In the autumn of 1994, when the cosmos aligned in a way that can only be described as “questionable,” five enigmatic figures stumbled into a poorly lit shame basement — and thus, CHUB was born. Led by the fearless and occasionally coherent Boenobo, a man whose vocal prowess is only rivaled by his penchant for wearing his mind backwards, the band has since become a beacon of confusion and glory in the music world.

Boenobo, the band’s leader, singer, and primary songwriter, claims to have written much of their debut album, Everfloppin’ Nonstopper (1999), while stranded in a UFO’s gravitation elevator with nothing but suspended animation and a guide to medieval human-propulsion techniques at his disposal. This album, celebrated for its experimental use of non-silence and sporadic but likable psychotic breaks, was hailed by critics as “an aural experience that defies human comprehension and occasionally legal decency.”

The rhythm section is held down by Mig, a drummer who swears by his unconventional technique of practicing only during solar flares, and Stammi, a bassist known for his ability to tune his instrument telepathically. Together, they form the backbone of CHUB’s sound—a complex tapestry of rhythm and vibration that can be best appreciated by highly trained dolphins and compromised apes.

Atom, the keyboardist and percussionist, brings a unique flavor to the band, incorporating sounds from instruments that have been banned in 17 countries. Atom’s many fantastical contributions include the infamous “enigmatic brain slicer” solo on the unreleased track “Mellow Yellow Feathery Fellow.”

Guitarist Marco, often seen playing his instrument upside down and underwater, claims to have learned his craft from an ancient hermit who only communicated through interpretive dance. His guitar solos have been described as “transcendental” and “uniquely…um…challenging.”

In 2001, CHUB briefly dated Capitol Records, but the relationship ended due to irreconcilable differences over cricket flavors and an incident involving a goat in a recording studio. The band continues to insist that their creative indecision could not and cannot be compromised, insects and livestock be damned.

Since their inception, CHUB has remained an unpredictable force of nature, defying genre conventions and the expectations of anyone with a working knowledge of music theory. Their live performances are legendary, featuring spontaneous combustion, interpretive plasma battles, and a healthy dose of misguided swagger.

Today, CHUB remains as enigmatic as ever, working on their next album, rumored to be a concept piece about the philosophical implications of meat tenderizers. Their fans eagerly await what this band of covert miscreatns will come up with next, knowing that however it ends up, it will be very affordable and gloriously absurd.