“Wake up, wake up, the gang is storming through”, was the battle cry when Chubby and the Gang broke through the glass ceiling in a Covid scarred world in the summer of 2021. The London hardcore scene regulars grabbed the mainstream by the throat as their sophomore record ‘The Mutt’s Nuts’ garnered fawning praise from across the music intelligentsia (this publication included).
The twin punch of their debut ‘Speed Kills’ and ‘The Mutt’s Nuts’, released in quick succession during those dark pandemic years, got tongues-a-wagging at what could become the latest English punk band to emerge from the dive clubs. Led by enigmatic frontman Charlie ‘Chubby’ Manning-Walker, “the Gang” snarled about inequality, scumbag landlords and general shite-ness of a 21st century Tory-plagued Britain.
A whirlwind recording cycle followed by raucous shows, cancelled US tours and general burnout resulted in the dissolving of this iteration of the Gang but Manning-Walker has pressed on. While the faces behind the mustachioed frontman on stage have changed, his vision has remained laser-focused.
Manning-Walker does the lot on their third record ‘And Then There Was…’, writing and performing the entirety of this 16-track epic. While Chubby’s first two records were kick-the-door-off-its-hinges punk, this is a much more refined effort, taking inspiration from a myriad of genres from rock and roll and doo-wop to the familiar treads of hardcore.
The opening two tracks – ‘Neither The Day, Nor The Hour’ and ‘There’s A Devil In The Jukebox’ – pick up where ‘The Mutt’s Nuts’ left off. They’re fast, furious and full of ripping solos but by the time we’re a couple songs, this is where the “newish” Chubby gets up. ‘The Bonnie Banks’ is a bopping, country-inspired love song where Manning-Walker swoons “hold me in your arms as we sway on the banks of the Thames, praying on better days”.
We’re back on familiar ground with the rampaging ‘Anticop’ and ‘Trepanning’ but it’s not until ‘Company I Don’t Want To Keep’ when Manning-Walker whips out the Hammond organ where he starts to flex his creativity. It’s a track that could’ve been plucked out of the 1970s punk heyday, echoing favourites like Dr Feelgood but with the signature snarl that Chubby and the Gang has been known for.
The chugging ‘A Lust For More’ and ‘Wish You Were Here’ has all the hardcore variances of contemporaries Fucked Up while The Ramones-esque ‘To Be Young’ is as close to a made-for-radio track you could ever expect from this band. It’s an excellent two-minute burst romanticising the innocence and ignorance of knowing not a thing about life when you’re a 17-year-old pup.
Manning-Walker has a penchant for ending his records with a poignant ballad. ‘Speed Kills’ had ‘Grenfell Forever’, ‘The Mutt’s Nut’s’ had ‘Life’s Lemons’ and even The Chisel’s ‘Retaliation’ – in which he plays guitar – had ‘Will I Ever See You Again?’ but ‘Cocaine Sunday’ is his opus.
This beautiful, heart-breaking piano-led number sees Manning-Walker channeling his inner Shane MacGowan to produce the most vulnerable song he’s written thus far. It’s the song of the beaten soul at the end of the bar who doesn’t know where his life will turn once he sees the Guinness logo at the bottom of this glass. It’s a stream of consciousness, lamenting on bad choices and lost love, lyrics delivered like a gut punch with each word.
“I’ve always been a criminal I won’t see no pearly gates, careful who you love once they go they ain’t coming back”, Manning-Walker croons as a mournful harmonica bar plays over the trembling piano keys. It’s a stunning ending to a record that has seen Manning-Walker change the conversation around the Chubby and the Gang, it’s a song you never see coming and, if you’re not on guard, will have your tear ducts swelling.
“And Then There Was…” is not the Chubby and the Gang you’ll be expecting, it’s somehow much better than that.
TOM WALSH