Posted: by The Alt Editing Staff
Photos by Alex Ramirez
It pays to be a good hang – that’s the mantra DIY Superbowl openers armbite live by. After placing second at a battle-of-the-bands style show for a slot playing at the festival’s fifth annual installment, the band was invited by the members of the 4333 booking collective to play anyways. I sat down with armbite immediately following their set at Ukie Club to discuss their story and their reverence of the Philly scene at large.
The story of armbite reads as some sort of divine intervention, but perhaps they found themselves under the magnetic forces of Philly’s DIY scene. The trio is composed of guitarist/vocalist Harrison Lennertz, bassist/vocalist Marin Duff, and drummer Matt Guardiola. Duff played a central force in the band’s formation after meeting Guardiola via Tinder: “I knew Harrison because our colleges were affiliated with one another, and we were both on the FUCS board, which is the concert booking group at our colleges. He sent me some demos that blew me away, and these were fully produced ready to release songs in my opinion. They had fucking drums and everything. I was going through a phase, you know. I met people on Tinder and I went to their house the next day. That’s what I was doing at that point. I went over to Matt’s house. And he’s like, ‘yeah, let me show you my basement.’ I was like, ‘okay, this is normal. I’ll just go into this guy’s basement. What do I have to lose?’ Matt’s basement is The Underworld, which is this venue that I would say is very prolific in the Philadelphia DIY scene.”
Guardiola has been running The Underworld for two years, the only of which to donate profits from every show to relevant charities like the PCRF, Operation Olive Branch, and local mutual aid funds. The venue prides itself on safety and community building, with free water and harm reduction resources at every show. “I mean, we’re biased, but truly it’s an incredible venue,” Duff gushes.
They continue: “ I went into the basement and Matt had this sick setup. I think he played some shit on the drums. We made a Spotify blend and we had a 97% matchup. Who was the only other person I had a 97% match with at that point? Harrison. And everything out of my mind, I was like, ‘I’ve got bigger plans [than dating] for this guy.’ So I said to him ‘Yo, you gotta meet my buddy Harrison, trust,” they recall. Needless to say, Guardiola was impressed with the demos. The first time the three were able to meet was at a show at the very venue I spoke to them in. In just a year and a half, they went from audience members to performers in front of a sold out crowd. The night’s headliner was Taiwan math rock trio Elephant Gym, a band Lennertz has been listening to since he was in high school. “This is really a dream come true show for me,” he says timidly on stage.
Armbite were able to play their first show less than two months after that initial meeting, at a venue that, in a vacuum, is indicative of the scene’s ethos: an independent pizza shop. While the uninitiated may see the unorthodox use of a fast food establishment as merely an homage to the infamous Denny’s Grand Slam, Philly Style Pizza has been an enduring venue for both local and touring bands to perform. If there’s one thing the Philly scene does well, it’s adapting and thinking outside the box. While basement venues are certainly in abundance, venues have been formed from churches, community centers, skate parks, porches — really any space with an outlet that can fit a few dozen people. During their time studying urban development, Duff made a documentary highlighting how Philly’s housing infrastructure allows DIY basement venues to be as widespread as they are. “Even though this was so far from the intention when the first plans for the city were made back with William Penn and the Quakers, the built form of the environment is perfect to sustain a scene like the one that we have found ourselves in,” they explain. “The fact that we are geographically in between New York and Washington, DC with New Jersey to the east of us, a lot of bands will tour and just go to those places because they’re right next to each other. Philly is right in the middle, so we’ve got the advantage of having influences from so many different places, and so many different subcultures and subgenres of people,” Duff continues.
Venues like the one run by Guardiola are made from rowhomes, which make up the vast majority of Philadelphia’s residential space. “It just worked out that these houses are constructed as perfect music venues. They’ve all got these really spacious basements and then they’ve got a ground level main floor with the living room area, and then all of the bedrooms are upstairs, so you can just block the stairs off and nobody will be in your shit,” Duff explains.
Armbite have a jagged, unapologetic, je ne sais quoi to their specific brand of all-American punk. They wear their influences on their sleeve and aren’t afraid to make them clear with a wink and a smile. Lennertz admits that he wrote debut single “catsitting” with the intention of sounding like Glocca Mora, and much of his guitar writing being directly influenced by fellow Philadelphians Sweet Pill. Guardiola goes on to say, “I often describe us as a combo of Glocca Mora, Origami Angel, and Remo Drive,” to which Duff makes sure to specify “Old Remo, Greatest Hits era.” Duff has gotten into debates in the YouTube comment sections of Remo Drive music videos – spoken like a true punk.
Duff and Lennertz share a reverence for mathcore outfit The Callous Daoboys, hailing from Duff’s home state of Georgia. “We stole a line from them,” they admit. At the end of their sets to get the crowd moving one last time, Duff commands, “If you have health insurance, fucking prove it!” Lennertz, who’s straightedge, performs like he’s just snorted three lines of coke. “Sometimes I look over and I’m like, ‘Go white boy, go.’ He’s losing it, he’s shaking his ass on stage,” Duff adds. “I’ve been getting more into the ass shaking thing,” Lennertz replies.
Even with only three (four if you count the 35-second thesis statement song, “you gotta have fun (oh, you gotta have fun)”) songs out, armbite have a recognizable identity in their lyrics, exhibiting an optimistic, or otherwise unobtrusive annoyance. In their song “spine,” Duff lectures, “No one’s out to get you, man / The world’s an okay place, but you can’t get that through your fucking head / And i can’t help someone who doesn’t want the help,” as the band breaks down into a raging, heady, breakdown. They’re done trying to entertain this love interest – the only thing they want is their shirt back. Lennertz’ lyrics exude a similar feeling of defeat: “If I never see your face again that would be okay / because I don’t need this / So I’m sorry,” he admits in “catsitting.” Lennertz is the type of person to instinctively pick up and begin playing any instrument that falls under his gaze, regardless of whether or not he knows how to play it. “[Harrison] write[s] songs like a fucking rabbit,” Guardiola quips.
I chatted with the band for an additional 25 minutes outside the venue after all was said and done, and even at 1am their optimism and camaraderie remained palpable. We discussed their aspirations to record an LP, the time Lennertz was nearly kicked out of a library for laughing too hard at Annoying Orange videos when he was eight, and singing the praises of other bands in the scene.
Armbite’s story is one that could not be more indicative of the values and attitudes that keep the Philly DIY scene as vibrant as it has been post-pandemic. The trio have known each other for less than two years, but speak with a candor that feels as if they’d find each other in any lifetime. If anything, Guardiola says it best: “The future is arm-bright.”where they’ve be
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Leah Weinstein | @leahetc_
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