The heaviest indie band on earth.
Described as everything from post-rock to post-metal, shoegaze to doom, none of these labels fully capture the sound that Sugar Horse produce. Formed in 2015, the band - comprising Ashley Tubb (vocals/guitar), Jake Healy (baritone guitar/keyboards), Chris Howarth (bass), and Martin Savage (drums) - trade in a heady mix of crushing distortion, thunderous volume, and introspective, emotional rawness. Their wildly unpredictable approach has made them one of the most intriguing bands to emerge from the UK underground in a long time.
The band’s sound thrives on contrast: towering walls of fuzz and distortion are balanced with moments of delicate quietude and haunting vocal melodies. Unlike many of their contemporaries, Sugar Horse don’t position themselves as purveyors of technical time-signature wizardy or flashy arpeggiated solos, but as architects of atmosphere and imposing walls of noise. Their 2024 sophomore album, The Grand Scheme of Things, explores grief on a massive sonic scale. Recorded in a church for its cavernous reverb, the album balances its immense heaviness with stark melodic clarity and emotional vulnerability. For a band associated with such niche and experimental scenes as post-rock, post-metal, and math-rock, their ability to write palatable anthems is striking.
By eschewing complex time signatures, intricate guitar solos, and virtuosic drum fills, they stand apart from many of their peers, focussing instead on the sheer power of creating a visceral, physical experience for audiences. The force of the volume hits you right in the chest, overwhelming you in an inescapable storm of distortion. Combined with the emotional gravity of the themes being explored - grief, loss, and existential dread - this physical intensity mirrors the true weight of devastating emotions, channeling visceral pain into an experience that is truly resonant. This is an accurate artistic representation of what it is to be consumed by grief. It is not tender, it is not soft, and it does not attempt to offer comfort, but it is cathartic. Like strong emotions, their music is violent, physical, and all-encompassing.
Their music sits in the tradition of super-loud pioneers like My Bloody Valentine, Swans, and Sunn O))), but they diverge by incorporating something new: genuine songwriting. These aren’t sprawling experimental noise pieces or endless feedback loops, but concise, thoughtful songs, fusing their heavy tendencies within the structure of a four-minute pop track. It’s this rare balance which makes Sugar Horse one of the most intriguing and powerful live acts in Britain today.
We spoke to frontman Ashley Tubb about the band’s evolution, their pursuit of emotional and physical intensity, and the contrasts that define Sugar Horse:
The Grand Scheme of things marks a very clear shift to more concise song-writing compared to your earlier work. What informed that decision?
Boredom honestly. We don’t like to do the same thing for too long and we’d done the kind of endless Space Rock thing quite a bit by the time it came to writing this record. So we decided to make things more difficult for ourselves. Our songs are so slow, they tend to get into the 3-minute mark before we’ve even hit the second chorus, so condensing them into more traditional Pop lengths seemed like a big challenge....and I enjoy a challenge!
Can you talk about the process of trying to capture such an intense experience as grief in music?
In As I Lay Dying, Faulkner writes about peoples’ lives “ravel[ing] out” before them, through time. That’s kind of what grief feels like to me. Like a coil that starts out shocking, taught and hot, but over time it ravels out. It cools down, relaxes and starts to become entwined with the rest of your life, rather than staying a separate entity.
We had the vast majority of the record written before my dad had actually died, so it’s mostly the lyrics that are inflected with it really. I know the first few songs were kind of intense to get down. It just feels so extreme that it’s almost a kind of ecstatic, religious feeling in a way and you can totally read that in the words to ASMR and Corpsing, but as I got deeper into the record focus started to shift to different areas. Like, just putting together materials for Dad’s funeral showed me so much stuff I had no idea had happened to him, or he’d gone through and a lot of rage came from that honestly. I mean, my Dad had a relatively comfortable life in the grand scheme of things (cough), but certain specific things he had to deal with drove me down some roads that you can hear in Mulletproof and Spit Beach. Eventually all of this heat dissipates into a kind of tranquil sadness and the quieter moments towards the end of the record totally encapsulate that.
I guess all that blathering on could be summed up by saying that the stages folks talk about aren’t just hyperbole.
You seem to like recording in churches. Not a fan of plug-ins?
Honestly, I’m yet to find a plug in that will make a drum kit accurately sound like it was recorded in a big space. Once I do, I’ll be happy, as it’ll save us a lot of time and energy!
In reality, recording in a weird space is fun. We like doing it a lot. Musical recordings in which the room plays a substantial part are nearly always the best - for music derived from a kind of live band scenario anyway - and what better live setting than a big, vibey hall.
Do you have any key influences when it comes to this juxtaposition of crushing heaviness and surprising moments of beauty?
