Fat Dog: WOOF Review – relentless drive | Indie

Fat Dog: WOOF Review - relentless drive | Indie

With ears pointed straight up and hairs on finish, South London’s Fats Canine have arrived, snarling but able to play. They know that spoil begets spoil, however on this mess, there’s no time for hesitation; it is time to present some tooth and romp round in warmth – Fats Canine instructions us to bop!

By dance, they imply twist and writhe like a tick torn from its host, frantically looking for a brand new life supply and adrenaline bump. Fats Canine’s debut file, Woof, offers this excessive in erratic doses, hits that devour us complete, solely to projectile vomit us into an absurdist’s oblivion the place the one factor you are able to do is vibrate and contort to the hedonistic rhythms that fill the house.

On the floor, Woof boasts with indulgence and a relentless drive to be as loud as potential, with no look after restraint or breath. There is no reprieve – what’s there may be held shut, each little bit of house stuffed with frenetic vitality, barrelling ahead with an depth that is claustrophobic, impulsive, and stingy – what’s there may be theirs, and what’s ours, particularly our ever-diminishing consideration spans, is theirs too. And the deeper one will get via Woof‘s grotesqueness, the extra Fats Canine lays naked the apocalyptic endgame of our tradition’s unquenched thirst for extra and chaos.

A fusion of blood-pumping artwork rock and colourful EDM,
sharpened with a serrated industrial edge, Fats Canine have taken the
sterility out of rave. That is chaos, decay, and survival music for a
world already wasted away. On this wasteland, nonetheless, there’s object of
worship. Shut your eyes; you may discover “Canine,” additionally, you will hear Joe
Love and firm enjoying his oh-so sacred and acrid wire, pulsating with
a fervently unserious religion. Nevertheless, the theatrics of Love’s pompous
efficiency all through Woof would have you ever consider that it is as devoted as may be.

Evidently, the world right here is in shambles, the long run
feels as empty as the current, however their uncompromised, luny posture is
the one factor reducing via the fog – they only ask of us converts
nothing greater than to bop, and when in “your darkest hour, search for the
gentle, and [Dog] will probably be there,” Love publicizes on the tensely
unraveled album opener “Vigilante”. However at the same time as the unique apostle of
this Canine, Love is misplaced, confused, working from himself and the readability
he fears. His disjointed ideas and muddled intentions paint an image
of futility, but they drive ahead with unbound vitality.

There are “Crackheads to the left / Clowns to the fitting,”
Love observes in a haze, delivering what looks like a twisted hymn in “Clown”. Because the self-proclaimed “King of The Slugs,” he slips from his
pedestal, realizing the load of his personal delusions on “All of the Identical”. Only a unhappy sack within the wind,” he mutters, the tip in sight, ego
battered and bruised. This fixed oscillation between delusion and
self-mutilation of stated ego is disorienting, and but, it is exhausting to say
that it strikes any actual emotional chord, not to mention feels honest.
Fortunately, the unstable nature of all of it intensifies the unruly sounds
and buildings that accommodate these murky, intoxicated tales, spurred
on by spiritual fanaticism.

Towering cliffs of cityscape hypnagogia crumble, fissures
widen, and the spirits of a decaying city panorama are launched. They
dance to train their delirium and hopeless stasis – we’re to hitch.
The invitation to bop, although, looks like a taunting billboard, daring
and vibrant, beckoning us from the sting of a ledge, proper into the
file’s technicolor abyss under. Dying is close to sure, however Woof
is a promised thrill journey to that finish, a celebration for the tip of the world
that’s – an exhilarating launch of city urgencies realized via
among the nuttiest dance or punk music heard in 2024. It scrambles the
mind, leaves the center feeling empty, however compels the physique to maneuver. Woof scratches that primal itch. It is the sound of a society unraveling, and Fats Canine has captured it.

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