Ludlow Saints wrote Let’s Fight in the back of a van after a gig that got a little too rowdy. Fueled by cheap coffee, bruised egos, and the thrill of turning tension into music, they hammered it out in one take at Grant Street Studios — no polish, no overdubs, just pure punk adrenaline. It’s short, loud, and built for sweaty rooms where the crowd knows every “HEY!” by heart.

Don’t Ask came out of a five-minute writing sprint in Ludlow Saints’ rehearsal space after someone kept peppering the band with “friendly” but nosy questions. They took that irritation straight into Grant Street Studios, cranked the amps, and let the song rip in a single take. It’s short, sharp, and gloriously blunt — the kind of track that says exactly what you’re thinking before you even have to say it.  

Ludlow Saints’ I Don’t Wanna Know was born out of a soundcheck riff that turned into a three-minute middle finger to overtalkers and drama kings. They tracked it at Grant Street Studios with amps cranked, mics bleeding, and zero interest in cleaning it up. The result is pure punk snarl — tight, fast, and dripping with “I’m over it” energy.

She Said Yes started as a joke in Ludlow Saints’ practice room when their drummer walked in late, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. Turns out, he’d finally worked up the nerve to ask someone out — and she actually said yes. Ten minutes later, the band had the riff, the gang vocals, and the kind of scrappy, grinning energy you can only capture in one take. Recorded at Grant Street Studios, it’s pure punk joy: loud, messy, and impossible not to yell along with.

My Guitar is Ludlow Saints at their most straight-ahead and unapologetic — a love song to the only constant they’ve ever trusted. Written in under ten minutes and recorded even faster at Grant Street Studios, it’s three chords, gang shouts, and zero fluff. No politics, no heartbreak — just pure volume and the joy of plugging in.

I Need a Drummer is Ludlow Saints in pure “real life crisis” mode — written the night their actual drummer quit two hours before a basement show. Tracked at Grant Street Studios with a borrowed kit and way too much caffeine, it’s a blistering 90-second plea for someone — anyone — to just keep time and hit hard. Equal parts desperation and dumb grin, it’s the sound of a band refusing to cancel.

Dirty Stage is Ludlow Saints’ love letter to every grimy club that ever smelled like beer, sweat, and broken gear. Written after a string of NYC dive gigs where the monitors cut out, the amps sparked, and the only light came from a neon beer sign, it’s equal parts punk pride and gallows humor. The riffs are jagged, the drums hit like trash can lids, and every shout in the chorus feels like a middle finger wrapped in duct tape.

No Guest List is pure Ludlow Saints chaos — inspired by the night they literally snuck into their own gig. After a mix-up at the door left them “not on the list,” they decided to climb in through the side alley, plug in, and start playing before anyone could stop them. The verses race like a getaway car, the choruses explode with gang-shouted defiance, and every chord feels like a jab at velvet-rope culture.

Don’t Rehearse is the Ludlow Saints’ loud, messy love letter to imperfection. Born from a night when their drummer missed soundcheck and the bass kept buzzing, they decided to skip the fine-tuning and just attack the stage like it owed them money. The result? Two minutes of gleeful, trashy mayhem where every missed note feels like a badge of honor. 

Sandy is the Ludlow Saints’ pop-punk crush anthem — a sugar rush of teenage obsession sparked by an old VHS of Grease and a heart that never learned to hit stop. It’s fast, bouncy, and so catchy it’ll stick in your head longer than the chorus to “Summer Nights.” Leather jackets, fairground rides, and a whole lot of bad ideas in under three minutes.