Back of the van. Spirits high. Miles to go. The Orchestra (For Now) - the seven-headed hydra of cello, violin, guitars, drums, piano and deeply dramatic vibes - are en route from a run of festivals when we pin them down. “It is us,” they announce. And it really is: one of London’s most peculiar, exhilarating bands on the rise.

Made up, in their words, of resident rock star Erin Snape (cello), prodigal son Charlie Hancock (drums), mafioso Neil Francis Thomson (guitar), new kid on the block Millie Anna Kirby (bass), the one who waits Lingling Bao-Smith (violin), golden boy Bill Bickerstaff (guitar), and Joe Scarisbrick (vocals, piano, and mortal enemy of wasps), The Orchestra (For Now) have built their reputation with ferocious determination. So far, they’ve sold out Rough Trade exclusives, dominated festival main stages, and somehow turned the ICA into a baroque-prog funhouse. Not bad for a band who, not long ago, were just dreaming this all up over a post-rehearsal pint.

Their debut EP, 'Plan 75', was all urgency and intent. “It was something we needed to get out,” they tell us. “There was a lot of urgency in the songwriting and production. It was our first step in creating the world we want to build.”

That world expands again with 'Plan 76', due 31st October. “It ties up the first phase of our band,” they explain. “It completes our first story. The two EPs can be considered one body of work. It places personal stories in these weird and extreme, and sometimes imaginary settings. It is incredibly confessional but purposefully cryptic.”

Cryptic, yes, but not inaccessible. On lead single 'Hattrick', the band are darker, stranger, and more saturated than ever. There’s a ritualistic bath. A forest full of organs. A goblin bartender. And that’s just the video. Sonically, it’s all there: chaos, restraint, collapse, and catharsis. “It helps bridge the gap from '75' to '76', both thematically and sonically,” they say. “It’s a song of extremes, and it sets the highest and lowest points of the record. Also, lyrically, it reintroduces and expands a lot of the themes and poses a lot of questions about what is to follow once the full EP is out. As with most things, it’s a stab in the dark.”

The band describe their sound as “essentially rock music. Just through all these weird and varied lenses.” They’ve been called baroque indie, post-punk, jazz-freakout — which feels both fitting and deeply inadequate. They don’t seem too concerned. “Music classification is funny. Who knows... We take pride in the fact that it’s somewhat hard to pin down. So much so, we don’t even really know what’s going on genre-wise. Help us!”

If 'Plan 75' was a maximalist explosion, 'Plan 76' lets a little air in. “We built sonically on our first record by attempting to really strip back in places and expose ourselves a bit more,” they explain. “There are really tender moments that pull away and let the songs breathe.” It’s also where they feel they’ve finally cracked something: “On this record, we cracked ‘our sound’. The first record was a shot in the dark... with this one, we had a good idea of what the end product would sound like.”

Some things have changed behind the scenes, too. “We lost a member a couple of months ago, as they’re pursuing a classical career and couldn’t do both,” they reveal. “It was a very sad time. Godspeed to them.” In their place comes Millie, who has brought a “completely new and exciting dynamic” to their process. “She fits right in.”

They speak like a unit, and increasingly work like one too. “When we started, a lot of the ideas came from the piano, and we arranged them from there. Increasingly, it is becoming more diverse and a lot more collaborative from the outset,” they say. “Normally, Joe will bring some kind of skeleton, progressions and melodies, and then through collaboration and group wisdom, they become a band song. We’re all involved.”

And jamming? “We avoid jams, they’re almost always fruitless, we’re not great at them.” Fair enough.

Where they do thrive is on stage. “We just played the same place over and over again until we got good,” they say, matter-of-fact. “Joe would cold-email dozens of venues and receive no replies. No one was interested. But if you want to play somewhere, you have to go there and make yourself part of the woodwork. Go and watch other bands and talk to the bar staff, and make friends with whoever is working the door or even try and get a job there. You will get that gig, and then from there it’s up to you to make it as good as possible and keep improving. That’s how we did it.”

From ICA to Scala, from rehearsal-room fantasy to sold-out shows, they’ve built something that lasts, and they’re already dreaming bigger. “We’ve just started work on the daunting task of an LP. We think we know where we’re going: a coming-of-age record.”

Even now, they’re still fleshing out the edges of this strange world they’ve made. “These first offerings have a narrative arc and story, and we like to think they’ve created some kind of cohesive world; lyrically, sonically, emotionally,” they reflect. “We hope it takes people up and down and to the side and back again. Some of it is uncomfortable. Some of it is sweet. But ultimately it is an honest body of work that we’re very proud of and want people to experience in their own unique ways.”

Until the album arrives - and until the world is changed, via “many big important meetings” - there’s still plenty of Orchestra (For Now) to go around.

The Orchestra (For Now)'s EP 'Plan 76' is out 31st October.