DESCRIPTION:
Perdition - 2012
http://pigsofexile.bandcamp.com/
http://www.facebook.com/pigsofexile?ref=stream
shattered face, dead eyes in the mirror
everything I see is survival
I'm a god with his limbs in the gutter
find a girl only to divide her

loneliness is my friend and my knife
I cut myself every night of this life
burns holes into everything I see
stare in the mirror and become my Effigy

I'm the cause of my hate, a pariah
I'm the blood, I'm the rage, I'm the fire
destroys everything that I see
I'm a hate, I'm a burn, I'm my Effigy

I died 14 hard years ago
now I'm a ghost that you don't want to know
burns holes into everything I see
stare in the mirror and become my Effigy
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Rising amid the refuse of Southern California's false counter culture, Pigs of Exile annihilate massive audio landscapes with flagrant promiscuity. More fun than a George W. Bush funeral, the band likes to rock out with their collective cock out. Their intention is to attack the nervous system of the listener, to cause acute emotional discomfort, to raise the hairs on the back of the neck, to cause the synapses to fire with rapid, unrelenting succession, and cause chairs to be thrown through windows, while at the same time force young women to gyrate their booties with undulating rhythmic abandon. This music is not a product; it is an exclamation, a form of protest. Pigs of Exile play with conviction and the complete absence of bullshit.

Responsible for the last three earthquakes in Lost Angeles, JD is an annihilating force of percussion, styled with unconventional rhythms and subtle beats which build and climax in his destructive wake. Known as The Prophet on the street, JD is cool under pressure and when he fixes you with his 100 yard stare, you realize he's the one pulling the strings.

Like a hurtling 747 approaching dangerous velocity, Jeremy executes thunderous bass lines with bad intentions. Brilliant, menacing and available for couch dances, Jeremy is a man with a shady past and a ten ton bass.

Formerly a female stripper on the east coast and currently wanted as a person of interest by the CIA, Marty transforms the physical boundaries of sonic guitar violence. Marty also performs spastic ramblings, random shouts and messages towards the apocalypse, delivering vocals with messianic clarity and occasionally adding patterns that actually fit the songs.

In a time of social and political unrest, intense and original music is one of the last remaining forms of honest communication. The media feeds a heightened frequency of propaganda, people murder each other over a differing concepts of god and economic supremacy. Listen to the pulse of the human tribe lost within itself and staggering into self destruction for an intangible deity, be it god or power. It is becoming an unending multitude of bodies and minds struggling for control amidst chaos and uncertainty, an unrestrained and suicidal populace trying to devour everything in its path. Welcome to The Exile.