Category Archives: News

Hello to you. From us.

Hello to you. From us.
Isn’t that nice? An interesting thing about the word hello is that it had to compete with ahoy as the telephone greeting. As you may know, it indeed prevailed as the telephone greeting of choice, even though it was Alexander Graham Bell who suggested ahoy. The whole thing foreshadows We Are Scientists so nicely (we’re hello, get it? hello?).
Now what we have for you here is a list of issues that we need to bring up with you. The list will follow the following colon:

  • We heard half of the new album, Safety, Fun, and Learning (In That Order), last night, and it sounds damn good. Damnably good indeedy.
  • Introducing ask a scientist! Read it, learn from your mistakes, and then ask us about your next conundrum. Just email your questions to
  • The discussion board sucks. We know. We know you know. It will be replaced soon. Please don’t go to it until we say differently, or else we’ll attack you with a million pop-up ads. For the sake of your mental health, please don’t try us.
  • On the (other) page in this website, you will find a new poll. Go vote! But remember that this is a scientific study, so please treat it accordingly, i.e. don’t cheat by repeatedly erasing the freepolls cookie from your temporary internet files folder and re-voting.
  • Finally, we thought we ought to tell “some people” (you know who you are) that you’ve been developing a sort of lisp, which isn’t necessarily bad by any means, but which, when obviously feigned for dramatic or super-feminizing effect, can come off as phony, and nobody wants to be a phony. We just thought you should know.

And now we’ll say “goodbye.”

Things ARE moving along. Do

Things ARE moving along. Do you doubt us? That is disconcerting.
No, listen. Just listen for once, instead of always talking over us. And stop being so impossible. If you have a point to make, then make it, just stop off-handedly refuting everything we say. Okay?
Album: quickly being mastered.
Deadlines: being set, although if you think that we’re going to state these deadlines in any definite manner in this sort of public venue after all we’ve been through (i.e., the rather grandiose declarations we’d made about a January release and whatnot), well, sir, you are a damned fool.
Artwork for album: coming along quite nicely, thanks.
So: soon my pretties. Soon.
This site should have some updates soon, with some new musical-type clips, some other rather non-musical-type clips, and some new-ish photos, so that you guys can see just how Michael has grown since December. “His musculature is rather commanding,” was one comment we’ve had regarding Michael’s development. Also said was, “He is skinny, like all of you scientist-types.” So, maybe things haven’t changed as much as we’ve been fantasizing.

I know. I KNOW! By

I know. I KNOW!
By now, we were supposed to have put out the album and started promoting it and begun appearing on the covers of all of the various trade magazines. You don’t have to tell us. We have been stretching and oiling ourselves for these photo shoots we thought were going to happen, but we are still in our house, waiting. And so are you, we know. How can you move forward with your life when you have been using the forthcoming we are scientists album as a benchmark for your life? You have told people, “First I will buy the new WAS album, and THEN I will marry you,” etc. We are so sorry for the delay.
But, it WILL be out, very soon. We can’t say when, though. Soon! Kevin Brady, whose role in the birth of this album is as big (bigger, probably) as any of the actual band members’ roles, is working tirelessly on getting this thing to sound as good as it can possibly sound. Keith went to Miami and tried to master the album with a man who turned out to a bad person with evil intentions. Keith fought him, and Keith was hurt badly. But, we still have the album, and we’ve rescucitated it with our own mastering skills. It will sound the way you want it to sound. Promise.
Also, damn it, can someone please get this site updated a little more often, please?

