Pronounced “Nice,” Niis is a Los Angeles punk band made up of vocalist Mimi SanDoe, guitarist Ryan McGuffin, drummer Monte Najera, and bassist Izabell. After introducing themselves with 2020’s noisy, politically charged Not Niis EP, they significantly expanded their repertoire – and the runtime of their songs – with 2022’s Must Be… EP. “I want off this fucking planet,” SanDoe declared on ‘Utopia’, so now, three years later, they bring us Niis World. Clocking in at just 26 minutes, Niis’ debut full-length superchargers their virulent, uncompromising sound while embracing the band’s melodic ear as well as a heightened vulnerability in SanDoe’s lyrics. “I’ll cut you out, I’ll burn you down,” she sings on ‘The Bow’; on the next track, she’s suddenly self-lacerating: “I only bring you down/ Whenever I come around.” The group’s style, ranging wider without running low on hooks, deftly responds to the power dynamics shifting from song to song. By the end, you’re under no illusion that we’ve reached some kind of utopia, yet this world feels a little nicer for letting you be a part of it.
We caught up with Niis’ Mimi SanDoe and Ryan McGuffin for the latest edition of our Artist Spotlight series to talk about how they came together, the process behind Niis World, catharsis, and more.
Most people will see your band name and spend at least a little bit of time thinking about how to pronounce it. How did it come up?
Ryan McGuffin: I hadn’t been playing in bands for some time, and I had been writing a lot of music and just labeling it as “nice,” spelled grammatically correct. And then finally, when this band formed and it clicked with all the right people, that name was just thrown into the pot, and it clicked. Obviously, there were a lot of conflicts with that name, even outside of other bands having that same name. Just Googling the word “nice,” you’re not really gonna get much. Great. We got to this point where things were feeling more serious, so we’re like, “Okay, we need to figure out our name. There were ideas to change the name entirely, but this idea of spelling the name differently came into play. Honestly, at first, I was like, “Let’s just change the name to something else entirely.” But I think over time, it’s really sunk in as the name for us, especially with what you were saying. People stop, they look at the name, they have to think about it, and I think it ingrains the name in you visually, in a way. With something like that, you really have to be like, “Wait, what am I looking at? What is this word?”
You started putting out music as a group in 2020. How long had you all known each other by that point?
Mimi SanDoe: We had known each other for a couple of years at that point. We’ve known each other for a long time now, and then our newest members have been people we’ve met recently who just really clicked with the band.
Do you mind sharing your first impressions of each other?
MS: Oh, yeah. Our old bands played a show together at this little venue, I think that’s the first time we met. I was super young and crazy at that time, so I don’t really remember too much. [laughs] It was a pretty wild time back then.
RM: We were just kind of in the same scene. I think bands just kind of form out of that. I was trying to start this new project, and Mimi chimed in, like, “Yo, can I come try and sing?” I’m like, “Fuck yeah.”
What felt different to you about this band coming out of the scene?
RM: At that point, I had played music with so many different people. I don’t think I was necessarily trying to start a band; I was just playing music with people and friends, and I’d transitioned out of touring and trying to play shows all the time. But when Mimi came into the room, it just kind of clicked. I think people try to do stuff together all the time, and it’s hard to explain, but it’s like when it clicks, it clicks.
MS: It felt very much like a movie at practice the first time. It was scary and a little intimidating, but when we first jammed, it just felt natural and it was just really easy from the beginning to write together. There was not a lot of pressure to fake it till you make it. It just bloomed really easily into what it was.
What was it like trying to figure out your sound or identity as a punk band when touring wasn’t an option?
RM: I don’t think it affected me. I feel pretty neutral about it. I just kept doing what I do, which is play music I love, being in the practice space and just playing music, whether we’re writing or not. I just like that space. And then it’s just about having a good time and exploring ideas with these friends that you’ve found that help you to express what you’re trying to express. Whether that’s happening in a practice space or on stage – that’s what being a band is. When I go see a band and I can still tell that it’s about what’s happening between them – sometimes bands are really disjointed, and you can tell they don’t even talk to each other. They’re just performing. No, I think when you go see a band, it’s about getting to be a part of their world – their communication and their expression that happens when they’re together. So the pandemic didn’t really change anything for me – be in a room and play music all the time? That’s what I already do.
