Man/Woman/Chainsaw is a London-based group comprising vocalist/guitarist Billy Ward, vocalist/bassist Vera Leppänen, vocalist/keyboardist Emmie-Mae Avery, violinist Clio Harwood, and drummer Lola Cherry. Ward and Leppänen have been playing together since they met in secondary school, enlisting a rotating cast of players and celebrating their 100th gig before even releasing their debut EP, Eazy Peazy, earlier this month on Fat Possum. Following a series of singles beginning with September 2022’s ‘Any Given Sunday’, which introduced the band’s scrappy yet sweepingly chaotic sound, the 6-track collection was recorded with Gilla Band’s Daniel Fox, who’s worked on similarly experimental, post-punky records by Sprints and Silverbacks. With their line-up solidified, Eazy Peazy serves as an exhilarating showcase of a band not only toeing but exalting in the line between cacophonous and epic arrangements: ‘Ode to Clio’ is the perfect summation of their sound and the centerpiece of the EP, which softens and erupts in different directions on each end. With so many musical voices colliding, however, you can hardly imagine Man/Woman/Chainsaw’s style converging toward any kind of middle ground; even as their dynamic settles, their ambition is only to keep evolving and ripping it open.
We caught up with Man/Woman/Chainsaw’s Billy Ward, Vera Leppänen, and Lola Cherry for the latest edition of our Artist Spotlight series to talk about their dynamic as a group, making Eazy Peazy, their approach to songwriting, and more.
You released the live performance video at the George Tavern the day Eazy Peazy came out. What was it like to play the EP front-to-back in that context?
Billy Ward: It was fun. It was a really hot day.
Vera Leppänen: It kind of felt like a gig with nobody there. Actually, there were loads of people, a whole team. [laughs] It was really weird. But it was funny to see the George, a venue we know quite well at this point, in a different context. The backdrop that Tom made was really cool, it felt like it tied in nicely with the visuals of the rest of the EP. There was a bit of pressure since it was one take, and it had to be good, but it was really fun. It was super sweaty that day.
BW: We were doing it in one take, but we had to do the show that evening and pack down the whole venue. By the end of the afternoon, it got to a point where we were like, “This is our last shot to do it, so we might as well make it fun.” We were hot and bothered by that point, but I think that added to the energy of it.
I like the unedited aspect of it. There’s a kind of false start before the title track…
VL: Yeah, that starts with a drum roll.
Lola Cherry: That happens more often than you’d think.
VL: I think that’s part of the fun, because when we play a live show, we’re a shitshow very often. [laughs]
LC: I remember counting, like, “1, 2, 3 – oh, sorry, one second!” And then everyone just starts laughing. But it’s fine, it’s fun. If you mess up, no one gives a shit – also no one notices, most of the time. It just makes you seem a bit more human.
How have you noticed the songs changing the more you perform them? Do you see gigs as a chance to show how they’ve evolved after the release?
BW: Actually, the point they change the most is over the first few times we play them, the first few months of playing a song. I think that’s why some of the structures might feel a bit weirder, like ‘Ode to Clio’ being jumbled together because it wasn’t quite working for a while. But once we record the songs, they’re recorded pretty true to the live versions. Recording kind of freezes them in time – you have that document to refer back to. They don’t change much after recording, except that they become tighter live.
LC: Yeah, I hope so. I mean, we were in the room last week, and we were doing completely new stuff. It just felt so easy. Being in a band and trying to do it in a proper way – the expectation is that you’re good at what you do. But I guess we’re still new and figuring each other out. It’s only really started to get easier and easier.
Did it surprise you that it was easier? How exactly did it feel different from before?
LC: I don’t know. It almost feels like we’re working as one rather than making an effort to fit together.
BW: Especially after the shows this summer, I think just by merit of having played so many – we’re just so used to moving as one in the live shows. As a band, we know each other, we respond to each other more naturally now than we have in the past.
If you’re the one introducing a song idea to the group, is there still the same kind of vulnerability as in the beginning? Or is that something you also feel like you’ve developed together?
VL: I feel like it’s less awkward, or “camera shy” is the only way I can put it. I always feel a bit nervous when showing new material – doesn’t matter if it’s to my friends or to the band. But I think it only gets easier; the more you do it, the more comfortable you get.
BW: I always feel really shy. The first time I’m showing a song, I feal really shy, and that’s when you guys always say, “Don’t mumble, just read me the words!”
VL: He’s playing the guitar louder than he’s singing!
BW: I know, I know. When I’m first showing it, I like to hide behind that because I feel self-conscious. Also, it’s good when everyone’s focusing, because all our attention spans are quite short.
LC: We’re like an annoying group of kids, it’s so irritating!
BW: I know! I’ll be showing the band something I’ve been putting together, and someone will be on their phone, like, “Sorry, can you play that again?” And I’m like, “[thumbs up] Oh, cheers.”
LC: [laughs] I actually accidentally recorded a moment like that where everyone was being so annoying.
