It reads:
Its shaping up to be a heavy, sludge encrusted week around here, so naturally I’ve set sights on the debut from UK space juggarnaut Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs or Pigs x7 as they are, mercifully, better known. The album is only three tracks long, but much like that heavy slab by Dhidalah yesterday, they’ve got no affinity for brevity and little remorse for unleashing a half ton torrent of noise upon the listener. The album opens with “Psychopomp,” clocking in just a tad over fifteen minutes of sludge, a suite of grit, blood and bile that feels like there may be no hope of ever seeing light again. Usually on a track pushing the stopwatch toward the quarter hour there’s an eye of the storm, or some sign of relent, but Pigs x7 open hot and pretty much clear cut any ounce of hope you had living in your system before the needle pop out of the groove.
Read the full review here: Raven sings the blues
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