MS: For me, it definitely influenced a lot of my lyrics. When we were writing during the pandemic, the state of the world was really crazy, and it was kind of all I was inspired by at the time. We recorded our first EP shortly after lockdown, and I was feeling hyper-political and like hyper – I don’t know – upset. And scared, as a lot of people were. So yeah, I got a lot of yeah, writing inspiration from that. And before, when we were writing the EP, I was watching shows Chernobyl and writing lyrics about that because I’m really inspired, unfortunately, by how the government and the systems continuously let the people down. That’s kind of all I wanted to write about at that time, and it’s changed a little bit as we’ve matured as a band. But I’m still writing about some of that.
One might look at the album title and see the irony of it, the political implications of it, but once you actually listen to the music, it’s clear you’re sincerely bringing the listener into your own world. You’re diving into more personal themes like heartbreak and betrayal. Transitioning from the EPs to this record, were there conversations or reservations about those lyrical shifts?
MS: I feel like most of the time the band doesn’t know what I’m saying till like the record zines are done or unless I like— I’m very precious and personal with my lyrics; it’s poetry to me. I’ve always written poetry. I get a little embarrassed sometimes, and honestly, putting out a record is a very vulnerable experience, because it’s like putting your diary out into the world. At least for me, that’s how I feel. But the band will always let me do what I want with the lyrics, and then Ryan will come up with a riff, and then we’ll build around it, and then I’ll try to sing in the studio. But most of the time I come home and sit with the song and do homework on it right there. Because I like to really focus and think very hard about what I’m writing about.
Can you talk more about your dynamic when you’re bouncing ideas off each other? Is it something you feel has solidified by now, or is it still fluid as you work on new music?
RM: Very fluid. I think we’re both very careful to not express exactly what we want to do. It happens in really subtle ways of, like, just sharing a song, or knowing what’s going on in each other’s lives. It’s just about keeping the openness to that collaboration, and that happens own magic organic way. I feel like just leaving room for everyone to have their own creative process is really important, because I think that’s what makes so many bands great: a melting pot of a bunch of people bringing inspiration and style and their own flair to the song.
Mimi, do you feel like there’s a bit of a dichotomy between your private songwriting and the public side of being in a band?
MS: I don’t know. I think so. At least my best girlfriends, when I write a song, I will show them and they know exactly who it’s about, exactly why I felt inspired to write it and it’s really relatable. I try to write from my perspective – I don’t know, as a woman, my feminine perspective. I feel like a lot of music is written from a man’s perspective. When I’m hurt by something is when I write what I consider like my best work, so I try to use heartbreak and the pain for something positive. Sometimes my lyrics can be really poignant and less than metaphorical, but I can’t imagine really writing from a super obscure perspective. I think it’s cool when people do that; I wish I had that.
I was wondering if you could talk about the you in ‘Scatter’, because it sounds blurry enough that it could include the listener and not some distant enemy, someone affected by nihilism or loneliness.
MS: Yeah, a hundred percent. I really ‘Scatter’ to be a song someone could listen to and be really introspective about – when I was writing that song, a friend of mine was really going through something, and I was going through something with them, and it really made me stop and think a lot. That song is kind of scattered in itself – there’s so much different inspiration and pain and questioning that I personally was going through. One of the main things is being a follower and not listening to yourself, and I hope people listen to that and think for themselves. I mean, I’m sure people already do. They don’t need me to tell them, obviously. It’s about exploring ways to not be so lonely – I think I was reading some statistic. We’re all so separated and so confused by the media, and angry because of the media at each other. That song is all over the place, but I really love it.
Both Niis World and Must Be Nice kick off with their longest songs. This record’s ‘Low Life’ makes for an incredibly dynamic opener, but I wonder if there was a specific intention behind that.
RM: I don’t think I even realized that!
