With these blocks of time, there’s a distinct turning point: not long after the release of the double A-side ‘Adam & Steve’ and ‘Only Girl’, the band signed to Fiction Records - a label housing the likes of The Cure and St Vincent. After an unwitting product placement for Diet Coke, Lola admits on the change, “A big part of it is seeing how many people are backing you. Fiction is still a small team like Fat Possum was [...] They’re really good at giving us a lot of freedom. They just encourage us and point us in the direction of people who can help us do what we want to do. It feels very official… We’ve now got a team, which we haven’t really had before.” 

As a debut, ‘Cannonball’ is remarkably difficult to summarise - at times grandiose, at times intimate, but encompassing the full breadth of each of the six members’ music tastes. “We are very unintentional with things”, Lola laughs. “People think we’re trying to do this crazy mishmash, but part of this comes from getting bored with writing and wondering what we can do to make this experience more interesting.” Passing over to Vera, she states, “We all have eclectic tastes. Between us, we love Fcukers, Nick Cave, Linkin Park and Noah Kahan. It’s quite varied. We’re not like" - she puts on a faux-pretentious voice - "we only love The Beatles." Lola and Vera both concede between them, “We do all love The Beatles, to be fair”, before Vera acknowledges: “I don’t think we have a collective GOAT.” At points, it feels like moderating a conversation between the two as they bounce ideas off each other about where that creative spark comes from before Lola concludes with: “Maybe it would be better to have a streamlined thing we’re pointing at. It might make us a bit more marketable.” 

Equality in songwriting seems vital for Man/Woman/Chainsaw - each member is credited equally on every track they release. While it may seem like a huge challenge to balance so many styles in the songwriting process, they have no formula for it - “It’s kind of different every time”, Lola shrugs. As one of three vocalists in the six-piece, Vera jumps in, “Sometimes we’ll have an idea that’s almost done, show it to everyone, and it goes from there. Sometimes it’ll be much looser or malleable, or someone will have a clear idea of what they want it to sound like. On that album, we tried a lot of songwriting approaches. There was a lot that came from jamming.” Lola confesses, “'Only Girl' came from us doing a really over-the-top shoegaze jam. We got straight into the room, kind of jokingly,” before adding, “Clio then added that riff over the top of it [...] another one is 'Nosedive'. We were getting very bored and a bit stressed, because the recording date was coming up and we didn’t have enough songs. We literally picked names out of a hat and went into two groups to write two different songs, but then mashed them into one. We’ve tried it all!” 

Two of the first singles on this project - ‘Only Girl’ and ‘Nosedive’ - have quickly become fan favourites, both sprawling but in extremely different ways. This parallel is what makes the band so difficult to pin down. “When people ask us what music we play, I always just say rock music. It’s the easiest thing to say, right?” Lola states, thinking out loud, “I don’t know. When you add too many words, it gets confusing.” When the task of labelling themselves passes to Vera, she jokes, “Rock music with too many instruments, maybe? Em said that once, and it still makes me laugh”, before adding, “I don’t think we should complicate it, though. A lot of the time people decide for you what you’re making… this could be infuriating if you’re being written about in a way you wouldn’t necessarily.” She pauses for a moment, choosing her words: “If I’m sitting here saying I don’t know how to describe it, however someone else chooses to is accurate in its own right.”

