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Fat Dog and the evolution of indie sleaze
Skinny jeans and colour blocking may have gone, but the spirit of the sweaty gig lives on
“Not a phone in sight, everyone enjoying the moment” has become the favourite snarky remark that sits underneath videos of artists performing to fans, who themselves seem intent on capturing the moment digitally en-masse. The battle to reclaim the human ‘you had to be there’ essence of live music is being fought by artists including everyone from Phoebe Bridgers to Jack White, both of whom have banned phones in recent shows. Somewhere in the trenches, poking a white cowboy hat above the parapet, South London band Fat Dog are fighting a different battle and winning with the accidental aplomb of someone who’s turned up to gunfight expecting a thumb war and still manages to win.
The band’s live shows are a sweaty swirl of mosh pits, crowd interaction, and impressively few signs of smartphone surveillance (it is still 2026 and the genie is out of the bottle, after all). It has the feel of something more true of the hallowed indie sleaze era, but without the unmistakable look or sound of the 2010s. Fat Dog are taking the subculture forward, all the while clearly bearing the soul of indie sleaze 1.0.
Photo by Roberto Panucci – Corbis/Corbis via Getty Images
To describe indie sleaze at its apex feels a bit like the millennial music equivalent of older generations’ glassy-eyed nostalgia for a time when you could supposedly leave your door unlocked as crime was at 0% and ill will simply didn’t exist. Digital cameras were the most exciting technological advancement, American Apparel and Topshop were at the cutting edge of fashion, and music was discovered through blogs, MySpace and local scenes, not algorithms. Skins was essential viewing for teenagers everywhere and block colour hoodies were the epitome of chic.
Electronic music was punk. Punk was electronic. Bands were fronted by huge personalities and effortlessly cool icons like Karen O, while Pete Doherty and Kate Moss were at the centre of the crossover between fashion, music and whatever the tabloids dredged up – such was indie sleaze’s relevance and power. Depending on whether you leaned into the electroclash of Klaxons, Late of the Pier and MGMT or the more trad indie of Arctic Monkeys, The Vaccines and The Strokes, live shows were a jumble of skinny jeans, neon, fringes and eyeliner. Either way, it was a messy night of the best sorts.
Photo by Anthony PIdgeon/Redferns
Obviously, nostalgia isn’t a reliable narrator. The phrase indie sleaze itself wasn’t coined until a few years ago, and neatly packages an era that was far more complicated. For all the thrill of the subculture, it also carries a less impressive legacy that circles a pre-‘Me Too’ era, questionable diversity, and a normalisation of substance misuse that had fatal consequences for some of the artists it revered.
When the turnover of trends came knocking for indie sleaze, it hasn’t been a total copy and paste. Take Fat Dog. Formed during the pandemic, the band quickly picked up buzz that reached a crescendo around 2023, all thanks to their “disco-Armageddon” live shows, and all before releasing an official record.
Playing the kind of sweaty backroom venues that have been diminishing since the indie sleaze heyday, Fat Dog faced off with the crowd in latex dog masks, cowboy hats, deadpanning “Woof woof woof” to them. Pair that with their sound of techno-punk that’s rolled around in the dirt of other genres as vast as klezmer and dance, their surreal lyrics that tick off subjects like a man covering himself in Vaseline and becoming a slug deity (‘King of the Slugs’).
Finally, throw in the kind of fizz that surpasses playlists and phone screens, and it’s unsurprising that Fat Dog quickly sold out venues and became the must-see live band. The whole fare had a post-apocalyptic indie sleaze energy that could only exist under the specific circumstances of a post-technology, post-skinny jeans resurgence.
Fat Dog aren’t the only ones evolving the genre. The Dare is essentially Gen Z’s Calvin Harris, and it was Charli xcx who brought him to the forefront when they collaborated on her now-iconic Brat album. Charli herself has been front and centre of reminding everyone how fun the club is and that sometimes a messy night bumpin’ that is better than an early night in and making it for a run in the morning.
Keeping the equilibrium between dance and guitars that was so essential the first time round, US band Geese have taken up the mantle as the indie band beloved by critics and fans on both sides of the pond, with sold-out shows and the surest 2020s sign that you’re A Big Thing – viral videos of them performing their most zeitgeisty song ‘Au Pays Du Cocaine’ in the pouring rain. “I put my feet up for a bit, let AI write a hit,” Fat Dog sarcastically reckon on their latest song ‘Cancel Me (I’m Tired)’.
Perhaps it’s the stodgy way the likes of AI, algorithms and curation have inserted themselves into the music industry over the last couple of decades, or perhaps it’s the natural turnover of trends and human desire. Either way, a new wave of disruption, incredible live artists, and messiness can only be a good thing when it comes to music. Call it indie sleaze 2.0 if you like, we’re too busy trying to shoulder our way to the front row.
Photo by Martyn Goodacre/Redferns
