Welcome to AP&R, where we highlight rising artists who will soon become your new favorite.
Teenagers though they may be, Tyler Mabry and Harlow Phillips exude wisdom beyond their years. The Atlanta duo, who make up the emo-folk powerhouse hey, nothing, have championed the dubiousness of TikTok virality in the last couple of years without sacrificing lyricism that lays all cards on the table through their raw, memorable sound — an amalgamation of Modern Baseball, Modern Lovers, and Anthony Green, played at the folk-punk pace of Violent Femmes. Last year, they released their debut album, We’re Starting to Look Like Each Other, which offered a deeper dive into the group, and the artists in it. The group’s name was borrowed from a character in The Perks of Being a Wallflower, who asks to be called by their name or “nothing at all.” The reference is apt — a coming-of-age story that unravels the beauty, connectedness, pain, and trauma of adolescence, friendship, and family — many of the same themes the band bring to the forefront of their music. Though their debut delivered nothing but brutal, enchanting honesty, their most recent release, an EP titled Maine — after the state it was recorded in, in the “sunroom of Phillips’ grandmas house,” as well as an acclaimed single, which became the project’s heart-wrenching final song — takes it to new heights. Its opening track, “The Sink,” which lead to one of hey, nothing’s viral moments, excavates addiction, one of the heavier topics that has permeated their catalog alongside the tribulations of relationships, love, and leaving home.
Read more: In conversation with Anthony Green and End Overdose founder Theo Krzywicki
What hey, nothing have accomplished is something special and truly spectacular, a project imbued with their very own vulnerable and difficult emotions that somehow avoids being glib and, rather, holds its arms open to the listener like a rough and understanding hug. This is, in part, due to the musicianship at hand. Built upon Mabry’s furious riffage and thoughtful guitar parts, Phillips’ spine-tingling vocals, and climatic percussion, their unique talents are undeniable, but it’s the glue of their absolute humanness, connection, and creative compatibility that’s had us really hooked on hey, nothing. The band have been fervently on the road, playing a slew of sold-out headline dates in July, and will go out with the Moss in October, supporting them on a North American run.
What did you grow up listening to?
HARLOW PHILLIPS: ABBA, Cher, and lots of ’50s/’60s music.
TYLER MABRY: Johnny Cash was my favorite artist as a small child. Lots of alternative and emo music like the Front Bottoms, Cage the Elephant, and twenty one pilots as I got a little older.
What are you listening to now?
PHILLIPS: Lots of “girl pop” like Chappell Roan and Sabrina Carpenter and Americana/folk like Sierra Ferrell and Willow Avalon.
MABRY: Lots of emo/folk — Manchester Orchestra, the Avett Brothers, and Modern Baseball.
If you had to describe hey, nothing to someone who had never heard the band before, how would you do so — in a sentence?
Alternative/emo/folk rock that will make you not only laugh but also cry.
What about just in one word?
Handsome.
As you’ve gotten more attention and opportunity, how, if at all, has your relationship with the internet, and social media, changed? Do you read the comments?
We read comments probably more than we should. We definitely owe most of our success to social media for giving us a platform to share our art. Definitely a love-hate relationship, though.
Given that you are in an age group that grew up with the internet, what would you say are the biggest gifts that social media has given to society, and for artists?
The biggest gift of social media, I think for everyone, is the ability to have a platform and to be able to not only speak publicly but also be heard by a larger audience that you would’ve never reached without it. It allows us to easily share our message, our stories, and art.
What was the first song, album, or artist you heard that made you think you could, and wanted to, do this too?
PHILLIPS: Grace VanderWaal.
MABRY: twenty one pilots.
Go-to snacks — on the road, and in the green room?
On the road: Corn Nuts, Nerds Gummy Clusters, Heat Peanuts, and blue Powerade Zero. In green room: watermelon, grapes, carrots and ranch, and chips and salsa.
How has your friendship changed since starting the band? What’s that trajectory been like?
It’s definitely grown us closer by forcing us to get used to being around each other 24/7. We’ve learned a lot about managing the way we treat each other, especially when we’re trapped in a car together for a month at a time. It’s also helped us trust each other not only creatively but in most aspects of everyday life.
You tackle pretty vulnerable, sometimes painful topics, like substance abuse and heartbreak. What’s the story behind that — do you find it cathartic? Has it ever felt difficult having those narratives out there so publicly, having to be in them so much?
We both have our own experiences with the things mentioned, and we find it very healing to write about them as they’re happening. It’s a little scary initially putting them out to the world, but as soon as we see that it’s helping someone else, it becomes even more healing for us.
Do you believe that pain is required to create true art?
Not at all. Art, to us, is about capturing a moment in time that has some sort of significance or relativity to the human experience. Pain can be very confusing to articulate, though, so for us, making music and writing is how we work through that confusion.
What was the last time you laughed until you cried?
There’s a Jeopardy! game on our Roku that we play with our friends. We always come up with the absolute worst names possible. One of the names was “Melissatits,” and that had all of us in tears. We were also doing so incredibly bad that we started answering questions wrong intentionally, which made for a really funny game.
What’s been your best show yet?
Ukie Club in Philadelphia. We finished the set and just stood onstage sobbing and hugging while the crowd cheered. There is so much love in that city.
Which song of yours is your favorite and why?
PHILLIPS: “Too Drunk to Drive” because it never gets old, no matter how much we play it.
MABRY: “Maine” because it feels most like what we’ve wanted to sound like since we’ve started, and all of the lyrics and performances are out of genuine emotion.
