The Bug Club are Wales’ weirdest and most productive new band

“T“The mornings are nice before things get too serious,” says Sam Willmett, guitarist and singer of The Bug Club, his words pouring out like ten little shrugs. “You can get up and bang out a song or two or something.”

But can you? Did you drum up a song or two this morning or something? Did you stand there with toast crumbs in the corner of your mouth and conjure up an indie pop hit that might get you signed to Sub Pop?

“I always feel like a complete idiot when I say this, but I usually make myself a nice hot cup of tea and then try to destroy (a song) in one go,” Willmett continues, before his co-writer, bassist and singer Tilly Harris interrupts him devastatingly: “The arrogance that arrogance.” They burst into laughter before Willmett recovers and says, “It’s not even really intentional.”

The beauty of it, of course, is that The Bug Club’s music retains that low-stakes energy: their songs have a wonderful immediacy, and their melodies hum with a kind of aimless brilliance that can’t be faked. There’s nothing grand about their work output, no sign of showing off. They’re just people making stuff up because they enjoy making stuff up.

“Don’t even think about it, just do it. Whatever comes out is probably the best thing you could do anyway” – Tilly Harris

Having been writing together since school, The Bug Club formed in 2016 in Caldicot, a market town between Chepstow and Newport in south Wales. They released their first single amid the void of the pandemic and haven’t stopped since. Last year, as well as playing hundreds of shows, they released two records – one a live album by a made-up group they invented to fund touring, the other a 47-track odyssey called Rare Birds: Hour of Song, which they compared to south Wales’ Double Nickels On The Dime.

“If we couldn’t write and arrange songs at home, I’d go a little crazy,” Harris adds. “It’s nice to have a bit of structure. Oddly enough, on tour there’s a lot of structure and you get into a good routine. And then when you’re home, all that goes away.”

In August, The Bug Club will return with another new LP. Compared to their previous album, On The Intricate Inner Workings Of The System… is lean and mean. Recorded with Tom Rees of Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard at his Rat Trap Studio in Cardiff, the 11 songs are bursting with succinct melodies and fun, pop-culture-infused lyrics – they reference The great escapeOne minute it’s Virgil Hilts, the next it’s the horror of Lonsdale slip-on daps – but in less than 26 minutes they’re out again. Zero fat.

“Our drummer (Dan Matthew) left, so we’ve got a couple of friends playing with us at the moment,” says Willmett. “They always tell us the bars are weird, they’re all half-measures. But that’s the point where they got shortened because they got boring.”

The record balances pounding garage rock for short attention spans with Guided By Voices-style offbeat pop made for belting along with your weird mates. Considering all this, it’s no surprise that during a trip to the US in 2023, Bug Club caught the attention of the folks at Sub Pop, the Seattle label that reshaped modern rock as the steward of Nirvana, Mudhoney and Soundgarden, then started all over again in the early 2000s with the Shins et al.

That history might weigh on some bands, leaving a mark on records that follow a dramatic change in the profile and circumstances of their creators. But you realise the idea is ridiculous after spending a few minutes talking music with Willmett and Harris. On The Intricate Inner Workings Of The System… would exist with or without the Sub Pop logo under the cellophane, which, one would assume, was the reason the label was interested in the band in the first place.

“I think it should be a no-brainer to do things,” says Harris. “Don’t even think about it, just do it. Whatever comes out of it is probably the best thing you could have done anyway.”

“On The Intricate Inner Workings Of The System…” by Bug Club will be released on August 30th via Sub Pop