EP HIGHLIGHTS – “McEnroe” & “Ten Speed”
Hatching out of COVID boredom between friends down on NYC’s Lower East Side, drummer Doug Stern and vocalist-guitarist Brian Runk casually kickstarted AIH by jamming through some classic rock and early punk covers. It's a preference that’s made abundantly clear via their high-energy live shows and staple sound of sturdy guitar, memorable chant-driven hooks and a raw, gritty urgency that bridges generations. The duo were later joined by second guitarist Danny Bean, a self-described “guitar hoarder and pedal afficionado”, before Russell Webb completed the lineup on bass. And so, AIH were born. But why the name? Something of an urban legend among die-hard fans, it’s said to have evolved from the band’s penchant for “anti-intellectual humour”.
They describe themselves as “indie”, which is true in the original sense of the word, rather than the sound we’ve come to affiliate it with -– Brian is even a keen DIY merch maker. With no airs and graces, these four are regular guys who even decided to share with us their drinks of choice -– in case you were wondering (in the mix are Heineken, Partake, Guinness and, questionably, Strongbow).
This isn’t their first rodeo, though. Midwesterners might remember Brian from '90s bands Tiny, Bendigo Shafter and Beezus, and Doug currently juggles AIH with fellow NYC band Sons of David, while Russell plays in a local Allman Brothers tribute called Highway 41. Independent to their core, the band have proudly self-released this six-track, self-titled debut EP.
First track “McEnroe” is a tongue-in-cheek, kitsch homage to the iconic, curly-haired, headband-clad, '80s tennis diva –- with the song’s main hook built around his classic catchphrase: “You cannot be serious!”. It’s energetic, with a rugged, hardcore-punk riff to match, and occasional hints of '80s-flavoured jangly guitar. The lyrics, at a deeper level, delve into the pressure of the spotlight and public eye -– using dry humour to add that life isn’t always as great as it might appear –- especially in a world where every mistake and misunderstanding is magnified for all to see.
“Parenting Young Children” continues the deadpan delivery while painting an all-too-relatable picture of household toddler carnage, and the torrent of varying emotions that hit new parents all at once. It’s introspective, quirky and, at times, surprisingly touching: “The things they do that drive me nuts / I do them too / Learned more about myself than I ever wanted to know / You’ve never been so proud / You’ve never been so mad”.
Track three starts out a blues-rocking break-up ballad, seeing the narrator lamenting the loss of the love of his life -– which, amusingly, is finally revealed at the last verse to be their beloved “ten-speed cruiser” (Doug and Brian are racing bike enthusiasts). Riffs are meaty, with a steady lead solo possessing subtle hints of rockabilly and Americana twang, mixed in with classic rock ’n’ roll.
Adopting something of a Pistolesque rhythm and a rapid-fire, Ramones-like pacing, “More Is More” is a classic, good-time number that tips its hat more than once to first-wave US punk. With a classic rock solo, drum breaks and grooving bass fills, it’s the life and soul of the EP.
By far the angstiest number is “My Algorithm”: addressing online footprints, data collection and privacy invasion in the modern world. Barging through with galloping drums and a razor-sharp, relentless riff that cuts just as hard as its lyrics (which are top-notch here), there’s no doubt about its cynical tone, and, in this climate, you really can’t blame them: “Observe you, pretend to serve you / My ruse is to use what you peruse / Against you (…) / I feed you so I can bleed you (…) / Does it surprise you I monetise you”.
Closing with “Waiting”, there’s an unmistakable hint of reverbed country rock in this acoustic, stripped-back intro. Sparking a more vulnerably melodic vocal performance, it’s a change of track from the earlier entries. Even as choruses pick up, with chants of “Are you with me or against me?”, it manages to maintain that tender sentiment. Initially, there’s frustration over time wasted worrying about others’ opinions, before a whole new, transformative feeling of empowerment is embodied at the end, as the narrator discovers newfound freedom outside of the shackles of conformity and insecurity.
This self-titled debut is a sometimes-humorous, other-times-inspiring take on the many hurdles life throws our way. Simultaneously, it’s refreshingly down to earth and doesn’t take itself too seriously. Perfect for any lover of classic rock or the early US punk sound, plus anyone who enjoys a semi-satirical poke at the state of today’s world.
