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REVIEW: Fat Dog - A Howling Chaos of Energy at SWX - 19/02/25
REVIEW: Fat Dog - A Howling Chaos of Energy at SWX - 19/02/25
26th February 2025
Stepping into the sold-out gig at SWX, the space was already humming with anticipation, bodies packed together, waiting for the inevitable sonic eruption that Fat Dog was about to unleash. The band, currently tearing through their 'Woof' tour, has built a reputation for their wild, boundary- pushing performances.
I first came across Fat Dog at Glastonbury last year. It was late, maybe even early, and I stumbled into the Bimble Inn half-asleep — and left wide-eyed. Their set was feral and euphoric, the kind that sticks to your memory like mud on your boots. Since then, I’ve told just about anyone who’ll listen: you’ve got to see them live. So when they came to Bristol's SWX this February, there was no way I was missing it.
Fat Dog's sound is a furious collision of punk, techno, and sheer unpredictability. Frontman Joe Love was a commanding presence, prowling the stage with the kind of manic energy that sets the tone for the night. The audience were captivated by the plant being poked and prodded on stage and as I looked around I could see people sat cross-legged around the edges of the room, while others watched and listened, swaying in a trance-like state to the evolving melancholic sounds.
Picture a spiralling funhouse where every turn triggers another strobe-lit jolt of noise, bark, bass, or bliss — a dizzying, unrelenting rollercoaster ride that is the Fat Dog experience.
Their recent stop at Bristol’s SWX only reaffirmed what we already knew — we're totally sold. From the moment the crowd crammed in — early, eager, wired — it felt like you could reach out and feel the electricity in the air. The opening act, Y, felt like an extension of the main event rather than a prelude: sax-driven, bass-pummelled, and riddled with rhythmic snarls, a side project comprising of members from Fat White Family and more. The support band ,Y, locked us into a shared pulse and, by the end of their set, the room had found its rhythm.
“THAT’S F*CKING FAT DOG BABY!” rioted frontman Joe Love as the band kicked in with Vigilante, planting us into the epicentre of a building, spacey echo chamber. We were deep in the Fat Dog multiverse once more!
Fat Dog’s music lives on a knife-edge between unhinged and euphoric — a place where seven-minute opuses like King of Slugs become full-body rituals. At one point, the rhythm broke into a waltzing half-time sway, the wave rippling drunkenly with it as you may sway along to one of The Cat Empires vibrant ballads, before snapping back into whiplash-inducing speed. Around us, the circle pit twisted and reformed like a single breathing body.
What makes Fat Dog so captivating isn’t just the sound and tempo; each track feels like a chamber in a haunted carnival: distorted mirrors, absurd characters, ecstatic disorder. And, yet, it all holds together. There’s order in the mess. While it is hard not to feel like the whole performance is holding on by a fraying thread of lunacy, the music comes back within reach and the audience begins to synchronise with the sound.
Respite never lasts long in the house of Fat Dog. Running, a crowd favourite, closed the set with sprinting intensity — a final burst of movement rippling across the room. They give it all. Fat Dog aren’t for everyone, but if they are for you, you probably already know. I’ll be catching them again this summer, and I reckon a few more people will be joining me this time.
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