"We, thought let's do a gig, anti-gravity, live stream it, fill the whole plane with kids from Russia who want to come and have a fucking crazy time, pack in loads of booze and just get fucked up."

What could possibly go wrong?

Crammed into a space the size of a small cupboard, there's just enough room to hunch around a recorder and shout over the support band's soundcheck coming up through the floorboards. Nevertheless, this half of Turbowolf are still able to conjure the kind of pressurised grandiosity that characterises much of their music, even if their surroundings are yet to match it. Tired but evidently happy with a year's worth of tours and festivals they were kind enough to spare half an hour as we caught up with them in Brighton.

"I've been sat in the back of vans for so long that it's just the way it is," says drummer Blake Davies through a grin almost as big as his beard. "I often worry that if I'm not sat in the back of the van then what am I doing? Nothing. Going out, earning money, paying bills. It'd be rubbish."

"But we're still doing it all ourselves," interjects frontman Chris Georgiadis, sipping from his tea and poking long strands of hair back into his hat, "We're always so stoked whenever we get to the actual show to have the little time on stage because that's what we love doing. When you sit in a van for ten hours it makes it worthwhile to have that half an hour on stage."

More than 50 tour dates and 30 festivals since their eponymously titled debut received almost unanimous critical acclaim last November, the wolf is still as hungry as ever. Positive reviews may fuel the fire but Turbowolf are under no illusions as to burgeoning rock and roll stardom; in between getting sick and "loading out shows in at least a foot's worth of water" the GPS and metronomic tick of road markings are what dominates much of the day. Andy Ghosh and Joe Baker, who provide the dual fuzzed-out assault on guitar and bass respectively, are sleeping it off.

"Bands don't make money from selling records anymore unless you're like Adele or someone else who gets their records sold in supermarkets and Walmarts," continues Georgiadis, the caffeine kicking in. "You pick up your cornflakes and get an Adele album with it. Unless you're doing that where do you make your money? You're making money from selling your merchandise and we're very lucky that we've got the sort of fans that want to come out to shows and buy merch. It's fucking great."

The band certainly do well out of t-shirt sales, if only to break even, for the most part because Ghosh's striking artwork sits so well with the music. Despite keeping his influences and methods a secret ("he's as secretive as the pyramid of Giza") we know that the Egyptian mummy Kharis, the skull of Genghis Khan and a horned lion with seven heads will always sit well with fans of this kind of riff dominated psych-rock.Yet more than just the usual fixation with blood and skulls that comes hand in hand with music of such ear-splitting intensity it also represents a greater theme that permeates the band's interests and output. It was this taste for all things grand, monstrous and inexplicable that led them to use promotional funds to interview David Icke and Graham Hancock in the wake of their album's release.

"That was mental," says Davies, "I was just sat there thinking this is what my Dad would be like if he believed the world was run by lizards. Graham seems a bit more into doing research as to what's going on."

Watch the videos for the full story but for the uninitiated David Icke and Graham Hancock fall on either side of the sanity line when it comes to the origin of the Egyptian Pyramids, alien contact and the so-called "Ancient Astronaut". How did cultures from around the world all come to build pyramids? How were such megaliths built in the first place? What are the basis of ancient hieroglyphics that picture people pointing to the sky? For many, these are unanswered questions and this is where Georgiadis begins to pick up a head of steam.

"All that stuff, no one really knows about how that shit got there and why and we're really interested. It's so epic and that ties in with the music that we make, mysterious and epic," he enthuses, animating his points with spindly fingers as "KRONOS" is revealed amidst the tattoos on his forearm. "I guess people can say that but we put things into our music and into our art that is really inspirational to us: how people might have made these things and why. It take you out of your every day issues and makes you think on a grander scale."

"There were some other promo ideas kicking around that if we had the money to do would have been fucking amazing," says Davies, that grin spreading ever wider. "There was an idea at one point of trying to get us up into space."

"Basically," Georgiadis says as he takes over, "someone who we work with knows someone who flies planes over in Russia into the edge of space to do all the anti-gravity filming for films and pornos and all that weird shit. So we thought let's do a fucking gig. There are 4 or 5-minute bursts of anti-gravity so we were thinking play a song, go fucking crazy and then try to rearrange everything and then play again. But it costs a lot of money. If there's anyone out there who wants to sponsor us to go into space, probably the first anti-gravity gig ever played, then we're up for it."

Readers take note. Unfortunately, space may have to wait as they still have the tour to finish, promoting their new covers EP out on green marbled vinyl through Hassle. Their renditions of songs by The Hives, Lightning Bolt and Jefferson Airplane, amongst others, is just as breakneck here as on their debut and has continued to garner the same kind of "classic rock band X on psychotropic drug Y" reviews as have become a bit of a mainstay throughout their career. Covers they may be, but well and truly "wolfed" they have become. Critics have always struggled to categorise the band, seemingly confounded by the mix of meaty riffs and a theremin, of bone-cracking drums and wobbly synth lines, of heavy metal t-shirts with a psychedelic appearance. That's never really seen as a problem though says Georgiadis.

"As long as people think 'they're a bit weird' or think 'I don't really know how to describe them, just listen to them' then that's kinda the point really. We don't really feel the need to fit in, we've never really felt that. Let's just play the music we want to play. So sometimes we've got a keyboard bit in it, sometimes we haven't, sometimes we might play something really fast and heavy and sometimes we'll slow it right down and chill it out and make it a bit more spacey."

These nebulous elements that collide in the cold fusion of a Turbowolf album are what has made them so popular, that and the full throttle live show which sees all four thrashing around the stage. This lean beast of a live act has been honed over the months and with showmanship and crowd control in full commanding form the atmosphere is heightened by the addition of a 10ft Egyptian death mask, in red and black, suspended above the drum riser. Yet all that is to be packed up and boxed away once the dust has settled from the current tour. With barely a moment to re-string guitars they are headed straight back to Bristol and straight into "the cave", as it is known, to write "something incredible".

"I want to mess around with a few different things electronic wise and see what we can get out of that," says Davies. "For me the second album needs to be…almost like the first album but a million times better. So that's quite a step up."

"I think using some different instruments maybe, use a broad variety of sound. We were talking about trying to create a bit more space on the next record…I think we want to make it a bit more rounded…."

"Make the heavy bits heavier, the big bits bigger, the spacey bits spacier…"

They tail off into thoughts of the future before snapping back into the room.

"Yeah just fucking awesome," reiterates Georgiadis. "We're just gonna aim to make something fucking awesome."

And on current evidence, it will be. We thank the band and leave them to prepare for the night's show, not before they impart their most heartfelt gratitude to everyone who has supported them along the way and come out to shows and bought a t-shirt. It is obvious that, no matter their lofty ambitions, these four musicians, or at least the two we met, are very much still on earth and know where their success has come from. Without their fans they wouldn't have come half as far and it is testament to their character that after a year of festivals, a new EP, a headline tour and the distraction of a new album to write, let alone the ongoing ordeal of drive/play/sleep/drive, they remember what matters most in making their plans come to fruition. Now if only someone will pay for those flights in Russia…