EH

They started in a warehouse behind a rich kid's house in Florida.

No one remembers whose idea the name was. No one takes credit for it. No one has ever explained it. At some point it was simply there — on a banner, on a set list, on the bass drum head — and the question of what it meant stopped being asked.

The band's early sound was described by their first manager as "Neil Diamond fronting Van Halen, but the Neil Diamond part is winning." He said this as a compliment. He was working at a Dairy Queen at the time. He is still working at that Dairy Queen.

Their original frontman was charismatic, theatrical, and genuinely gifted. He studied Diamond's phrasing. He studied Roth's stagecraft. He tried to split the difference and, for a while, it worked. Then he became interested in numerology. Then sigils. Then something quieter and harder to describe. He left the band before the first album finished mixing. He was later seen leading a congregation in a strip mall unit between a vape shop and a tax preparation office.

The rhythm guitarist stepped in. Not by ambition. By vacancy.

He understood the songs from the inside. That turned out to be enough.

What followed was six years, four distinct eras, one drummer whose age was not what anyone believed it to be, and a body of work that resists easy categorization. The albums grew larger. The compositions grew longer. The explanations grew fewer.

The band never broke up. They never announced a hiatus. They simply go quiet for years at a time and then return with something that requires multiple listens to locate.

EH is an ongoing account. Material is added as it is verified. — EH Records