Review | Chubby and the Gang – And Then There Was…

Label: Flatspot Records

By George Dean

If I was in charge of tunes at King Bowser’s Castle, I may consider putting on Chubby and the Gang’s ‘And Then There Was…,’ a perilously aerodynamic and brilliantly horrifying joyride which straddles on the edge of crashing at every turn.

Chubby and the Gang are fresh off signing with Flatspot Records – the home of modern hardcore. Chubby and the Gang are injecting fresh energy into the mix at Flatspot, through a sonic offering which blends pub rock and 70s’ rock n roll / proto-punk into the hardcore soundscape.

The LP announces its entrance with a tantalisingly sinister Werner Herzog voiceover on ‘Neither The Day, Nor The Hour’ speaking of the inherent violence of nature, as his eyes are awash with “fornication, and asphyxiation, and choking”. The background instrumental growls and whirrs as these contorted images are locked into the listeners’ psyche, before descending into a full-throttle ear-bleeding frenzy. 

Herzog’s cynicism enables the opening track’s functionality as a nihilistic war cry. Manning’s lyrical delivery is infectious as he chokes in untraceable bouts, and we are drawn into his contorted world. The world-building is solidified as Herzog’s apocalyptic prophesying closes the track: “There is no harmony in the universe / There is no harmony as we conceived it”. We have cast away utopian visions of society; we are now in the hands of Manning’s alluring nightmare.

A character of this nightmare is introduced to us in ‘There’s A Devil In The Jukebox’, which opens with the distorted twangs of guitar strings, before lurching into a pumping drum section alongside guitar movements which signal 70s’ rock n roll mutated for the 21st century. 

Lead single ‘To Be Young’, supported by a stripped-back DIY music video, has all the makings of a pub classic. The track carries universal appeal, even for those who may usually find the heavy bite of hardcore inaccessible. Boisterous, scuzzy instrumentals complement the deep-cut insights of Manning’s lyricism. 

He reaches out his hand to those with violent family trauma, warning against repeating the cycle: “You blame your father’s habit, you always see red / You’ve not yet looked misery in the eye yet, my friend”. 

Articulation of class struggle has always been vital to Chubby and the Gang and Manning certainly demonstrates his social consciousness in ‘To Be Young’. He outlines the existential emptiness which can be caused by abusing alcohol and drugs as a means of escapism. 

The closing lines read: “You ain’t got no future, so why do they care?”. This consolidates Manning’s role as voice of the outsider, and this conclusion is made all the more powerful by the feature of Kate Clover on vocals to duet him. This inclusion is in keeping with the nature of ‘And Then There Was‘, as Clover is an LA-based new wave rocker following in the tradition of Patti Smith and Iggy Pop.

‘The Bonnie Banks’ opens Manning’s door to a chink of light. The mood is more jovial and uplifting, as Manning belovedly declares “I’ll be in your loving arms”, and vows to walk his lover “down the avenue in the rain and the snow”. This is hardcore’s form of a romantic ballad.

‘Anticop’ is a glorious anti-establishment revolt. Manning’s scowling and jeering evokes the soul of The Sex Pistols during their late ‘70s heyday; this radical track would have held its own amidst ‘God Save The Queen’ and ‘Anarchy In The UK’.

Following the riotous rock n roll of ‘Some To Make You Better, Some To Make You Sick,’ Manning proceeds to plunge into a forlorn disposition. 

‘To Fade Away’ is a jarring midpoint to the album – a slow and solemn death march. The instrumental has a misty, psychedelic quality which complements Manning’s hazy lyrical delivery. It is a lamentation of decay: “The doctor says I’m sick again”. 

The themes of ‘Love Song (A Response)’ bleakly juxtapose its title – this is an anthem for the despairing. It is the epitome of Manning’s pessimism on the album as he portrays a collapse in the foundations of mainstream society: “Ain’t no God, you used to pray”. The track is a continuation of the LP’s common motif: seeking twisted highs due to inner feelings of alienation. Manning sadistically, gleefully barks: “You fight for fun […] You need to feel alive and you don’t care how”. 

Manning takes a drastically contrasting direction in ‘Since You Said Goodbye’, a track glimmering with nostalgia and flattered by a more commercially palatable, tinkling hook which makes this episode of the album an unexpected earworm. 

Manning’s chapter of introspection ends: ‘A Lust For More’ carries a politically urgent message. The listener’s ears are consumed by the terror of an air raid siren; this is underlaid through a crashing soundscape, as Manning warns of “rivers run red” and “war on the streets”. This dystopian hellscape emanates the perverted harnessing of war as a means of exploitation and extraction.

‘Wish You Were Here’ commences with a voice recording of an unidentified American man I assume to be Manning’s friend: “Chubby, where the f**k are you, we were meant to leave three hours ago and no one can find you”. Backed by profanity aplenty, Manning plays up to his sarcastic, isolationist aura as his throaty, gravelly lyrical delivery flirts with the framework of football chants.

The penultimate instalment of ‘And Then There Was…’ is ‘Two Hearts’. This is Chubby and the Gang’s heavy-rock take on doo-wop, a subgenre of rhythm and blues which, notably, also had a pronounced influence on the ‘70s proto-punk of The Ramones.

‘Cocaine Sunday’ is the height of Manning’s vulnerability. It was Chubby and the Gang’s last single release before the album’s arrival and is stripped of the thrashing guitars and thumping drums hurtling at 100 MPH.

Only Manning and a simple piano tune remain: we now uncover an inner core of grief and regret. ‘Cocaine Sunday’ is composed of considered poetics: “My clothes are wearing me / And my tear-stained sleeves rest gently at the bar”.

There is a mournful confession of crimes as Manning admits he “won’t see no pearly gates”. A harmonica is Manning’s exit call as the curtains close on ‘And Then There Was….‘