It takes approximately 10 seconds of listening to Pig Pen’s debut album, Mental Madness, to realize this isn’t just some celebrity’s whimsical detour into hardcore. This is a man who has the genre, lifestyle and DIY ethos coded into his DNA. His voice — raspy, sludgy and astonishingly powerful — immediately erases any lingering doubts.
That voice belongs to Matty Matheson, the chef-turned-cultural force whose recipe videos have racked up millions of views. For years, he’s worn his hardcore roots on his (heavily tattooed) sleeves — popping up in cooking clips and social posts in niche band tees and full-color ink. And since stepping into the prime-time limelight, he’s been Trojan-horsing hardcore into the mainstream — repping Power Trip and Harm’s Way shirts while playing Neil Fak on The Bear, FX’s runaway hit.
So earlier this year, when Matheson and some of his oldest friends — including Alexisonfire’s Wade MacNeil (guitar), Daniel Romano (guitar), Tommy Major (bass) and Ian Romano (drums) — announced they had formed a hardcore punk band called Pig Pen, ears pricked up.
Their 10-song, 22-minute Mental Madness (out now on Flatspot Records) blends thrashy punk with generous helpings of chug-chugs and weedly-wees, nodding to classic ’80s hardcore while immediately surpassing expectations.
Mixed by Arthur Rizk (Cold World, Fucked Up, Power Trip) and mastered by Alan Douches (Mastodon, Dillinger Escape Plan, Converge), the album sounds as tough and tight as anything from the scene’s modern vanguard. It’s also a compelling throwback to the band members’ youth spent raising hell and building a hardcore scene in the unlikely city of Fort Erie, Ontario.
For Matheson and MacNeil, hardcore was their way of participating in the world. They quickly learned the virtues of community, service and self-reliance. These principles have stuck with them throughout their diverse careers, whether in MacNeil’s bands or the way Matheson runs his restaurants and creates his food.
Revolver dug in the trough and got the pair to squeal all the details on everything Pig Pen.
Sid
How far back does this friendship stretch?
WADE MACNEIL I think there’s a good chance everyone in Pig Pen was at my first-ever show with my first-ever band, which was also with Dan. I would have been 15. We’re from a small city, and so everyone going to shows knew each other.
What was Niagara and Fort Erie’s hardcore scene like at that time?
MATTY MATHESON It was an amazing scene. They had all these bands and venues playing in the Niagara region that I felt really lucky to be a part of. There were metal bands and punk bands and hardcore bands, and everyone would play together. Me and my friend put on a hardcore show in a gymnasium in Fort Erie. I think that was Fort Erie’s first-ever hardcore show.
You’ve both gone on to take such different routes from your musical origins. Does hardcore still feel like who you are at your core?
MACNEIL Punk and hardcore was what made me want to start playing music. It’s been a throughline in everything.
MATHESON Growing up and being a part of the hardcore punk scene and going to shows as much as we did, and putting on shows and being in bands and everything — it is very much a part of who we are and what we appreciate and want to participate in.
What does Pig Pen allow you to do that’s been missing from your other ventures?
MACNEIL It’s more simplified than what I’m normally doing. But at the same time, it’s taking those simple ideas and playing them as fast as I can. For me, I don’t think there’s a more fun way to play the guitar. You’re really holding onto it like it’s gonna crash and just trying to get through. Luckily the songs are only like a minute and 15 seconds.
MATHESON It gives me a place to truly be with my friends, and I think the hardcore scene, in particular, is about giving, not just taking. You have to participate by putting on a show, doing a zine, starting a band. All that shit still very much resonates with everything I do, which is very DIY. That’s why I think I’ve been able to do all this, because of that foundation of going to shows and understanding that it is about participation. Everything you put into the scene is reciprocal.
It’s been a few years since you guys actually recorded this music. How did it feel to revisit the material when you performed for the first time in april?
MATHESON It was a funny situation where no one really had heard even any of our songs. We hadn’t even released a single and so it was just like an amazing thing, like kids were stoked to come out and participate and go off. We ripped through it. I think our set was, like, 18 minutes.
MACNEIL It was great, yeah. Making the record was just as simple as some old friends getting together and doing something with no preconceptions of what it was supposed to be. We weren’t sure if it was gonna come out, or if we were gonna do any shows.
With the nature of hardcore, everything’s done in such a quick flash. When you actually went back and rehearsed these songs and played them live, did you learn anything about them?
MACNEIL We didn’t want to keep revising it and trying to smooth things out. I think that’s when heavy music stops feeling right. The more you finesse it, the more you take the teeth out of it.
Matty, when was the last time you performed onstage in this kind of capacity?
MATHESON I had a joke band called Sex Tears. Me and my friends, we did kind of the same thing where we wrote a couple songs, and then we played for my 30th birthday. I used to do this thing called Matty Fest at Parts and Labour [ed. one of Matheson’s former restaurants in Toronto]. We would make a set within a week. We wrote the songs on Monday, practiced them on Wednesday, and then we played the show Friday. You know, in the past 20 years, I probably would have spent about 25 minutes onstage fronting a band. So this is definitely the first time actually doing it since high school.
Pig Pen sounds like Sex Tears in that it was ultimately an opportunity for you to hang out with some old pals. But who or what made the decision for you to actually turn pig pen public?
MATHESON I think it was the fact that we genuinely thought it was good. We sent it to some people after, and they said the same. We wanted to respect the work by actually putting it out there for people to hear.
Sid
What were you guys eating when you were hanging out and making this music?
MATHESON Pizza, wings. One day I brought a bunch of chicken and eggplant parms.
A lot of hardcore musicians also happen to be line chefs, or work in the food industry in some capacity. What do you think the link is?
MACNEIL I’ve known Matty for a really long time, and through him I’ve met a lot of chefs and people that are involved with food. And there was a certain point when I realized that all of the chefs and the people working at restaurants are infinitely crazier than most of the musicians I knew. And, you know, punk and hardcore is usually what they’re listening to in the kitchen.
MATHESON You don’t make a lot of money. You work really hard. If you’re in a punk or hardcore band, you probably tour nonstop, and you’re in this little van every single night. It is very similar in food. You spend all day getting ready, then you’ve got service, and then you get to hang out more with your friends. You’re cooking the same food just like you’re playing the same songs.
MACNEIL There’s got to be a compulsion to it, too — because both are like strange things to spend all your time doing. But I think if you’re sticking with either of those things, you don’t just love it, you’ve got this feeling that you have to do it.
Do you foresee a future for Pig Pen?
MATHESON The thing with Pig Pen is that we don’t have any expectations. We’re not putting any pressure on ourselves. I think if we have that feeling, which I think we will for a while, [we will] play five shows a year. We’re going to be friends for a long time and Pig Pen will echo that.
This interview appears in Revolver’s Summer 2025 Issue. Order your copy over here.