Fat Dogg are a South London band led by frontman Joe Love, who began writing music for this project during the first lockdown of 2020. Having spent time in post-punk bands, his goal was to create something more electronic that would eventually be backed by a full band. Over time, Fat Dogg expanded to a quintet with Chris Hughes (synths and keyboards), Ben Harris (bass), Jonny Hutchinson (drums) and Morgan Wallace (keyboards and sax). After cutting their teeth at Windmill Brixton and supporting acts such as Viagra Boys, Shame and Yard Act, the band signed to Domino and worked with popular producer James Ford (whose 2024 run includes Fontaines DC, The Last Dinner Party and the new Beth Gibbons album) to co-produce their debut album. Weft.out today. Featuring Love and Jimmy Robertson, and centered around the seven-minute epic “King of the Slugs,” which runs the gamut from dance-punk to klezmerska, the album not only captures the group’s frenetic live energy, it also sets them apart from the rest: It’s idiosyncratic yet infectious, with a riotous quality that’s both apocalyptic and cartoonish. Weft. It’s a little more manic and unpretentious than most bands in the art rock world allow themselves to be, and just buzzes and bangs and you just can’t help but run along with it.
In the latest edition of our Artist Spotlight series, we caught up with Chris Hughes and Joe Love of Fat Dog to talk about their latest show, band developments, their debut LP, and more.
You’ve previously performed new songs on tour before recording, so how have you adapted to the live dynamic of releasing multiple singles from an album?
Chris Hughes: When you put out music, something changes because once it’s out, it’s the song and it becomes the benchmark for a lot of things. Releasing the singles has really changed the way we play live, and it’s developed quite a bit. I think in the sense that they’re on the album, these songs are done and people know them as they are. But in a lot of ways, we always try to develop as much as we can from what we recorded. Also, most of the time we didn’t have set lyrics until we released the song. And once we released the song, there’s only one type of lyric. Whereas before, Joe used to ad lib quite a lot of the lyrics on a lot of the songs. We still do that sometimes, and it’s a lot of fun, but before, we would make them up completely based on jokes that were playing out in the van that day. That was always really fun. But it’s so weird that, lyrically and musically, every song has a set formula, so to speak, and people think of us based on that. It’s a big change, because before, you could just improvise anything, and now you have to be a lot more consistent. But we try to bring some dynamism to it in some way.
You just played some festivals in Europe, what was it like seeing how people responded to the music, even if they didn’t respond to the lyrics in the same way that English-speaking audiences would?
CH: I would say that the rhythm of the lyrics is more important than anything else, because a lot of the lyrics are pretty esoteric in meaning. I think that’s the whole point of Fat Dog. Having a strong sense of rhythm means that people of any language can feel the energy and impact of the lyrics. It’s also interesting to see how people from different cultures view music and go to shows. For example, when we played in Switzerland, the Swiss people were having fun, but they were kind of dry and stuffy. On the other hand, the first time we played in Sicily, Italy, they were wild. The Dutch take a little while to get going, but once they do, they’re pretty wild. The Belgians love to have a good time. There are all these little nuances in the way people from different cultures go out and view music, probably due to their cultural upbringing. There’s a certain politeness and a certain freedom in different cultures, which I think is really interesting. It’s fun to see what it brings out of people, especially with the kind of music we play.
You’ll notice it loosening up.
CH: Yeah, exactly. When we play shows, we pretty much know which countries we’re going to play in. Sometimes it feels like everything in our body is blocking us from doing anything weird. So I jump into the crowd and pretend to be a crab. I become part of the crowd. It’s a silly thing to do, but I think it breaks down barriers for people a little bit. When the band members go out into the crowd and do something totally silly, people relax. So it’s good.
[Joe Love has joined the Zoom call.] Joe, how was your recent festival show experience?
JL: Some were good, some were not. In Holland and Belgium, people knew the lyrics. It’s a bit weird, but it feels good.
CH: Mr Worldwide.
JL: [laughs] Mr Worldwide.
In the biography Weft.you’re quoted as saying that Domino didn’t need a biography, and while you’re obviously joking, I’m curious if it stems from a kind of skepticism about the tendency to narratively frame bands.
JL: Yeah, I think it’s kind of embarrassing when bands talk about themselves and it sounds like they’re talking in the third person, because it’s like they’re on a roll and they talk about the music like… it’s weird.
CH: Third party.
JL: It’s kind of like advertising wedding rings or something.
