Interview: Slimfit writhe around in blistered garage-rock ⎯⎯ and they’re not sorry about that!
The Columbus rock band talk debut album, feeling OK and essential cuts.
Life is really just controlled chaos. Sometimes, you’re frantically running around and trying to make sense of bombshells falling from the sky, the tension so dense you could cut it with a kitchen knife. Other times, you’re so damn restless you don’t feel like doing much of anything, least of all trying to concoct a way to stop the world from burning. When you listen to Slimfit, now equipped from an extremely flammable and frenzied garage-rock debut LP called Sorry About That, you get the sense you’re living under their breath, strained gasps spilling out of frontman Josh Davis’ teeth, overtaking your sense of reality. Within that uncertain and terrifying headspace, which found him meandering around life with nothing to create, Davis dove headfirst into songwriting for the first time. “I didn’t really have an outlet to do anything that I enjoyed. I wasn’t playing basketball. I wasn’t hanging out with friends. I just felt kinda stuck,” he writes to B-Sides & Badlands over email, exposing his raw nerve in a way to further illustrate the record’s own trembling feelings.
That first step led him to pick up his guitar again, this time with “something to say,” he affirms. “I kinda just set out to record whatever I already had written and realized that they all sounded fairly cohesive.” What results is 10 tracks that lurch from the deepest fathoms of his (perhaps) subconscious, rattling melodies that shatter the heart and tear through membrane. “I Know Some of These Words” is prickly and feverish, while “Red Robin Williams” first bubbles before boiling all over himself. The complexity of the band’s arrangements are mostly enthralling wastelands (in the best way) fashioned to jolt you awake from a slumber you didn’t realize you had succumb to ⎯⎯ “Like the Pants!” is punkish in sensibility, leaving you immediately and intensely energized. That barn-burning opener sets the precedent, but you still won’t be ready for what’s coming. The sonic mayhem washes over your skin, and while the itch travels hard and fast, it’s sweetly satisfying.
Along with bandmates Regina Squeri (playing bass) and Daniel Seibert (drums), the Columbus band keep the torched turmoil contained within the scope of each track, even if they swerve off the road from time to time. That’s the charm. Sorry About That was recorded with Maddy Ciampa at the helm, a choice that allowed another perspective to keep the unwieldy and steaming locomotive on time for its eventual destination. “[She] is a really talented musician and has a great ear, whereas I am a bumbling idiot,” says Davis. “So, she kinda just left me do whatever I wanted, and then, if it sounded like garbage, she would politely tell me so.”
Written and recorded over a span of two years, the album, which began between the claustrophobic walls of Davis’ Cincinnati one-bedroom apartment, is just as much a release of balled-up energy as a fervently-scribbled manifesto on notebook paper. “Writing music that I don’t hate is hard,” admits Davis, whose gravelly timbre never once tires or feels mangled. “I’ve wanted to be in a band since I recorded myself on a camcorder lip-syncing a Blink 182 song and playing air guitar on a baseball bat in my room in 7th grade. And we did it. So, that’s pretty cool.”
Below, Slimfit dig into many of the album’s essential cuts and discuss how the move to Columbus impacted the music, roles they play in the world and their live show.
“Harry Houdini” is an absolutely gem. It sees you trying to move on, but you’re, literally and metaphorically, stuck in your car. What led to writing this one?
Davis: I had just gotten out of a relationship that ended 100 percent because of me. I wanted to do something to make it right, but I also knew that the other person probably didn’t want me to try to make it right, so I felt kinda stuck. I also had the idea to use the beginning of the “I’m Not Okay” music video by My Chemical Romance as a chorus, so I just meshed those two thoughts together.
How did the move to Columbus itself impact the writing and playing of music?
Squeri: Columbus has a pretty supportive music scene. It’s helped my confidence as a player because it’s been rare that people haven’t showed up to our shows. The people being supportive, in turn, give me more courage to play andsing in front of others.
Davis: The move was awesome! There’s literally an infinite number bands here in Columbus that don’t get nearly enough credit. You could go see a different show at a different venue every night of the week, and they’d all rule. I will say that my friends in Steven King and The Roof Dogs are really talented songwriters and have given me plenty of tips for my writing which has helped immensely.
“Red Robin Williams” quickly follows, and it’s got such a cool opening riff, which then weaves in and out of the song’s runtime. How did the production of this one come together?
Davis: That one probably took the longest to flesh out. I wanted the main riff to come in and really punch, but we tried a lot of different things before we got it right. Trial and error, I guess.
The last line of the song reads: “So why do I still feel so damn alone?” Given the song title, too, is depression and suicide something you’ve had to learn to handle in your life?
I guess I never thought about how the title played into the content of the song. I was just trying to be punny. I’ve never personally had to struggle with suicide but I know a lot of my friends have before and it can be a very scary and very real thing. I think that I can get into ruts some times but that’s fairly normal.
[Anyone who is reading this who may be struggling, please check out The Trevor Project which provides services to people struggling with mental health, particularly catered to LGBTQ+ people!]
Does that feed into your love of music?
Davis: Yeah, there’s certain records that come to mind that have totally gotten me through some serious funks. “Funtitled” by Spraynard and “Rhombithian” by Sincere Engineer come to mind.
How did you come to terms with being OK with life’s roller coaster sensibility?
Squeri: I don’t know that I’m there yet, but I’m just trying to be better every day.
Davis: You never necessarily get used to it, but I’m trying to focus on the idea that I can’t control what I can’t control. I can, however, be good to myself and my body, try to eat and exercise right, talk to people I love as often as I can, and play some dang ROCK SHOWS BAYBAY!
The best hook on the album probably goes to “I’m Scuba Sam, Scuba Steve’s Father.” How did you land on such an undeniably chorus?
Davis: Ya know how you always say, “Oh, I’ll accomplish this this this and this,” and then, you get a lil too drunk on a Saturday night, and you don’t get any of that done? Well, that happened to me one fine Sunday. [laughs]
The closing song “Homer Simpson, Smiling Politely” has some of the quirkiest lyrics, paired with an aggressive and equally-oddball arrangement and melody. How did this one come to be?
Davis: I initially wanted the intro to have trombones and stuff in it and make it a real ska song, but that didn’t pan out…maybe next time. [laughs] I’ve always been a fan of really upbeat aggressive songs, and I wanted to juxtapose that with a silly ridiculous ska-ish intro. It’s a head scratcher of a transition, but I think if we think it’s cool as a band, we just go for it and don’t really give to much mind to if it sounds “cool” or not.
“I Know Some of the Words” is another peak moment, in which you wrestle with who you are and what role you play in the world. What’s that journey been like for you? And how is that handled within just over two minutes? Is there an answer here?
Davis: It’d be a pretty long song if I didn’t cut out some details. [laughs] It was just me coming to grips with the facts that being a “successful adult” doesn’t mean that you’re not going to live in a shitty apartment or have car problems or be tight on money sometimes. I have a math teaching job that provides benefits, a kick-ass band that I love playing with and a ton of supportive friends and family. Plus, my credit score is TIGHT. I’m doing better than I give myself credit for sometimes.
In what ways does music and performing live make you feel alright?
Squeri: I’m a big baby that loves being the center of attention. I used to do theater in high school. In a way, it feels like an alternative to church, where you can go and feel like you’re apart of something important.
Davis: I, too, have always loved being the center of attention. I love to make people laugh, and I love to perform. I’m also a huge pro wrestling freak, in addition to music. The way that a wrestling match or seeing my favorite band has made me feel, I want to be able to make other people feel that way.
