An interview with London's Fat Dog
By Serenna Zingg
Paperblog Writers founders Olivia Lee (left) and Serenna Zingg (right) with Fat Dog. (Photo by Bella Swartz).
UK-based Fat Dog continues to gain traction as they stoke the flames of their hype with a United States tour and an increasing volume of audacious yet critically acclaimed no-mans-land music. Dropped serendipitously in 2024, the single "King of the Slugs" (because being a tiger is outside of most people’s wheelhouses - might as well just aim for king of the slugs) and following record "WOOF." masterfully rode out the post-pandemic cultural zeitgeist of unrest, the overstimulated information-fried processing systems that are our modernized brains, and London’s evergreen gritty clubbing scene.
Not only was their music dropped to enthusiastic partakers amongst England’s more eccentric, but also to a whooping cheer from a slew of British music media sites who take their absurdist music dead-seriously, and naturally, keep an eagle eye on releases from Fat Dog’s label, the legendary-if-bastardous Domino Records which is home to other delightfully gauche acts such as Wet Leg and The Arctic Monkeys. As Britain’s best new export to the States, Fat Dog’s well-humored music is catching speed as they continue to tour (if to an audience with a weaker sense of irony or ride-to-death obsession than across the pond). Lead singer Joe Love recently had his face tattooed on an unsavory part of a troubled UK fan’s body, and I can only imagine it meant more to him than a stadium full of boring Americans or a Pitchfork phony touting his music as brilliant ever could.
Olivia and I were lucky enough to sit down with members Chris Hughes (keys, guitar), Morgan Wallace (saxophone, keys), and Joe Love (vocals, guitar) for a chat straight after watching their set, which left me both delighted and a bit perplexed. Fat Dog puts on the kind of live performance where you’re not quite sure if they’re making fun of themselves, for making it; you, for enjoying it; or if you’re in on the self-effacing fun together, with, as they divulged in the interview, some British humor baked into audience interaction that might not have had as smooth a landing in America amongst a sober audience than it might have back home. Read Fat Dog’s thoughts on the drinking age in the States, fear about inadvertently upsetting some Americans while just trying to have a bit of fun, and how they translate their music to a live setting.​
On differences between festivals in the UK and America:
Olivia: What has your Bumbershoot experience been like so far?
Chris: Well, it’s such a nice day in general weatherwise, so in that sense, everything has a bit of a nice feeling to it. And also, it’s like, comparing it to a UK festival is really strange because UK festivals are a good bit grittier. By this point (2 pm on the Sabbath), there would be about six people unconscious in the grass. Because we’re allowed to drink outside and drink younger.
Morgan: We’re a bit jetlagged, so everything feels a bit surreal but in a nice way. Like there are happy people and fountains and kids playing with hoola-hoops. It’s a bit unreal, like experiencing loads of American propaganda.
Chris: It’s like all the stuff you see in America growing up in England. There’s skateboarding; there’s white picket fences that we don’t even have in the UK; and there’s loads of music, so it’s nice. It’s really lovely.
Olivia: That was along the lines of my next question - so you are London-based. What differences have you noticed performing in the States at Bumbershoot vs. back in your home country?
Chris: I think familiarity, because we’ve played a lot more gigs in the UK, so normally we’ve played to a few more people; and since they know a lot more of our songs in the UK, they go a bit mental. I think today people were geeking out and trying to figure what we’re all about.
Joe: Yeah, it’s a bit more chill here.
Morgan: It’s harder to know what Americans think, in a way, because we’re not as used to it so you can’t really tell how people are reacting. But if they don’t dance as much, it’s because it’s a different culture - even the humor is quite different.
Chris: Yeah, I think we inadvertently upset quite a few people when we talk to them in a way, because the way we talk to each other is always so dry, and I think some people maybe just don’t pick up on them.
Morgan: It’s funny when we do the hands in the air waving bit here, because it’s like half a joke but everyone is so into it here. We’re not used to playing to happy people.
Olivia: I think in Seattle there’s a culture of reservedness; I’m like, a lifelong Seattle-lite. We’re very reserved - there’s this thing called Seattle freeze. I think it’s real. There’s a social awkwardness there.
Chris: We really relate to that, because that’s like home for us. All of our public transport, if someone says ‘hey’ to you in London it’s like the weirdest part of your day. Like what do you want from me? So in that sense, that sounds quite refreshing.
Olivia: What’s the importance of festivals like Bumbershoot, especially when it comes to building community around music?
Chris: At one level, you could say it’s a really good way of getting a lot of people with like-minded interests in one space. Intrinsically, that creates a little community.
Morgan: It’s also a great spot for discovering new music as well. So they come to see a few, then they might find something new. So it’s cool because we’ve got an audience of lots of people that we might not normally get.
UK-based Fat Dog continues to gain traction as they stoke the flames of their hype with a United States tour and an increasing volume of audacious yet critically acclaimed no-mans-land music. Dropped serendipitously in 2024, the single "King of the Slugs" (because being a tiger is outside of most people’s wheelhouses - might as well just aim for king of the slugs) and following record "WOOF." masterfully rode out the post-pandemic cultural zeitgeist of unrest, the overstimulated information-fried processing systems that are our modernized brains, and London’s evergreen gritty clubbing scene.