CH: That’s fine, I think that’s what other people say too.
JL: Give us an example.
CH: I don’t know, but I hear something and it seems very, very pretentious. Pretentiousness is the worst.
JL: Yeah, that’s right. Talking about music is complete nonsense. There are two kinds of people: those who talk endlessly about music, and those who talk endlessly about music.
CH: We Many Time to talk about music.
JL: But in a different way. There’s a difference between talking about the songs you like and talking about the musical process or other people’s process.
CH: Yes, when I’m doing it, I don’t think about how I’m doing it. I just do it.
You started Fat Dog out of pandemic boredom – when did you start to feel excited about it?
JL: I think for me there’s always an excitement. That’s why I make music. When I’m like, “Wow, this is kind of cool.” It’s really cool to make something like that and then listen to it later and think, “I could do something with this.” I’m always thinking about what people are going to think about it. Like, “I think people are going to make a fuss about this.”
CH: It feels really good.
Do you ever get bored while making music? If so, how do you avoid that feeling?
JL: Everyone says it’s 10% inspiration and the other 90% is just working and trying to make it sound good. Sure, it’s exciting to get that 10%, but I’ve never written a song, finished it, and thought, “I get it now, that was so easy. That was lovely.”
CH: Maybe it’s because I put so much effort into the production, not just playing the instruments. There are so many little things like, “I need to turn that drum down a little bit,” and I think it’s really hard to stick to those things. It takes so much time. Even when the song is done, it takes so much time. People hear the song right away, but it takes hours to make a song. It gets forgotten a lot of the time.
JL: Sometimes I listen back to it and I think there was no point in wasting my time on that, because it’s all in my head.
Chris, I know you were fans of the band before you joined, and I’d love to hear from both of your perspectives how that came about.
CH: I’d seen Fat Dogg play a few times and I always thought they were the coolest band. I’d been playing in shitty bands for a while, hanging out with a bunch of guys who talked about doing stuff but never actually did anything. So I thought, “These guys seem to be doing something, and it’d be really cool to be a part of this band.” I asked this old synthesiser if he needed a viola or something. In my mind I was like, “I can’t play like that, but maybe if I work hard I can learn quickly.” I tried, but it didn’t work out so well. Joe couldn’t even look me in the eye during the audition. But he liked that I’d worked hard. Later he said, “We need a synthesiser player now,” and I said, “Actually, I can play keyboards, so I’ll give it a go.”
JL: He brings a lot of energy to the live shows, which is good.
Describe your dynamic when you’re rehearsing and brainstorming ideas. Do you feel like you balance each other’s tendencies?
JL: I would say I’m quite an introvert, and Chris is quite an extrovert.
CH: That’s not true.
JL: Well, you’re very outgoing.
CH: Being social is my job.
JL: Right? Why is being social your job?
CH: Because you’re not sociable. You can’t be forced to be sociable, but I can.
JL: Anyway, he’s a sociable guy. You’re a sociable guy, so what did you do yesterday? I went to meet friends at the pub.
CH: Yes, but it’s not as social. That’s what drives us. It’s all healthy and good. But pubs are not as social.
JL: He’s a very talkative guy. It’s good to have someone like that. He’s the heart of the band.
CH: That’s very kind of you. Every band member has their own quirks, and I think it’s important to keep morale high when you’re in a van for long periods of time. And sometimes, you just have to put on noise-canceling headphones. You have to make sure you’re not attacking someone all the time. I know bands where that’s the norm.
JL: But to be fair, if we weren’t really calm people or really introverted, I don’t think we would have been together that long. I mean, we need our own time. I would go crazy if we didn’t have that.
CH: Yes, we all need our own time, but we’re good at finding that balance.
You explained Weft. You’re making this a loose concept album, but you’ve also said that you want to make the opposite of “thinking music.” Is it difficult to walk that line? Or you have to stop yourself Before things get too conceptual?
CH: Every day is a struggle.
JL: In all fairness, we just made it the best we could.
CH: That I don’t make music by thinking has haunted me like an ancient ancestor in every interview I’ve ever given. But what I meant is music that you feel in your gut, music that takes you out of your head a little bit. I don’t want to be seen as some caveman running around in a studio. There’s a lot of thought put into the actual songs, but it helps the listener get out of their head a little bit. Music that you feel in your gut, that’s what I meant. It’s not music that makes you think, “Oh, listen to these lyrics.”
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.
Source: Our Culture – ourculturemag.com
