In the summer of 2024 we took a few days to spend dedicated time writing and recording some songs that we hoped to release by the end of the summer. Out of the handful of songs we recorded from that session, only one saw the light of day: our October release “The Comedown.” The Comedown was written many months before we began recording it, and we had already played it countless times. This made the recording process a natural next step, whereas “Bitter End” was far more difficult to capture.

The first night of our musical weekend followed a similar routine to our other recording endeavors, where the three of us would meet up at Eddie’s house and begin tearing down all of the microphones and cables in our practice space only to be rebuilt in the living room, the acoustically superior space. This night ended up being different than the others though, and before we set up the drums Eddie told us of a burgeoning idea he had. Always ready to try something new we continued the setup, this time preparing the room for optimal demo recording. Taking inspiration from the Beatles' writing methods, we pushed all of the furniture to the edges of the living room and set ourselves up in a circle in the center. With the three of us all playing guitar, writing this song came to us very quickly, and after just a few times playing it through we had already recorded a rough demo.

One of the most exciting parts about writing and recording music with your friends is the discovery. Like three archaeologists standing over a mysterious bone, we eagerly go back and forth discussing what this might be. Through trial, error, and trust, we pieced together “Bitter End” over the course of the night, with everyone taking home a demo to sleep on. We came back the next morning bursting at the seams with ideas, and thus recording officially began.

Through recording this we discovered that the most important part of writing and working in a band is the connection you share with each other, and how that connection shapes your music. Having never played “Bitter End” in a full band setting, we struggled time and time again to capture the energy we feel when we play live. Despite a unique, promising sound and the ever-exciting inclusion of new gear, the song was still missing something ineffable. Call it a vibe, energy, whatever; it was missing that thing.  

It wasn’t until later that year that we revisited the recording. We had to let it germinate for a little. At this point we had played this song at plenty of shows, and we felt like we knew what the song needed. This song is a little different from the others we’ve stumbled upon because it has no hook. It just never felt like it needed one. Audiences seemed to agree; shouted lyrics were replaced by frantic jumping and slam-dancing. Without needing to focus on remembering a chorus, we felt free to move around the stage with the crowd. Pretty neat. The University of Connecticut crowd that has given us a home for the last year was so wonderfully enthusiastic about this one; Dylan’s quiet verse and Eddie’s frantic count-off sent electric anticipation through the crowd, supercharging the hook-less chorus like an overloaded transformer. Shoutout to Jack Joiner for documenting that feeling so perfectly. We knew then that we were ready to start recording the song again.  

But we needed a revamped process.  The practice room just didn’t have that thing that it needed. So we looked for other recording locations, searching for the biggest, boomiest room that we could find. We wanted an industrial cathedral. A place that was hard and cold and gentle and warm all at once. We found such a space in a recreational garage in New Hartford; hollow, two stories, with concrete walls and floors and a massive, bright reverb that sent Dylan’s voice ping-ponging around the space. Eddie plays ping-pong in that room, coincidentally.  The pressure was on, and for the first time in our lives, we were recording with a time limit. With limited experimentation and a more fleshed out vocal performance, we were able to record all vocal parts (including the choir ending) in about 2 hours. It was freezing cold. No heat, little light. Just three guys shrieking into a microphone in a mostly-empty corner of the second smallest state in America. 

Having completed the vocal recording and most of the instrumental parts, we ran into a problem. There’s always a problem. Sometimes you think you know what it is, but as it starts to come into focus you realize that you had no Earthly idea. The nature of our problem was that the bridge wasn’t big enough; it wanted layers. Depth. It started gently, creeping in on cat feet, but we just couldn’t get it to roar like we knew it wanted to.  So, we made layers of harmony, stacking them like a choir. They were triumphant! Glowing! But warm– a little too warm, especially for a song recorded on a dead, cold winter’s night. So we needed something chilly.  We thought piano might fit the bill. But time was short! Deadlines were creeping up!  On a whim, we mic'd up the piano. We had nothing in mind— no pre-written part whatsoever– but Dylan told Thom: “Just play what feels right.” As if in a trance (and concentrating as hard as his little head would allow), Thom conjured a glistening, frosty piano part that sits at the end of the bridge. Our triumphant choir was now buoyed! But something was still missing… something loud. Luckily, we know a trumpet guy. The incredible Cooper Robinson (who some might recognize as our resident bassist) laid down a screaming, soaring trumpet that cuts through the mess of voices and piano like a hot knife through butter. Shoutout to Mom Jeans for that inspiration (we luv you Scott Pilgrim).  

So what is “Bitter End”? What is this song about? What does it mean? 

To us, it’s hope and despair; beginnings and endings; a warm room on a freezing night. Everything ends, and we (like most people) are uncomfortable with that. How nice it would be to languish in this moment forever. But then again, moments lose their luster if they stick around too long. Maybe endings are good, sometimes. 

More than anything, this song is about you, dear listeners. It’s about being young and making mistakes. It’s about winter nights spent in crowded basements. It’s about summer evenings bursting with potential. It’s about the feeling that you’ve come a long way; just far enough to understand how far you have yet to go. We’re excited to go wherever we’re going, and we want to take you with us.  

Love, 

Thom, Eddie, and Dylan