Okay, okay. So, we are

Okay, okay. So, we are big talkers. We have often regaled you poor kids with talk of fantastic treasures found and massive pectorals developed and debut albums recorded. And, sure, these tales have seemed dubious to you guys, since we are scientists clearly has no cash and poor musculature and no debut album. Well, all that has changed (except for the cash and muscles things). The album is done, people. Well, at least the recording part of it is. There is still some mixing to be done. Then, Keith will shuttle off to Miami to sunbathe and smoke Havana cigars and get the album mastered. Then, we

"So, how is the album

“So, how is the album going,” you ask impatiently, tapping your fingers on the countertop.
“Ah, very well, very well,” we reply, our eyes darting toward the open door.
A chance to escape! But we’re too late to make the move.
“So then, where the hell is it? This album? This album of yours, that is supposed to be maybe the finest use that mankind has yet found for plastics and digital things and searchlights?” Your eyes are narrowing. We don’t like this.
“Ah, where?” Wiping sweat from our collective brows. “Ah, a perfectly fine and good question!”
“Yeah, because a while ago, you kids were talking the big talk. Talking like it was coming out in December, or some other madness.” You are clearly angry. We’d made a promise, and then we’d broken it.
“Ah, well . . .yes! Absolutely right, and thank you for mentioning it!” We are inching toward the exit. “Well, things happened, and release dates were pushed back. But we are working! Rest assured, we are working our very hardest. When we are not eating or sleeping or taking in another viewing of ‘Car Wash’ starring Dr. Dre, we are working. The recording is almost done, and what we currently have sounds so very sweet, you will not mind that we are deceitful and slothful and long in the tooth.”
You are unimpressed. “Okay, but how about the artwork for the CD? I mean do you even have a cover, or any concept of how the liner notes will be . . .”
But we are through the door, scrambling over each other out into the street.
The sounds of car doors slamming. An engine turning over. Tires squealing away toward the south.
Once again, we are scientists has left you holding the check.

People: We Are Scientists has

People: We Are Scientists has a plan. It is a plan of action, one whose likelihood of success is immeasurably high. Immeasurably. This plan involves three things: the rock, the liquor, and you. Ha ha, well, not the liquor, necessarily. We’re not going to sit here and condone the use of liquor as a catalyst to having fun, although we will sit here and confirm that it functions extremely well in that capacity. We’ll sit while we confirm that because we’re too drunk to stand. No, not really. In reality we are writing this from a treadmill, one of those neat guys whose angle can be increased to simulate a hill for higher difficulty. We have the angle all the way up to 45 degrees, but the machine is off and we are sitting on the floor, using the ramp as a recliner. Does this information surprise you? It shouldn’t. Your first clue that this kind of thing goes on should have been Michael’s sickly ripped abdominals. Your next clue: Keith’s frisbee-shaped pectorals. And then there are Chris’s ruddy cheeks, which suggest that he is hale, that he enjoys at least moderate health, no?
Earlier on, though, we were talking about a plan that we have. Well, that was not just ballyhoo. Not just, anyway. (Did that sound kind of like David Mamet, those last 2 lines? Hmm. Not bad.) Matter o’ fact, there’s quite the little shytestorm comin’ down the pipes, in a good way. This Friday, you see, We Are Scientists has rented out a club called The West End, up there across the street from Columbia University, a prestigious academic institution that you may have heard of!!! Ha ha ha!! I mean you may just have heard of it, you know? Columbia University! Ring any bells??! Fucking Columbia, eh?!! Ha!! How bout Harvard! Have you maybe heard of them? No but, no, we were talking about Columbia here! Fuckin A!
So but yes, we’ve gone ahead and spoken with the the kindly, wizened folks at The West End and we’ve said to them, we said: “Gentle managerial types, what would you say to us renting out the club area below your hip bar/restaurant, here just a stone’s throw from lauded Columbia University?” And basically, to come to the point, they said fine, okay, anything for you guys, and we said great, we accept your hospitality, and then we just had to plan the event. And plan the event we did.
This Friday, at the West End, you will bear witness to many unusual things: you will bear witness to: four explosive rock forces. At 9:30, The Tuesday Suits will shake your consciousness. These kids are rock solid, air tight, and ready to rumble. So shake your ass for them. At 10:30, The Fit will break you over their knee. In a good way. These guys have a Paula Abdul cover on their new EP. They’re that good. At 11:30, that juggernaut of rock prowess, of harmonic achievement, of cakes and brownies made from a mix, We Are Scientists, will take the stage. And blow. You. Away. Most. Likely. And batting clean-up, Smite will freak the hell out of you from 12:30 til the bar overhead caves in on our heads and we all simultaneously explode from under the rubble like an army of Incredible Hulks and take to the motherfuckin streets. Oh my spine’s tingling just thinking about it.
Besides music, there will be:
– slide artwork projected onto a white screen.
– a short film about relationship obsession projected onto a white screen.
– Camptown Races, fifteen miles long, in this case.
– a live interview of Governor Sweets Calhoun (Alabama), who is running for U.S. President. Sweets is a really cool guy, and has a moustache.
– a thee-headed turtle. Two of the heads are fake.
– a full bar, where you can buy $3 beers, and all sorts of other refreshing inducement.
Now, to be totally forthright, we have to admit that there will be no turtle. But that shouldn’t really be a big deal to you, since, as noted, the turtle has but one head. One head. I mean, come on. Who are we fooling with that? With two fake heads glued on there. Who’s that going to draw? Nobody, so we didn’t even bother with the whole turtle thing. Everything else there is true, though. Everything.

