They say:
But when it comes to flexing muscles, Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs are pumping iron. There’s a sense of security when faced with Orange amps and speaker stacks, and when frontman Matt Baty emerges wearing shorts and a boxing dressing gown, then you know they’re going for the prize. By their own admission, their psych-metal collision is forever playing Donington sometime after a Judas Priest slot, but it feels equally at home here. Rocking righteously against a muddy mix, they can claim a victory on points instead of a TKO.
Photo by Parri Thomas
See the full review here: The Quietus
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