MS: I didn’t either. [laughs]
RM: It makes sense though, because we do have songs where we talk about having a build-up into a song. Some of our songs just start – actually a lot of them. So when formulating the instrumental side of things, we’ll kind of be like, “Well, let’s build this one up in the beginning.” We’ve done that a few times, and those become great songs for us to start live sets with. I think those songs naturally feel good at the beginning of something. So it makes sense that we’d put ‘Big Zoo’ at the beginning of the EP, because it does have that drawn-out beginning. And honestly, ‘Low Life’ becoming the first track on the record was a very late call in making the record. I never thought of it as an opening track, but there was a moment where it just clicked, and I was like, “Oh shit! This is the first song.” There was no question to that – it just made sense. The other option for a first song would have been something like ‘Spite’, which is also on the longer side. These are songs that have that “We’re going to give you a second to take your seat” vibe.
On the next song, ‘The Bow’, you all sound so locked in – just insane performances all around. What are your memories of recording it?
RM: Our songwriting is definitely changing and evolving, and the first two songs on the record were the last songs that really came together. I’ll be perfectly honest – a lot of people don’t finish a record when they start listening to it. I think that’s why we chose them as singles. A lot of people will just listen to a few songs by a band they like and be like, “Yeah, I like that band,” and only like that band because of a couple songs. So we wanted to put at the forefront what we feel we’re growing into and what we’re becoming as a band.
MS: When we were writing ‘The Bow’, when we first played it in the practice space, we definitely were all like, “Okay, this is our favorite song on the record.” It was really special to us, and definitely had to be a single. When we were writing it, for me personally, I was in the peak of heartbreak. So it’s very emotional for me – to sing even. But were like, “This is the direction we want to be moving in.” It was a very big moment.
Does that catharsis feel different when you’re writing a song like that versus playing it in a room full of people?
MS: Yeah. The catharsis honestly sets me free from the situation I’m writing about. I was in so much pain and heartbroken, and then to have an avenue where I could use that pain for something productive – maybe someone else feeling it and listening would also feel that catharsis. There’s nothing more… I can’t recommend writing music enough. If you’re really going through something, you write it, you record it, which is honestly a hard process – it’s tough to stay in that emotional space, singing over and over about what hurt you so much. But when you’re done and you have it, and can listen to it and it’s real… There’s nothing more cathartic.
And then I got to play those songs for the person who caused me that pain. It was pretty poetic justice, especially because this person was front row, bobbing their head along, smiling, no idea what I’m singing about. But to me, this was a huge moment that completely helped set me free. Now I look back at this heartbreak and I’m like, “Oh wow, I’m so glad I got these songs out of it.” I don’t feel anything for this person anymore except gratitude. I’m so grateful for every heartbreak and pain because I got so much out of it – it was worth it, even though it sucked.
Could you share one thing that inspires you about being in this band with these people?
MS: Ryan, you wanna go first?
RM: I’m having a hard time with this question. I feel really grateful and fortunate to do something where I get to express something creatively with other people and have it not be my own thing. I went to school for painting and painted for years – another creative expression, but I found it incredibly isolating. I always grew up messing around with guitar and playing music with people, but I think I needed that experience and an isolating creative process to realize the magic of music, and more so the magic of being in a band – when you collaborate that way and stay open to the song belonging to everyone, instead of just “I wrote this song, here’s what you’re singing, here’s what you’re playing.” I’m in it to have an experience that I’m not capable of doing on my own – relinquishing that control and letting the magic happen, because anything you do with other people is going to be greater than what you can do by yourself. If anyone is walking through this world thinking what they do on their own is better than what they can do with other people, that seems pretty sad to me. I’m grateful that being in a band and collaborating with these people affords me the opportunity to not fall into that mind trap.
MS: I just really love the connection that this band has afforded me – connecting with the people I write music with, but also every time we play a show, connecting with the people who come to see us play, connecting with other musicians we’re playing with. I struggle a lot with feeling alone. I think that’s just part of the human experience. But especially in a world where our lives are ruled by social media and phones, it’s so easy to get stuck in the virtual world and not have connection in the physical world. When we go on tour, I get to meet all these people I would never know, and people come up to me and say the music we write means something to them, and that is a form of connection, even if we’ve never met before. That is probably the most special aspect of this band to me.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.
Niis’ Niis World is out now via Get Better Records.