So, recording goes on, and

So, recording goes on, and it goes on quite well. Damn, this record will be hot. Why do we say that? If you have to ask, you have clearly arrived at this website accidentally, for you know absolutely nothing of we are scientists.
Some of you may remember the last update (see below), in which we mentioned that Michael went into the studio and did many things with great precision (among them: playing the drums) and that Chris had laid down his bass parts as well. Well, last night, bass tracks were redone. Some of you may be wondering why so fine and infallible a bass player as Chris would ever need to have more than one pass at recording his bass lines, and the answer is: he wouldn’t need more than one, you simpering idiot! The problem was not with Chris, but with the machinery, proving once again that WAS is still two steps ahead of all human technology. We decided to try mic-ing the bass a little differently, and the result was so fine that we concluded that all bass tracks should be re-recorded to include this tremendous new bass sound. Sure, this means that the album may come out as many as two days later than we’d previously anticipated, but believe us: when you hear this ridiculously smooth bass tone, you will agree that those 48 WAS-less hours that you spent moaning and wailing and annoying the family will have been well worth it.
After banging out several stellar tracks in quick succession, Chris was so excited about the great leaps in bass engineering that he promptly declared that, upon the completion of these fine bass parts, the album was now complete, and would feature only bass and drums. He was very adamant about this, and when Keith pointed out that such an arrangement would render his role in the band essentially obsolete, Chris commenced to shrieking, “Do you hear that bass tone? I mean do you HEAR that bass tone? I’ll not have your misguided guitar wanking and half-baked vocals marring this recording, which, as it stands, is clearly this century’s finest sonic achievement.” Michael could not disagree, and so, with a vote of 2 to 1, Keith was unceremoniously ousted from the band.
Later, as Keith sat weeping on the curb, it occurred to him that both Michael and Chris will be away over the Thanksgiving weekend, giving him plenty of time to steal into the studio and surreptitiously add those most necessary guitars and vocals. Let us all pray that he is not too late . . .

Drum recording wrapped up last

Drum recording wrapped up last night, ladies; drum recording wrapped up last night, gentlemen. In just under four hours, the WAS team knocked off some nine songs in quick succession, Michael laying down flawless track after flawless track. So puzzlingly proficient was Michael last night that the rest of us found ourselves making quips along the following lines:

