The Hell Club are leaning into the nihilism of this strange new world we’re living in. Their new song, “Ha Ha Hey Hey,” is a fun escape from it all.
Mitchell McDermott recently spoke with WYEP's Joey Spehar.
What’s your musical history up to this point?
Wow, it’s been a long journey. I started playing piano before I could even remember. Music is the only thing that’s ever made sense to me. My father was an amateur piano player, and I’d sit on his lap and play as a kid. I remember sitting with my Walkman, learning “Had Me A Real Good Time” by The Faces by ear, rewinding second by second to get it just right.
I began composing music at age six, writing songs at nine, and producing music in Ableton Live by 12. Nothing I’d share today… just weird experimental electroacoustic rock pieces, pop song mashups, and embarrassingly dumb and vulgar hip-hop tracks.
I took dance classes, performed in musical theater productions, and played in rock bands all throughout high school. I was also on the drumline in the showband, which was always first period. I’d get there early every morning to play the piano and skip class whenever possible to sneak off and play the Steinway tucked away in the theater set shop.
During my junior year, I met my musical soulmates, who eventually became The Summercamp. We’d go to parties, and inevitably, there’d be a moment when we’d escape to some corner room or back porch and serenade each other all night long. Even though we later parted ways musically, Connor and Harrison remain some of my biggest musical influences — and dear friends.
Then I left Pittsburgh to study songwriting at Berklee [College of Music] (a b****** major, I quickly learned). I met some of the most talented people I’ve ever met in my life and saw some of the best live music in Allston basements or Backbay apartments. I learned more outside of the classroom than I did inside. I feel so lucky I got to experience bands and artists like Model/Actriz, Bear Salon, Baerd, Dora Jar, Mosie, Flamingo Club, Maddie Jay & The PH Collective (whose members now back Remi Wolf and Clairo). Endlessly inspired, I was often left overwhelmed and dealing with intense imposter syndrome. Those artists inspired me more than any household names ever could. That environment birthed many of these songs I’m finally releasing as The Hell Club.
I left Berklee for a few years after completely losing my goddamn mind. Literally. Eventually, I healed, toured briefly with Nox Boys, and made The Summercamp EP. Then COVID hit, and I returned to Berklee, this time switching to electronic production.
Somewhere along the way, I got inspired to imagine the future of music. That led me into software development — but always with a focus on music and creative applications. So, I started building: plugins, guitar pedal prototypes, new digital instruments, and weird performance systems that let you control the 3D placement of sound through physical gestures.
I became obsessed with the idea of malleable music — digital music that wasn’t fixed, music that could evolve over time. I got to work with the MIT Media Lab, spent time at the Human Robotics Lab at Imperial College London, and earned my master’s in Sound + Music Computing from Queen Mary University of London.
While living in London, I’d occasionally fly to Spain to tour with Zack Keim’s solo project, and I never stopped writing. After finishing my degree, I struggled to find jobs in Europe, so I came back home.
Now I’m back in Pittsburgh — and I’m done hiding my music away. I’m circling back to the songs that started it all: tracks I wrote a decade ago and never released. They’re finally coming out under my new project, **The Hell Club**—one song a month, for the rest of the year.
How do you describe your sound?
Indie alt rock hymns for the end times. Heartbreakers and bone-shakers, barrel-agers and sound-manglers. For fans of Father John Misty, Pavement, Jack White, Elliott Smith.
Tell us more about the song “Ha Ha Hey Hey.” What inspired you to write it, and what does it mean to you?
That first line: “I woke up with my shirt on backwards.” I probably quite literally did wake up in my college dorm room with my shirt on backwards. But it also captured the disorienting existential smudge I inhabited, sludging my way through the early days of the first Trump administration.
My buddy Travis actually wrote that riff when we were jamming at his place. That intro riff. I instantly knew it was something special, so I stole it. It was just so freaking cool, man. That chromatic walk-down with the little trip-ups. I’m such a slut for chromaticism. It sounded like someone stubbing their toe. And it perfectly captured what we were all feeling — like the world was breaking into tiny little pieces that would eventually dissolve into nothing.
I’d just started at Berklee. Thrown into this crazy world with all these wild personalities and insanely talented people. “I go to school with a bunch of actors,” I remember thinking. Everyone was always performing. Not just on stage, but in the hallways, in conversations, at parties. It felt like you couldn’t tell where the performance ended, and the person began.
I remember feeling overwhelmed by the rising digital media landscape. At one party, this guy just lost it. Full-blown panic attack in the middle of the room. “Book! Film! TV! YouTube! Snapchat! Instagram… DEATH!” he shouted, terrified by the approaching singularity.
We were all confused. About everything. We were all crushed by the new political leadership. I leaned heavy into the nihilism of it all. This song became my way of detaching — my way of numbing myself to that strange new world.
“Ha ha, hey hey, let the bad vibes wash away.”
I guess there’s a little Neil Young in that line too… “Hey hey, my my.”
What was the first album that really changed your life?
"American Idiot" by Green Day. I stumbled upon it on my sister’s Windows Media Player playlist when I was maybe eight years old, and I hadn’t heard anything like it. I was just enamored. The epic theatricality of it all. The grand narrative arc.
My parents talked politics with us from a young age, so I was pretty aware of what was going on with the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan — and the public reaction to it. Well, as aware as an eight-year-old can be.
That record really set the foundation for me. There’s a clear thread from that record to the music I make now: the political critiques, the satire of modern American life, the religious symbolism, the “fuck you” attitude. It’s all there.
Who are some other Pittsburgh artists you think more people should listen to?
Merce Lemon — I know plenty of people are already listening to her, but she still deserves the shoutout. She made one of my favorite records of the year, period — not just among Pittsburgh artists. I’d heard her name around the scene for years, but we never met, and I never saw her play. I’m so glad she’s getting the national attention she deserves with "Watch Me Drive Them Dogs Wild" — that record is unbelievable. I’d love to work with her someday.
Natural Rat — I’d been out of the Pittsburgh scene for a while, and this was the first band I saw when I moved back that really hit me. Goddamn, Kelsie Cannon. A force.
Animal Scream — the homies. Chad and Josh are otherworldly.
Is there anything else super interesting about you that we should know?
I can't whistle. I’ve never smoked a cigarette. And I believe in God.