Not only was their music dropped to enthusiastic partakers amongst England’s more eccentric, but also to a whooping cheer from a slew of British music media sites who take their absurdist music dead-seriously, and naturally, keep an eagle eye on releases from Fat Dog’s label, the legendary-if-bastardous Domino Records which is home to other delightfully gauche acts such as Wet Leg and The Arctic Monkeys. As Britain’s best new export to the States, Fat Dog’s well-humored music is catching speed as they continue to tour (if to an audience with a weaker sense of irony or ride-to-death obsession than across the pond). Lead singer Joe Love recently had his face tattooed on an unsavory part of a troubled UK fan’s body, and I can only imagine it meant more to him than a stadium full of boring Americans or a Pitchfork phony touting his music as brilliant ever could.
Olivia and I were lucky enough to sit down with members Chris Hughes (keys, guitar), Morgan Wallace (saxophone, keys), and Joe Love (vocals, guitar) for a chat straight after watching their set, which left me both delighted and a bit perplexed. Fat Dog puts on the kind of live performance where you’re not quite sure if they’re making fun of themselves, for making it; you, for enjoying it; or if you’re in on the self-effacing fun together, with, as they divulged in the interview, some British humor baked into audience interaction that might not have had as smooth a landing in America amongst a sober audience than it might have back home. Read Fat Dog’s thoughts on the drinking age in the States, fear about inadvertently upsetting some Americans while just trying to have a bit of fun, and how they translate their music to a live setting.​
UK-based Fat Dog continues to gain traction as they stoke the flames of their hype with a United States tour and an increasing volume of audacious yet critically acclaimed no-mans-land music. Dropped serendipitously in 2024, the single "King of the Slugs" (because being a tiger is outside of most people’s wheelhouses - might as well just aim for king of the slugs) and following record "WOOF." masterfully rode out the post-pandemic cultural zeitgeist of unrest, the overstimulated information-fried processing systems that are our modernized brains, and London’s evergreen gritty clubbing scene.
Not only was their music dropped to enthusiastic partakers amongst England’s more eccentric, but also to a whooping cheer from a slew of British music media sites who take their absurdist music dead-seriously, and naturally, keep an eagle eye on releases from Fat Dog’s label, the legendary-if-bastardous Domino Records which is home to other delightfully gauche acts such as Wet Leg and The Arctic Monkeys. As Britain’s best new export to the States, Fat Dog’s well-humored music is catching speed as they continue to tour (if to an audience with a weaker sense of irony or ride-to-death obsession than across the pond). Lead singer Joe Love recently had his face tattooed on an unsavory part of a troubled UK fan’s body, and I can only imagine it meant more to him than a stadium full of boring Americans or a Pitchfork phony touting his music as brilliant ever could.
Olivia and I were lucky enough to sit down with members Chris Hughes (keys, guitar), Morgan Wallace (saxophone, keys), and Joe Love (vocals, guitar) for a chat straight after watching their set, which left me both delighted and a bit perplexed. Fat Dog puts on the kind of live performance where you’re not quite sure if they’re making fun of themselves, for making it; you, for enjoying it; or if you’re in on the self-effacing fun together, with, as they divulged in the interview, some British humor baked into audience interaction that might not have had as smooth a landing in America amongst a sober audience than it might have back home. Read Fat Dog’s thoughts on the drinking age in the States, fear about inadvertently upsetting some Americans while just trying to have a bit of fun, and how they translate their music to a live setting.​
Behind the eclectic sound
Serenna: Your live shows are part structure, part sensory overload. How much of that chaos is planned, and how much is truly spontaneous? You’ve cited artists such as Prince for that highly experimental influence, which comes through your live music - is it easier to pull this off the more gigs that you play?
Morgan: I think it depends on the day.
Chris: Yeah, it depends on how silly we’re feeling. I think it’s quite not mathematical music, but it’s to a very specific BPM and time signature, and everyone has to be really tight. So in that sense, it’s not as intuitive as it may appear - but because we’re really familiar with these songs, it gets to a point where we can be a bit silly.
Morgan: Yeah, chaos breeds familiarity.
Serenna: You’re lumped into the London post-punk scene, but your music feels a little harder to pin down. How would you describe your music to someone who’s never been to a show?
Chris: I don’t know if you guys have Donk music in the U.S. You should look up some Donk, and it will make sense. Do you guys have bucket hat festival goers? Bucket hats in the UK are the people who come off their faces drunk and have two brain cells knocking together. We make music for that.
Serenna: Who are some smaller artists inspiring you right now?
Chris: GetDown Services. They’re really good. Horsebath. It sounds so gross, but they’re cool.
Morgan: Everyone we like is more famous than us. Pink Eye Club is sick. He plays a lot of similar places that we used to play.
Serenna: Dream venue to showcase your eclectic sound?
Morgan: Definitely the Eden Project.
Chris: Ooh, yeah. It’s this big dome in Cornwall, like a massive greenhouse. That would be really cool. It would have to be somewhere people could move around, not a seated venue.
Morgan: It’s like what you see in Sci-Fi films with the futuristic domes, but a huge greenhouse with a different climate. It’s supposed to be a rainforest climate, but it’s in England, so - not.
Check out "Pray to That," their single released in June of 2025, is classic unleashed Fat Dog raucousness, intentionally engineered for a basement show mosh pit that reeks of beer, sweat, and pee: and it’s exactly the kind of off-the-rails escapism you’d hope for from a South London band of full-time musicians being paid to do anything but take themselves too seriously.