Rising Minneapolis-based indie rock band Bad Bad Hats — currently founding members Kery Alexander (vocals, guitar) and Chris Hoge (bass) along with newest member Con Davidson (drums) — can trace its origins back to when Alexander and Hoge met while attending Saint Paul-based Macalester College: the band’s founding duo had admired each other’s music on MySpace and the pair began writing songs together in 2010, eventually recording a collection of demos that would eventually comprise their debut EP.
Alexander and Hoge recruited their friend Noah Boswell (bass) to solidify their initial lineup and flesh out their sound. After playing in and around the Minneapolis area, the trio caught the attention of Afternoon Records, who signed the band and released their debut EP and their Brett Buillion-produced full-length debut, 2015’s Psychic Reader and 2018’s sophomore album Lightning Round.
hanges. Noah Boswell left the band and was replaced by Con Davidson — and as a result, some duties have been reshuffled: Hoge, who initially played drums is now playing bass. The Minneapolis-based trio recently signed to Don Giovanni Records, who will be releasing their highly anticipated third album, Walkman on September 17, 2021.
lkman’s first single “Detroit Basketball” derives its name from the call-and-response chant Pistons fans routinely fill Little Caesar’s Arena with during game night. The phrase stuck in Alexander’s head, and she later drew on it for inspiration. “Detroit Basketball” finds the rising Midwestern trio further refining their sound: sonically, the track is a breezy mix of power pop, 120 Minutes MTV-era alt rock and 00s pop punk centered around Alexander’s deeply personal songwriting, a rousingly anthemic, sing-along worthy chorus and an infectious hook. But underneath the song’s breezy infectiousness, the song balances bittersweet and sour as it’s one- part tell off to a lover that jilted its narrator, one-part feminist anthem in which its narrator boldly tells the world what she deserves and one-part tale of heartbreak by a cold and indifferent former lover — with a sort of winking acknowledgment of the whole ordeal’s shittiness.
The recently released video for “Detroit Basketball” is a playful and absurd romp: The video begins with the band disappearing off the face of the earth, and a devoted fan attempting to find them. We see that each of the members have started new, very weird careers — presumably as a result of the pandemic: Hoge has become devoted to placing miniature chip bags in bottles. Davidson has become a competitive puzzler. Alexander has become a motivational speaker for a rip off TED-like series. They each get summoned to reunite. Of course, there’s a workout montage. (I mean there has to be a workout montage) And then the band’s triumphant return — at a backyard birthday party in front of that devoted fan.