Hailing from New York City, SNOWMEN is a band born out of college friendships, dim-lit rehearsal rooms, and a shared obsession with the raw energy of downtown rock. The members met in school, and after a string of wild shows as a cover band, the group realized they had found something of their own. Originals came next—fast, loud, and fully charged.
Drawing influence from the razor-sharp wit of Parquet Courts, the emotional sprawl of Car Seat Headrest, the dance-floor instinct of James Murphy, and the sleek, mechanical pulse of Daft Punk, SNOWMEN channel the electricity of New York’s underground into something urgent and unmistakably theirs. Stylistically, they sit comfortably alongside rising post-punk innovators like Model/Actriz, shame, Yard Act, Squid, Black Country, New Road, and the chaotic swagger of Viagra Boys or IDLES—artists they’ve often been compared to and would fit naturally beside on any stage.
The band’s explosive live show is already local legend. Their February 2024 set at Alphaville became a turning point: a packed room, crowdsurfers spinning across the top of the pit, and a sea of unfamiliar faces screaming lyrics back at them. Friends onstage, strangers in the crowd, and a night that confirmed they were onto something real.
Their debut album, A Kick to the Face, captures that same intensity. The title speaks both to their sonic identity—beat-drops, sudden impacts, and songs that hit as hard as they move—and to the struggles of making music in their early years: the exhaustion, the setbacks, the determination to push through. Recorded in a rehearsal space over a single month, the album is a testament to creativity under pressure. With almost no budget and one microphone, SNOWMEN locked themselves in their rehearsal studio day and night, learning how they wanted to make records. The result is raw, honest, and meticulous—a snapshot of a band becoming itself in real time.
Its lead single, “Zero Zero One,” digs deeper than its combustible energy suggests. Inspired by the machinery of government messaging, and the 9/11 memorial,, the song explores the speed at which media moves and how digital platforms are both a refuge from and an extension of institutional control. It’s heady, sharp, and emblematic of the band’s instinct to say something without ever sacrificing momentum.
Elsewhere on the record—like the power-pop/art-rock rush of “Goslings” or the Hüsker Dü-tinged sprint of “Make Time / Waste Time”—SNOWMEN show their range. The point of the album is honesty, impulse, and capturing the moment when the songs were written. The band is deeply well-listened, drawing from decades of influences without ever sounding trapped by them. The references are there if you want to find them, but SNOWMEN care more about what you hear rather than what they intended. At its core, SNOWMEN is a band committed to feeling—to the energy of the room, the collision of ideas, and the thrill of sharing something that hits as hard live as it does in your headphones. They’re building something unique in the middle of Bushwick’s noise and chaos: a sound that connects past and future, dance and punk, introspection and pure adrenaline.
SNOWMEN isn't just one thing. It’s everything that makes New York music exciting right now—loud, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore.