Our Wits
Photo Credit 📷 : @wendydearmasd
Hark! January has passed us by with its bitter cold and ICE in the Midwest, February has come and seasonal depression is in full-swing like the baseball bats at spring training. I wonder how my jokes of despair land in these trying times? “I understand why the deer jump in front of cars” I write, in jest? Question mark intended. How fortunate we are that New Jersey has gifted us this debut video from Our Wits. “Let Me Join You…” is tragic yet somehow I feel better having experienced it.
The track opens resplendent in jangly guitar, Matt’s licks and runs alongside his chord work bring about something hopeful. When Dean chimes in with the “whoa!” there I something hopeful. What is this, emo for happy people? Well, no. As Nagee’s bass rumbles and Mark’s hi-hats move in a danceable rhythm we’re reminded, lyrically, that despite its infectious melodies “Let Me Join You…” is an ode to death and dying.
‘I’ve buried so many goddamn people/the dirt permanently stains my skin’ is the opening line, an almost fuck you to these poppy beginnings. A dichotomy that I can’t help but to take solace in, where I watch us all seek the dopamine hits that might keep us standing upright for another couple of hours while the weight of FUCKING EVERYTHING ELSE is just another stone in Giles Corey’s pressing in 1692.
“WE HOPE THIS RECORD CAN PROVIDE CATHARSIS AND UNDERSTANDING FOR THOSE WHO NEED IT, MUCH IN THE WAY IT'S PROVIDED US THOSE THINGS. OUR MUSIC EXISTS IN DIALOGUE WITH THE BROADER DIY COMMUNITY. THIS IS OUR CONTRIBUTION TO THAT DIALOGUE.”
- OUR WITS, @OURWITS
Why then has this anthem played on repeat? Is it empathy, the great equalizer, that reminds me that we’re in this together, watching the burial rites of so many we know. ‘I feel nothing/but a sense of longing/for this to end/for the parade of black-clad/passerbys weeping over caskets/to end,’ Dean shouts overtop Our Wits uplifting cascade of licks. Here we understand the pitfalls of apathy that this song suggests we avoid, the void we might fall into if overwhelmed by grief (grief at the great injustice of sickness, sadness, or the billionaire class and its societal injustice).
This rag-tag bunch somehow managed to release an absolute banger of poppy, math-rock-lite riffs, with gruff, shout-sung vocals, with a lyrical content that ought to strike home with everybody trying to climb out of this pit of despair. They’ve somehow captured gruff, horrifying ogre punk gruff vocals that act as a puzzle piece linking bands like Snowing to the beauty and post-rock-esque, reverb drenched beauty of bands like Pianos Become the Teeth.
Our Wits is Dean, Mark, Matt and Nagee. They recorded these tracks over 4-days with Steve Roche at Permanent Hearing Damage, mostly live, with some overdubbing and additional tracking where appropriate. It is intentional in its DIY punk ethos, the urgency of the recording process, coupled with meticulous preparation. No note is wasted. “Let Me Join You…” is the debut song from their forthcoming, self-released record releasing at the end of February.
TL;DR: Just play the fucking video. On repeat.
Our Wits is Dean Scordilis on Vocals, Matt Billy on guitar / vocals, Nagee Dias on bass / vocals and Mark Boulanger on drums & vocals.
Follow Our Wits on Bandcamp here : Our Wits
Writer : @garevthistle
Editor : @just_reidz
02/16/26
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