BW: It’s fine, I know it’ll all come together in the end. Also, if I write stuff that’s good enough, it’ll get someone to look up from their phone.
You played a lot of shows when you were young. Was there a specific show that you went to early on that made you feel like, That’s what I want to do?
LC: For me, it was just most shows. Anytime I saw a show, I was like, “That’s what I want to do.”
BW: When I was younger, before I was even really playing guitar – in 2018, so I was 14 – I saw Shame on their first album tour in Kentish Town. And it blew my mind. I was so impressionable, and they were probably around 19 then. It was all young people everywhere, and the energy was crazy. It was fun, they were cool, and Charlie Steen was hot. That really got me. Obviously, there have been so many shows since that have more actively inspired me in terms of what I’m doing with my guitar or singing. But that show was a big moment for me when I was young.
VL: I don’t know if I have a specific one, either. I think I always knew I wanted to do music-y stuff. For a while, I wasn’t sure if that’s performance, and I’m still not totally sure, but I’m stuck in it now, so whatever. [laughs] I remember being in primary school, and they asked everyone what their dream career was when we were about 11. All the boys said they wanted to be footballers, and I remember I said I wanted to be an author because I was too embarrassed to admit I wanted to be a singer.
LC: That is so sweet.
VL: I grew up around music, so it just seemed like the obvious thing to do.
Were you drawn to the songwriting aspect of it at the time?
VL: I only started writing songs when I was about 12 or 13.
Lola Cherry: That’s not only – that’s quite young!
VL: I’d write songs with my friends or cousins, but I never saw it as…
BW: When I met you, I was really struck by your songwriting, because you really seemed like you really knew how to use words.
VL: Which is so weird because I still don’t know how to do that. I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it.
LC: You’re really good.
BW: I’ve always admired your thing for words, personally.
VL: That’s sweet, y’all. I also thought I was really edgy and interesting when I was 14, reading my Leonard Cohen poetry. Every teenager – teenage girl, especially – feels exactly the same; I think everyone goes through the phase of feeling so “different” from everyone else.
What about the performance side of it?
VL: My mom put me in dance classes and musical theatre classes when I was young, so I think I’ve probably always wanted to do that. But I think rock music is cooler than musical theatre, so.
BW: That’s the quote.
VL: You know what movie came out today? Wicked, and I’m super fucking excited.
BW: Damn, when are you – I wanna go.
LC: Can we do it around Christmas time? When is it on until?
VL: I don’t know, I said I’d go with my housemate.
Is that what it’s like trying to coordinate rehearsals?
VL: Oh my god, it’s ridiculous!
LC: You know what it is a lot? It’s usually Billy asking people in the group chat, and then you can see that everyone’s seen it, but no one replies. But that’s not our dynamic at all.
BW: I know, I know. When we’re in the room, it’s fine. It’s a group chat, I don’t reply if someone’s like, “Hey.”
VL: It is six people that have a band, and many of them have a job or university, or job and university. And it’s like, “Girl, there’s no fucking time for this,” which really is my main priority, but also, I really need to pay my rent.
What was it about this structure – of instruments, but also people – that made you feel like the group had solidified?
BW: Maybe it’s the people, I don’t know.
LC: Before I joined the band, I subbed for the other drummer quite a few times. You guys were playing around a lot with really big lineups, doing the Chainsaw orchestra thing, and then not. I think it was the ‘Any Given Sunday’ single release at the George Tavern – there were a bunch of people there, and that’s where Clio came in, too. I was on bongos, I think. That’s when we were all in the room together for the first time, and it turned out I replaced the drummer.
VL: I think it depends on, yes, the people – and also, when you have a group of 4 to 10 people in a room, it’s the ones that keep coming. Not everyone is going to care about the band or want to be in a band; it’s the people that stay interested that stay in the band.
BW: In terms of arrangement, we always had that core of two guitars, bass, drums, two singers. Adding keys to a rock band feels like a natural expansion, and the violin is like a lead guitarist or a horn player, something that sits over the top.
VL: Also, me, Emmie, and Billy, we’ve been pals the longest. We’ve known Emmie since we were 14. She’s someone we know super well and have played with many times – it’s obvious.
LC: But being in a band together is like a fast track to a very close friendship. We’re around together so often, we’re in tight spaces, and it’s great.
Lola, what was your impression of what Billy and Vera were doing when you joined?
LC: The first time I saw them play was at Dublin Castle in Camden.
VL: You were there?
LC: Yeah, I saw that one. Your stage presence was awesome. I was like, “Oh, these guys are my age but seem very confident.” When I actually joined, a lot of my feelings were more about feeling insecure about my own thing rather than other people, but I just thought they were really talented and cool. I wasn’t used to playing any specific kind of music because I was mostly doing grade stuff and musical theatre for school plays. Probably my style is rock drumming.
VL: Yeah, you’re so loud, bro.
BW: When you first started, it was more like the music you listened to, kind of new soul-y.
LC: Definitely. That was my favorite kind of thing to play, super chill.
VL: You would never know that from you now.
LC: But I remember playing in this really weird punk thing with you and Emmie, and I was trying to keep up. I was sweating so much in that rehearsal room, and I was like, “I actually don’t think I can my hands can go that fast.” But I’ve developed so much since actually being in a band. Playing with people is amazing – it’s the best thing ever. Playing drums by yourself – what’s the point of that? Practicing is great, but you don’t play the drums to play the drums in a room by yourself for the rest of your life.
How do you feel like your dynamic has evolved since, especially in terms of how you work and communicate with each other during rehearsals?
VL: We are just good pals first and foremost. But also, working with friends in a professional setting is kind of weird. In some ways, it makes things harder because it’s easier to goof off and not take things seriously.
LC: We’re laughing all the time.
BW: Arguments can be taken more personally.
VL: But it’s also really positive. I feel more comfortable working with you guys than with any other musical project I’ve ever been in.
LC: I feel like we’re at a level where it’s more than just friendship. Obviously, it’s because we’re working together as well. But we can beef, we can bicker, and it’s fine. We’re able to just get on and just do stuff.
BW: Also, I think now we have a clearer idea of what we want stylistically. Not that genre is super important when we’re writing, but we’re really focused on a project now, and our songs are in one clump of songs. We know the kind of pocket of sound we want instead of everything being a stab in the dark in a different direction. We’re a bit more sure of ourselves with what we’re writing. We’re not entirely throwing shit at all the walls to see what sticks; we’ve figured out what sticks, and we’re kind of continually throwing shit at that wall.
You’ve described that sound as toeing the line between pretty and noisy. How do you feel you’ve learned to make space for those different ends of your sound?
BW: I guess now it’s less a matter of pretty and noisy; it’s more a matter of just arrangement, dynamics, and mood within a song. There will definitely be pretty moments and noisy moments when we’re writing, but it’s about using those contrasts for nuance instead of just being like, “Now we’re gonna go fucking loud, and now we’re gonna go really quiet.”
LC: So, now our loud isn’t just about all of us playing as loud as we can individually. There’s so many of us, it’s such a dense wall of sound anyway, especially when you’re on stage playing to an audience.
BW: Yeah, one synth can be lower than everyone. Like in ‘Ode to Clio’, the loudest part is the drum break between the last two choruses, where it’s just fuzzy bass and drums –that part really jumps out. That’s why a three-piece rock band will sound louder – your ear really picks up on that one thing. If everything is gross, nothing’s gross.
LC: If everything’s loud, nothing’s loud.
As a drummer, Lola, do you feel like you have a different kind of leverage in how or what kind of loud a song is going to be? Your drumming on the title track is a huge part of what makes it so explosive.
LC: In my early days as a drummer, I only knew one dynamic, and that was as loud as I could play. But maybe I hold a bit of pressure on myself, especially when we’re together figuring out songs, to come up with some super original part, which I’ve not let go of a bit. Because you don’t want everything happening at once. ‘The Boss’ is a good example of that: the bit in the verse is not overly complicated, it just paradiddles between cymbals.
BW: It’s actually a really weird drum part. It’s weird for the listener.
LC: Yeah. In the beginning, I remember starting with something really simple, which is usually how I start. And then comes a halftime section, which people are always like, “Wow, your drumming on that bit!” But I’m just playing something super simple, loud and trashy. But because of everything else, it does feel like the drums are really carrying that part of the song, especially with the subs underneath. Doing something that sounds complicated, but actually the core of it is quite simple – that’s fun.
BW: I’m with you on that. I’m trying to write really simple guitar parts, especially if I’m singing. But even in general, no one gives a shit what your hands are doing on a record.
‘Sports Day’ is one of my favorite songs on the EP, and it’s interesting how it’s juxtaposed with the rest of the songs. Billy, as someone who shares lyrical duties in the band, do you think about how your lyrical voice or perspective works alongside Vera’s or Emmie’s?
BW: ‘Sports Day’ is an interesting example because, in my writing now, I’m really trying to match Vera’s thing, or write songs that can contain themselves, enduring outside of the big arrangements. That’s what people respond to: well-written, thought-out lyrics that tell a story, and I like telling a story. I think ‘Sports Day’ does that, but it’s a bit more scattered. When we first started out, I wasn’t a songwriter, and ‘Sports Day’ was one of the first songs that had a clear verse and chorus structure. But also, it was written in a tongue-in-cheek, humorous way.
LC: You’re doing that to protect yourself a little bit.
BW: And actually, it’s quite a vulnerable song about being insecure and those funny adolescent memories of feeling not quite… It’s kind of about queerness and not understanding it quite, really. But for me, the way to do that was to make a slightly silly, blown-out thing. Now, I feel more comfortable in my own skin and more confident in my writing. I can just let my heart sit more plainly on my sleeve.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.
Man/Woman/Chainsaw’s Eazy Peazy is out now via Fat Possum.