With a reputation for causing chaos both onstage and off, South London's Fat Dog are gearing up to whip 2024 into a frenzy.

Words: Neive McCarthy.
Photos: David Richardson.

The perils faced by a cheesemonger are not to be taken lightly, as Fat Dog's resident keyboard and synth player Chris Hughes makes clear. It's not an occupation for the weak, and neither, as it happens, is being a member of Fat Dog. When frontman Joe Love joins the call, it becomes apparent that the explosive last year in the world of Fat Dog has been full of unexpected twists and turns, and seemingly falls.

Anyone who has managed to catch a Fat Dog show over the last couple of years will perhaps not be surprised at that kind of incident taking place mid-show. Building a reputation upon raucous proceedings long before they even released their first single, the band's live performances are nothing short of a fever dream. Joe has a penchant for throwing himself into the thick of the crowd, drummer Johnny dons a latex dog mask, and there are impressive mid-set dance routines – if you can imagine it, it probably exists in a Fat Dog set in some capacity.

The result is a performance that's difficult to look away from, and that high-voltage approach has encouraged a spirited conversation around the band. Through support slots with the likes of Sports Team and Viagra Boys to sweat-soaked festival sets, they've carved a name for themselves purely based on that commanding stage presence. In the midst of their very first headline tour, they've brought that kinetic mayhem to a new level.

Some have genuinely gone barking mad over Fat Dog, a select few more so than others if you consider the woman who kindly gifted Joe a boiled egg. "It's a burgeoning romance," Chris smiles. "It's very intense," counters Joe. They're a band revelling in avoiding convention, so it makes sense that they'd inspire that kind of reaction.

One such example of their unique approach lies in their choice to make the mammoth, seven-minute chameleon-like 'King of the Slugs' as their first-ever single earlier in 2023. It's a sprawling effort, a song constantly shifting until its close is unrecognisable from the way it began. A striking, bold decision, but one that has no doubt paid off.

Chris continues: "The thing about 'King of the Slugs' is it's a seven-minute song, so that's why we thought it was a bad idea releasing that as a single. It's just fucking long, and I think some people might think it's almost an arrogant move. I think it worked out quite nicely, though; it's one of the songs that sums us up quite well. It's very danceable songs that aren't necessarily about anything important."

It's a very specific blend that stems from their myriad influences and tendency to dip between genres with little care for how naturally they might come together. It begins with a riff that practically snarls, tension rising immediately before Joe's scorching vocals even come in. The fraught mood doesn't last long, however – release is quickly found as the track descends into a swirling, cathartically klezmer-esque cacophony.

It's a statement above all else – of who Fat Dog are, of what they're capable of, of how far they are willing to push things away from their expectations. It's darkly cinematic at times, and at others, it chooses rave-fit beats that encompass you completely. If there were ever a track to epitomise Fat Dog, 'King of the Slugs' is it.

With such an array of influences, it's impossible to pigeonhole Fat Dog, but many are wont to do so regardless – they found themselves labelled as post-punk, specifically in the country of France, but the musical world of Fat Dog extends far beyond that.

Thankfully, it seems a lot of people are enjoying it. It was a seemingly impossible task taking the track from its original two-minute version, which Joe assures "sounded like arse", to something resembling the sprawling sonic bedlam of its live counterpart. Eventually, however, they managed to capture the essence of that.

As is perhaps the nature of the ever-changing, ever-shifting band, that recorded version has, in turn, prompted even more change.

Claiming to play the viola (but actually sounding "like the worst piece of shit I've ever heard in my life," according to Joe) was Chris's way in, a move that sums up the ethos of the band quite well. "You've just got to be tenacious! It's confidence over competence. That's all that really matters in music."

Luckily, Fat Dog do have a bit of both, or they might have had a considerably quieter year. It's looking set to be an even busier 2024, with promises of even more pandemonium to come and their debut album looming ever closer. There's just the small task of getting that done yet.

Fortunately, it won't be all slaving over caramel macchiatos and no play – with gigs taking them to caves in the Arctic Circle on Joe's birthday and a whole host of new music to unleash on the world, Fat Dog are set to send even more people barking mad for them in 2024. At this point, it's just what they do – that's Fat Dog, baby.