Grumpy
ARTIST BIO
Heaven Schmitt, the front person of Grumpy, keeps their friends close and their exes closer. The keyboardist and bassist are Heaven’s ex girlfriends, the drummer is their ex-husband (the guitar player and Heaven never dated but there was one night when Heaven thought they might kiss but they didn’t).
The deep intimacy shared between the band’s members might explain the tantalizing sense of desire that echoes from song to song in Grumpy's growing catalog, and Heaven’s live band of exes also speaks to the way the Grumpy project is built on balancing beauty and ugliness, pleasure and pain, and recognizing that you can find truth and healing even in life’s most brutal moments. Their willingness to share the stage with people they have loved is coupled with a willingness to share moments that others might try to hide, and their sense of ease and humor provides the reassurance that you can find joy and inspiration in the painful side of love.
Originally based in Nashville, where Schmitt studied songwriting at Belmont University, before relocating to Chicago, Schmitt released a debut LP called Loser under the Grumpy name in 2020. Although it garnered a cult audience, Schmitt felt that due to a lack of confidence during the recording process the album never truly represented what they thought their band should be. It all fell into place when Schmitt moved to New York in 2022. On the East Coast Grumpy has transformed, leveling up adjacent to a buzzy corner of the Brooklyn scene.
The current Grumpy backing band includes Austin Arnold on drums, Lane Rodges on keys, Anya Good on bass, and Diego Clare on guitar. Being in an act with numerous exes isn’t always easy. However, Schmitt feels that it leads to an honest, nurturing dynamic. “I’m really drawn to people who — no matter what they’re going through, or what we’re going through — have a clear baseline of respect and care and love,” Schmitt says of their bandmates.
Grumpy’s new EP, Wolfed, will be released by New York City institution Bayonet Records. A riff on the slang expression “we ate,” to “wolf” means to power through something and absolutely kill it. The phrase does the EP’s boisterous spirit justice. Building on a dark fairy tale aesthetic, Wolfed casts ruminations on partnership, crushes, and separation in fantastical, commanding hues.
The EP was laid to tape in a Chicago home studio over the course of ten days, less than a week after Schmitt and Arnold’ decision to get divorced. “It was a bubble of intensity,” Schmitt says with a chuckle. “I cannot believe we made this record with what was going on.” The EP retains a thematic rawness that can only occur whencollaborators confront flaws, air grievances, and express remorse in real time, instruments in hand.
Across six tracks, Schmitt analyzes themself through the lens of different relationships, inviting listeners to gawk at the consequences their actions provoke. “You can’t play me like that / I’m loose peanuts in your bag / High as fuck at the RadioShack / Begging for a charger,” Schmitt sings on the first lines of opener “Saltlick,” their AutoTuned voice underlined by bouncy electronic beatmaking. On “Beach Towel,” they fantasize, in borderline voyeuristic detail, about benign moments shared with a romantic interest. “Protein” places bubbly, albeit neurotic storytelling atop an arrangement that could be ripped from an FM radio smash circa 2003. From front to back, Wolfed is equal parts humorous, chipper, and obliquely deprecating.
Schmitt isn’t afraid to wear ugliness and sincerity on their sleeve. But, for as steamy as Wolfed can be, the discomfort is permeated by a healthy dose of goofy introspection. Wolfed is vulnerable, amusing, and cartoonishly dramatic at the same time. Grumpy has emerged from a period of turbulence with a stronger stride.