I think the surprise is key there. Regardless of something being heavy or not, I like art that surprises me. Stuff that wades into areas that you don’t expect.
That’s essentially what we’re trying to do with the juxtaposition, albeit in a ham-fisted way. We’re just trying to surprise the listener with every new section. We like being unpredictable in every sense, if we can possibly help it.
As far as direct influences go, there are kinda obvious ones when it comes to music like Mogwai and Slint, but there are also some films that kinda do it as well, like the July Garland Wizard of Oz film and a masterpiece of cinema called Stalker by a Russian fella called Andrei Tarkovsky. Both of them feature a sudden, and breathtaking switch from pure monochrome to psychedelic technicolour. I kinda see our music darting between monochrome and technicolour a lot.....granted this is some of the most pretentious shit I’ve ever said (or in this case, typed while admittedly whincing).
What’s with the song titles? They’re so funny, but the music really isn’t...
Well, I’d kinda argue the music has a bunch of funny sections in it to be honest, but I tend to find really, boneheaded heavy stuff quite naturally funny anyway. We honestly tend to gauge how good a heavy bit is, by how silly it sounds to us.
That being said, I understand that there’s a bit of a disconnect between the music itself and the names of the tunes. Honestly, we just don’t like to take ourselves too seriously. There’s a danger with heavier music of becoming incredibly pofaced and stern. We’d never be able to keep the charade up all the time, so song titles are a bit of a remedy to that. It’s essentially just having our cake, eating it and shitting it back out.
Can you tell us why massive volume is such an important aspect of your live show?
Well, first of all it’s fun innit. Shows are always good when they’re louder and the louder they are, the more fun they become....although judging by folks that have left our shows in the past, there could be a point of diminishing returns that’s about 20dB lower than how loud we play.
In all seriousness though, volume makes people pay attention. I think it’s kind of an instinctual fight or flight response thing. When something is shockingly loud, your brain kind of refuses to concentrate on anything else. It’s just you and whatever is making that sound. That focus can get really hypnotic after a while and we really like forcing that kind of decibel hypnosis upon people that come and see us.
I would say, I strongly encourage people to wear ear plugs who come see us though. It’s supposed to be a physical experience, but it isn’t supposed to cause you lasting damage.
How has living in Bristol influenced your sound and ethos as a band?
Bristol is, first and foremost, populated by good folks. The folks are the people that have influenced us most and I don’t think most of our tunes would exist without the stupid/profound chats I’ve had with people I’ve met/befriended in Bristol over the years.
Secondly, Bristol prides itself on originality. Copycat art is not welcome in our city and folks will rip the piss out of you big time for wholesale ripping off another band. That pressure tends to lead to good stuff.
How connected do you feel to scenes like Doom Metal and Post Rock? Are genre labels a waste of time?
I’m gonna be a bit contrary here and say I quite like genre labels....I think the best art is made by people that have been confined - either by self inflicted confinement, or confinement by critic - to a particular style, with set parameters. The interesting shit then happens in the fucking-with of said parameters. The stuff that’s really interesting finds interesting ways to move around, or push out of very set limitations and I think that genre can provide those limitations.
As far as Doom Metal and Post Rock go, I think we fit alongside those kinda bands I s’pose. We certainly listen to a bit of that stuff, but I wouldn’t say any of us identify as heads of those particular genres. We just kinda listen to the maddest examples I reckon. Artists that are navigating those genres in interesting ways. In truth, we like anything if it’s weird, or interesting. Regardless of the actual sound.
What is the ultimate goal of Sugar Horse?
The only real goal is to make music and art that we think is vital....and to have a general laugh. We’ve got no interest in not doing things entirely on our own terms. Say that, we’re not naive. We know that taking that road means this band will probably never be a “career”. Honestly, I don’t really care. I’m not sure who decided that making a living from art should be the ultimate aim, because it seems kind of unnecessary. I’m at peace with keeping my art and my bills completely separate. As long as we can keep making weird little bits of pop music and a couple dozen people will be interested enough to allow us to not lose a pit of money doing so, that’s good enough for me.
This is a band that never seems content standing still, consistently refusing to give us what we expect. What directions are you think of exploring next?
There’s definitely another hard left turn on the horizon haha! I won’t give the game away too much, but I will say it will be “quicker”. We wanna slightly move away from the slowness of our previous material and into something that’s a bit more energetic. We’re listening to a lot of Industrial, Techno, Dance Punk and Krautrock records at the moment. Those will probably translate somewhat into future music, but beyond that I shall keep the mystery alive somewhat. I’m sure it’ll confuse and alienate people at the very least hahaha!