Steve just released their latest record, You Can Do This, Too, out now on I Surrender Records. Here’s what they had to say about the lyrics, the music, and what the album is all about.
Ky: ‘Inbred’ was written in response to getting a ticket for texting while driving. I was not texting while driving. The officer pulled me over in a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot, asked if I knew why I was pulled over, and then proceeds to tell me that I was on my phone, because he saw something in my hand and a “light colored cable” attached to it. I proceeded to show my vape, which was connected to the USB cable for charging, and he insisted it was my phone.
On his way back to his patrol car, he looks in my backseat where I had a broom for snow removal and a winter hat in the backseat. He asks, “Do you mind if I search your vehicle?”, to which I respond with, “So you can look at a broom and a hat?” It was at this moment I realized I fucked up. He comes back to my car and hands me a careless driving ticket, and the citation did not say anything specifically about using an electronic device while driving. I wrote ‘Inbred’ in the car on an hour-long drive back to Philadelphia, where I was living at the time.
Ky: ‘Ankle Biter,’ commonly referred to in band conversation as ‘Blood,’ came from feelings of not being a good friend which evolved into realizing I wasn’t the problem. It’s about dealing with a manipulative person, one who takes advantage of a friendship for their own personal gain. Kind of like if you’re a rich kid, and your friends are only your friends to hang out in the basement home movie theater of your parents’ split level, open concept house—they’re not your friends; they just wanna fuck your roommate.
Axe to the Heavens
Ky: Like ‘Ankle Biter,’ we refer to this one as “Shitface.” I am a pro-addict. Any sort of vice that came my way growing up became my life. So, like most new 21-year-olds, I spent a lot of time going out drinking on a nightly basis. I’d pass out in the backseat of cabs on the way back home way too often. At the height of this lifestyle, I found myself seeing somebody consistently. We’d easily go through pitchers of domestic beer in a few hours, go home, and wake up not understanding our relationship—whether it was romantic or drinking buddies. I’ve been booze-sober since May 4, 2019.
Zach: I fucking hate “cool guys.” Miss me with your bullshit cliques. Also, Kyle helped me express this beef.
Ky: A sweet, 40-second tune, what more do you want? Here’s an equally short description: it’s about somebody not liking you back, lol.
Blade of The Warrior
Nick: All four of us ran house shows in New Brunswick for a couple of years. It was fun, felt like we had a nice community, and made cool band friends. However, what they don’t tell you is that when you stop doing the shows, everyone disappears! So strange how when you aren’t of service anymore, all your “friends” stop responding to you on Twitter and IRL. WEIRD!
Rob & Alan
Zach: I had a crush on someone.
Zach: I wanted to write a song that not only was incredibly predictable but also poked fun at predictability of it. I wanted someone to be like “you call that a song?” but also to be able to at least rock their head to it.
BDS&M (Beatdown Spaghetti & Meatballs)
Ky: This is a weird one. It’s about my struggle with OCD and living in an environment where the other occupants are not as aware of how bad it is, and how difficult it is to try to convey the severity of my personal disorder. The line, “Don’t wanna leave my room,” is a truth that I live with. In my bedroom, everything is organized precisely to my liking. Leaving that space and seeing things not as well put-together terrifies me.
Zach: The day I moved out of my old show house with all my best friends and moved back into my parents’ house, I stopped at a 711 to get a chili cheese dog. I was pretty upset, so I thought a greasy snack would make me feel better. When all the toppings fell on to my shirt, I felt as if this was a metaphor for what was happening to me. I went home, demoed this track out, and now here I am crying about a hot dog.