“I MIGHT DIE” THE ART OF SWERVING INTERVIEW WITH CITY DOG
Brighton’s City Dog don’t just play punk they weaponise it. Their latest single, “I Might Die,” is a sonic panic attack born from a near-death motorway moment, where an 18-tonne truck nearly turned their tour into a eulogy. Instead, they turned it into a track that veers, snarls, and refuses to apologise for its chaos. I sat down with the band mid-tour to talk survival, spectacle, and whether punk still has room for political grief in a world on fire.
“I Might Die” feels like a panic attack set to punk. How did you translate a near-death motorway moment into a sonic explosion without losing emotional precision?
City Dog: Initially we could only think surface level and just kept repeating things like “we could have died” and “oh my god.” As the tour progressed, it turned into an inside joke. “f*ck it, I might die.” That line became the chorus. I wrote the verse to match the feeling and lean into it once we decided it should be a song.
Was there ever a moment post-incident where you considered pulling the plug on touring altogether, or was the instinct always to weaponise it into art?
City Dog: We counted our blessings and made it a joke. It was truly crazy, but we’re all-in on this project. Our drive is too high, we’d have had to actually die to stop. When AA told us the van wasn’t safe, we rented a Japanese people carrier and finished the tour. We weren’t going to break even, but we didn’t care.
The song has been described in your press release as “threatening to veer into the wrong lane at every turn.” Is that metaphor just about the van, or does it reflect something deeper about your creative process or personal lives?
City Dog: The press release was written to match the energy of the story. It’s literal, but it also reflects the unpredictability of everything we do.

How do you balance the adrenaline-fuelled chaos of your sound with the vulnerability of survival narratives? Is fear part of the aesthetic or the ethos?
City Dog: It’s in the lyrics. The song’s short and simple, but it finishes loud and chaotic that’s what we wanted to come across.
You’ve been championed by Clash, BBC Radio One, and Gibson. How do you stay feral and unfiltered while navigating industry validation?
City Dog: The music is the music. You don’t compromise on what you want to create. Everyone in the industry is still just people. You treat them with respect and see what happens. The person on stage isn’t you 24/7 you learn to navigate that.
The “I Might Die in Eastern Europe” tour title is both literal and theatrical. What’s the emotional landscape of performing this track night after night in unfamiliar cities?
City Dog: It’s second in the set it shows new audiences what we’re about quickly. It’s not really our trauma, just a wild experience we turned into a song we’re proud of.

Box wine and silence after a brush with death, how does humour or absurdity play into your coping mechanisms as a band?
City Dog: Like most bands, it’s vital. We’re great mates. Most of the time you’re just sat at service stations or cramped in a van waiting for soundcheck. If you don’t have a laugh, what do you have?
You’ve supported Buzzcocks and toured with Hot Wax. What have you stolen, rejected, or redefined from the legacy of punk in shaping your own voice?
City Dog: We’re mind-blown by so many bands, sounds, and shows. It’s an amalgamation of culture and art that shapes us into doing music for ourselves music we hope people can relate to and find their space in.
What does survival mean to City Dog not just physically, but artistically, emotionally, and communally?
City Dog: It’s life and death. You don’t know when you’re gonna go. It’s a relentless reminder that we all have an expiry date, and we want to pursue what we love and leave the impact we’re meant to.
If “I Might Die” is the first of three singles, what emotional or sonic terrain do the next two explore? Are we still in the van, or have we crashed into something new?
City Dog: We’re filming the next video in Eastern Europe, our first non-DIY budgeted creation, directed by our friend Polina Yakyan. It’s incredible so far. The song leans more into the world of bands like Ovlov. The next track is what we hope will be our breakout, recorded with Ben Beetham, formerly of Kid Kapichi.
As artists navigating a world on fire, how do you reconcile performing in a time when over 60,000 Palestinians have been killed, and famine is being used as a weapon? Does punk still have space for political grief?
City Dog: Punk has always been part of community, culture, and political defiance. It’s a constant seesaw of self-doubt wondering if it’s selfish to pursue music in a time of horror and genocide. We hope to use our platform justly and do our part, like anyone physically far from these atrocities.
City Dog aren’t just surviving they’re documenting the chaos with snarling precision. “I Might Die” isn’t a cry for help it’s a rallying scream, a reminder that art made in the face of collapse doesn’t have to be polished. It just has to be real. Whether they’re dodging lorries or dodging industry expectations, they’re not slowing down. They’re flooring it.
Catch them on the “I Might Die in Eastern Europe” tour. Just don’t expect them to stay in the right lane.