The London seven-piece talk chaos, care, and closing one chapter with their new EP, Plan 76.

London’s live circuit can be a brutal teacher, but for this seven-piece, it’s been the making of them. Emerging from the capital with a sound that’s “apparently quite hard to describe,” the band has carved out their own peculiar corner of modern rock. “It is essentially rock music but through some weird framing and strange lenses,” they explain.

“It can be confessional, sad or sometimes funny. Mostly it is honest and a real attempt at making interesting rock music.”

Their latest single ‘Hattrick’ is proof of that restless ambition. “Thank you! It was the hardest to complete on this EP, and upon receiving the initial demos our producer politely told us to rework it,” they say. “Hattrick bridges the gap between 75 and 76; it’s still loud and maximalist in places, but we strip back and are playful in ways we weren’t on the first record. Writing it was a long process, but ultimately it was a sequence of sections that we painstakingly stitched into this song which really should not exist, and yet, in spite of itself, does.”

That EP, Plan 76, arrives just months after its predecessor Plan 75, a decision driven less by industry logic than by momentum. “The simple answer is that we could,” they admit. “We work really hard and are constantly pushing for as many songs as possible, and it felt that Plan 75 asked more questions than it answered, so it made sense to address those before we started work on an LP. Also, it has bought us time for really nailing our next batch of material; we can kind of hide behind this release and perfect our first full length record. Which we are doing. To great effect.”

Much of that perfectionism can be traced to their producer, Balázs Altsach, who the band describe with genuine awe. “Once our songs are finished in our eyes, we take them straight to him and he comes back with these crazily ambitious arrangement ideas and helps form what the song will be in the studio setting,” they say. “Watching him work is quite daunting. Especially when you would go to bed at about 3am and, in his words, he was just going to finish ‘massaging’ the tunes before he slept, and then you would wake up around 8am and make a coffee and stroll into the control room and he was still, in his words, ‘massaging’ the tunes before a full day of tracking. In short, it was produced by magic.”

That mix of intensity and humour runs through everything they do. They’ve jokingly described their sound as “London prog,” a term that’s half self-deprecating, half sincere.

“We’ve taken inspiration from the world of prog; mainly its ambition, and I guess that naturally has slipped through our collective lens of living in the capital, hence the London part,” they explain. “In all honesty, that was a label we were rocking at the end of last year, and I guess it has stuck, but the next batch of material (beyond 76) would be hard to define as very proggy. It’s a means to an end. And that end is finding an accurate answer to the question of what music it is that we make. We do not know.”

Visually, their identity is just as thought-out, though handled with a lighter touch. “That’s all on Bill,” they say. “He takes a lot of pride in providing artistic direction. It is very much an auteur process; no one gets in the way and he’s left to do what he wants.”

If their visuals and recordings suggest meticulousness, their live reputation tells a story of scale and energy. Before even releasing a full EP, they had already played Green Man, End of the Road, and Latitude. “It showed us that (surprise, surprise) we enjoy big stages and big audiences,” they say. “It is where we want to be and those early experiences really focused us all into working towards that goal. It also taught us that our music can work in those environments, and it doesn’t need to be part of a niche scene or tucked away in pubs. That being said, we will always play in small spaces and pubs. Ultimately they are best shows.”

Thematically, Plan 76 is said to “complete the first story,” though they’re reluctant to give too much away. “It would ruin the experience if we, or mainly Joe, told all. But, without being too cryptic, it’s concerned with love and loss; and constantly plays with extremes - emotionally and instrumentally.”

That emotional range is born from a sometimes-chaotic writing process. “Joe brings most of the starting points; ideas at varying levels of completion, but normally quite a thorough sketch and we work together to make it a ‘band’ song,” they explain.

“A big part of these two records have been arrangement, and that’s what takes the longest. We can be ruthless about ideas and we’ve all had to learn how to deal with someone saying they’re not keen on something. It’s a delicate space.”

Living and playing in London has sharpened that collective edge. “London has shaped us insofar as it’s a place where you have to be incredibly ambitious to make it in the genres we aim for,” they reflect. “There’s an awful lot of good or even great bands kicking around and there is a constant feeling of flux (and gossip); you kind of know what everyone is up to, and that can be a source of impetus to push better music and outreach or sometimes it can make you feel pangs of regrettable envy. Musicians in any place should always be on the same team because, as much as people may dismiss it, they offer experiences that make human beings feel really good, and a lot of our industry uses that to extract wealth from performers and writers.”

Now, as they prepare for their biggest headline show yet at Scala, they seem both grounded and hungry. “It’s going to be our greatest show yet. We’re putting a lot of work into it so for everyone there it’ll feel like an insanely special occasion,” they promise.

“They should expect something unexpected.”

As Plan 76 draws a line under the band’s first chapter, there’s a feeling that something bigger is taking shape. They’ve built their sound through patience, humour, and an instinct for controlled chaos, and that tension between precision and unpredictability is exactly what makes them so compelling. Standing on the edge of their biggest show yet, they sound like a band who know where they’re headed, even if the joy lies in not having to define it.