trick, this self-induced invisibility has allowed PigThe to do whatever the hell he wants. Autotune peppers the album like a squashed fly biscuit. Tracks like ‘Mephistopheles’ do more to rescue pop punk than a hair spray factory ever could. And best of all, near the middle of the collection comes ‘Orange Juice’, a quick, brilliant foray into metal-core.
Never mind that the production is close to non-existent. That’s what this is – a collection of songs written by a dude who writes them simply because he can’t help himself. And hamstrung as he is by self-loathing, listen to them now, because there will be no confetti. No NME tour. No catchy posters. Probably no live show. PigThe is 7 times older than The Vaccines, 100 times more deserving, and indescribably better. Don’t believe the hype. Believe in kids with laptops.
Ps. – http://pigthe.com/discography.html = a goldmine