A news update on

A news update on is for many of you the one remaining reason to go on. It’s a fact. Let’s stop playing house. Now that your gruesome dependency has been brought out into the open for all to see, perhaps the healing can begin. On the other hand, if we continue to whip out the kind of hyper-entertaining, ridiculously informative crap that has long characterized this notable corner of the world wide web, well then I guess you don’t really stand much of a chance of overcoming the addiction.
A little throat clearing and we shall commence. Bleh-he-hem. And so we had a show last Saturday at a little club in Brooklyn called L’Amour, a bunghole catering to hair metal and others who haven’t yet discovered linear thought. We broke all kinds of prestigious records by not selling a single ticket. Fear not, that was our intention; how could we subject you, the delicate fan-base, to the aesthetic bludgeoning of a club like L’Amour? As showtime approached, the club manager, possibly experiencing a fit of suicidal dementia, made what must have been the most difficult decision of his young life: to fuck with WAS. Fortunately for all concerned, we were in the most receptive and forgiving of moods, and so when he told us “you got fifteen fuckin’ minutes”, we silently applauded his bravura and cache whilst bowing and slowly backing into a nearby shadow. We began our fifteen minute assault with The Method, which reduced the crowd from around fifteen to two. According to our sources, one young metal-loving fan, seated on a couch, sneered “this is soft” twenty seconds into our powerhouse opener, grabbed his girl’s hand, and strode out into the night, his testicles aflame with the wrath of artistic conviction. Having unburdened ourselves of the crowd’s closed-minded elements, we proceeded to rock the clothing off the two youngsters who had the horse-sense to know as soon as Chris had yowled the first few bars that they were in the presence of rare genius, uncommon greatness. Call it vanity: it gives us quite a bit of pleasure to forever change the lives and expectations of the young.

Welcome once again to this,

Welcome once again to this, the most potent News update on the web. There is, as the olde timey newsguys used to say, “News A’plenty, homes.” First topic: WAS’s upcoming show at L’Amour, slated to occur on ten November. This will of course be an explosive, butt-rockin’ show. Appearing on the same bill as us are two of our favorite bands: Mudrust and Ripped from the Cross. We’ve never heard their music, but, as no less than Beethoven put it, “It is false to believe that none can outshine melody, nor eclipse song, cracka’.” Did you know that Beethoven’s close friends and loved ones and children called him “Beat-down”?
To give you some idea of what kind of club L’Amour is, I offer the following factoids that I just moments ago gleaned via a visit to the website:
– Some bands that are playing there in upcoming weeks are (in reverse order of how much I fear them) Candria, Kataklysm, Type O Negative, Clutch Overkill, and Killbox.
– The web page features little animations of exploding balls of flame.
– L’Amour proclaims itself “the rock capital of Brooklyn”, and its website is, which suggests not only that it may in fact *be* the rock capital of Brooklyn, but also that the club may actually be called L’Amour Rocks, which would certainly be a nice touch.
– L’Amour is hiring. Folks with experience in bartending, ticket sales, booking, chicken-throat cutting, and covert ops are encouraged to apply.
– Competing in the third round of the semi-finals of the L’Amour Band Search 2001 will be Evil Adam, Gravesend, and Pipebomb. We highly recommend this show. Each of these bands gives a highly nuanced, *super* subtle performance, especially Pipebomb.
But there is far, far more to life than WAS performances; some of you I know struggle to see that, but it’s true. We can’t think of any examples right now, but they are out there, lingering in the dark fringes of our world.
Now, in terms of recording our CD, the official start-date has become Nov. 10. Seem kind of dubious, the way we keep pushing back that date? When do you start recording your CD, again? Sucka. The fact is, people, these things take time, and it’s all a very inexact process. Each time a CD gets made, it’s a small miracle. The audio sciences are still very mysterious, still very poorly understood. Heck, we barely understand them. I mean we do, we understand them fine, but that was like a figure of speech, ya know? Ahem.
You may have noticed that WAS songs quite often deal with the subject of love. If you know us personally, this may surprise you, because we are all incredibly cynical about love and in fact have vowed never again to drink from its cruel teat, all of our experiences in this area having started out delightfully then ended up but horribly. So this is kind of yet another case of a band just pumping out exactly what the fans need to hear. For we recognize that you are too weak to be weighed down by the truth, and so we protect you from it. Like a giant shield positioned in outer orbit to guard against rogue asteroids and their brethren the Global Killers (TM), WAS takes the truth square in the jaw so you don’t have to. We take it and then we go sit down with our broken jaws and we pump out a song that assures you, the innocents, that true love is just sitting right there across the laboratory in a labcoat with the same corporate seal as your own stitched onto the breast, that she is looking for you with as much timid vehemence as you are looking for her, and that when you do find her behind all the colored smoke and laser flashes, she’ll be ready for you, and you for her, all bets will be off, all jewelry mere decoration.
We keep you ignorant of timing, is what it boils down to. And for that you should thank us by coming to a show.