Man/Woman/Chainsaw feels unique in an incredibly male-dominated scene: they’re a band of four women and two men. While this presence is vital, external labelling can sometimes reduce bands to gender rather than sound. “I don’t mind being known as a girl band or a band with girls in it,” Vera states frankly. “It’s very important to me that we have lots of women in our band; it’s one of my favourite things about playing with this group of people. But sometimes there’s a general comparison to other bands with women in that we sound nothing alike.” She pauses again, precisely choosing: “My issue isn’t with being written or spoken about, even in my personal life, with bands including women. I think it’s really important and exciting that women participate in music, and I want to be recognised in that company. But it does irk me a little bit when it’s not the same music at all. People will tell me "You really remind me of this band’" and I just think "Are you only saying that because four of us have boobs?’" Like f*ck off, seriously.” Lola laughs before she quips, “Man/Woman/Chainsaw is a band with eight boobs. That’s the title of this interview.” It’s a completely understandable statement: music shouldn't be pigeonholed or cordoned off by gender. Sensing either discomfort or worrying she’s been misinterpreted, Vera expands on her point:  “Yeah, we are similar to this band with women in it, because we’re a band with women in it. That’s awesome, but the only reason you’ve said it is because we’re girls. There’s not a musical comparison there.” With an eye-opening detour into the gender politics of music labelling from someone within the eye of the storm, Lola steers us back toward genre, admitting, “Our music probably is hard to describe, right? [...] I don’t really mind; we’re not evaluating ourselves. It’s for other people to enjoy or hate. It’s fine if you want to call us a ‘post-punk-pop-britpop-art-punk’ whatever band.” 

Returning to ‘Nosedive’, when told that the lyric “Instead of lying here restless / Wishing you’d give me a cardboard house” feels like an Adrienne Lenker lyric, “I don’t know… Emmie had written that verse, so I don’t want to speak for her,” Vera reflects, before Lola mentions, “She does love Big Thief and Adrienne Lenker, so I wouldn’t be surprised.” The respect for each other’s authorship is admirable. Vera then offers, “Initially, it was ‘lying there helpless’, and I remember asking if we could do restless instead. Billy, Emmie and I workshopped those lyrics, but the concept and theme are Emmie’s. We definitely had a Lana Del Rey thing going on there,” Interjecting, Lola muses, “All these things are so subconscious.” Expanding, Vera confesses, “I personally find it hard to toe the line of writing a song that’s emotional and niche, like how Adrienne Lenker or Lana Del Rey’s lyrics can be.” Lola admits, “The ‘cardboard house’ thing does feel quite Adrienne Lenker”, before mentioning another influence: “We were listening to LCD Soundsystem the night before. When Billy Doyle, Clio and I were writing the music, it was quite clear we were thinking about it… We wanted to do something linear that changed a little bit without changing the structure too much. Like ‘All My Friends.’’’ 

Surprisingly, Seth Evans and Margo Broom handled production duties for ‘Cannonball’, known for their work with South London noise giants Black Midi and Fat White Family. “Working with Margo and Seth was very inspiring. Margo in particular,” Vera beams. “She encouraged us to be very intentional with how we were recording, and was keen on encouraging us to think about the narrative or structure of the song. There was a lot of discussion about the song's focal point; the violin and the vocals are both lead instruments. Finding a balance between them, and considering where the listener’s ear should go for a moment in a song, was something she really wanted us to prioritise.” Changing location due to a dying laptop, Lola agrees before adding, “We found performance was as important… The structure and chords are the same. They really wanted us to emphasise the feel and meaning in the way we were playing it. Margo would make us think about things like gelling, and say, ‘It’s not there yet,’ then change the lighting in the room. They were very big on getting the feel right.” Vera elaborates: “Lola and I are the rhythm section [...] we recorded everything in the same room, and got the bass and drums down with everyone playing live. For me, that felt like working with Margo at her most passionate. We’d do a take, and she’d go, "No! Where are the f*cking dynamics we talked about? Do it again!"” She laughs before conceding, “She was right. The record sounds better for it.” It feels as if Margo focused on technical precision, while Seth focused on the songs' essence. Vera mentions, “I recorded vocals with Seth [...] I remember I had this shitty demo on my laptop that I’d recorded like a crazy person. Seth would say, "Let’s record it exactly how you did it, and you tell me what to do." He just let me do my own thing.” Lola agrees, “He’s got a good ear for melodies… he’s good to do keys, violins and vocals with.” The entire process sounds extremely good cop/bad cop, confirmed by Lola’s statement: “They balance each other out. It’s really funny.” 

With a sound as intricate as theirs, there’s an additional element to the live show: how do you go about honouring your recordings while performing them live? Lola confides, “It’s the first time we’ve recorded songs that we’ve never played live before. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel you can hear the difference between the songs on the albums we’d road-tested and the ones we worked out in the studio. It’s been an interesting challenge figuring out how to play some of these songs and have them have as much impact as when we recorded them. We’ve had quite a fun time changing some of them [...] some might have a really heavy section that it doesn’t have in the recording.” Vera reflects on one particularly challenging song: “‘Still Angry’ took ages to work out. We were in our rehearsal rooms stressing because the instores were coming up […] The version that developed came from imagining the recording didn’t exist and deciding to go again. The live version is so impactful that I wish we’d thought of it in the studio! I do love the recorded version, but it’s exciting if you come to the set and it sounds different.” She halts before joking, “If you want to see it exactly how it was recorded, then you can listen to the f*cking album.”

At the end of September, the band are embarking on their biggest tour yet, with stops at Camden’s Electric Ballroom and Brighton’s Concorde 2. With recorded tracks reimagined to fit the live experience, these shows promise more than a simple ‘shut up and play the hits.’ “What can people expect?” Vera thinks out loud, “...Fun? We’re going to play the new album, some other songs, and just have a f*cking good time.” She self-deprecatingly rolls her eyes before her next statement. “Being an artist and making the kind of music we do, the job is to facilitate good feelings. Whether that’s catharsis or fun. To me, a perfect gig is an environment where you can have a drink, chat with your friends and not have too serious a time.” Agreeing, Lola closes with, “Building up to this album, we just wanted to tour. This is going to be celebratory, and a good time.” 

Over the years, The Windmill has become mythologised as a breeding ground for some of the most interesting bands to emerge from the UK -  from Black Country New Road to The Last Dinner Party. “I was introduced to the Windmill scene in secondary school”, Vera explains. “I remember getting to play shows there and thinking ‘this is so weird.’ It’s such a pleasure and privilege to be from a city that has so many independent venues that emerging bands can play in… Even if they’re all f*cking closing down. To have some left is still cool.” Lola weighs in: “Having a stage to play as a young band, and having someone who’s going to let you come back and keep trying stuff out is so important. The main thing in those spaces is everyone’s having a great time - connecting with other people doing the same thing, or people who might be doing better but have come from the same space. It does feel like a community; it teaches you how to perform and have fun doing it.” The vitality of community and support for bands cannot be understated in a time when it is harder to break into the industry than ever. The Windmill makes even the most avant-garde seem viable. Vera reflects, “To me, it made being in a band and playing music feel so much more possible. I could watch sets on YouTube, or go to gigs and see bands that have gone on to play much bigger venues and have albums out, and it’s either the same stage or they’ve been in those same venues. It makes it feel possible to have this as a job or hobby… the best way to improve is by playing a lot, and if there’s nowhere to play, that’s an impossible task.”

With community cultivating the band, Lola and Vera seem intent on paying it forward. “The two bands we’re taking on tour - Uncle Junior and Bathing Suits - are both great bands”, Vera says. Lola adds, “Both great live bands.” Keeping it in the Windmill, Vera shouts out its latest success story, Little Grandad - Lola hops in: “They’ve just announced they’re releasing an album in January [...] I’ve heard a bit of it and it sounded very good.”

Following their UK run, their first US headlines await them:  “We did do a little bit of the States”, Lola mentions. “We did SXSW, but none of us were of legal drinking age… This will be a lot of fun, not just because of that. Going to America feels like a fairytale, even if it’s Trump’s America.” Immediately, Vera fires back, “But it’s Mamdani’s New York.” Despite the political unease of America right now, Lola recognises how far both she and the band have come: “It’s one of those silly things as a kid. You dream of what you’ll do, and it’s always doing something sick in America.” From South London to the States may sound like a rejected CBBC original, but for Man/Woman/Chainsaw, it’s a reality, and a testament to the vitality of grassroots music communities.

Keir Shields

@ke1rshields_

Image: Charlie & Charlie