Recently, a friend of mine was the object of romantic pursuit by a guy who seemed like an objectively good catch, but, despite his numerous recommending traits, she simply couldn't seem to bring herself around to him. She thought he was "great," sure, but, when pressed, she insisted that, he was ultimately "just too nice." As a self-diagnosed nice guy, I was stricken by her assessment. Had I been unwittingly sabotaging my own romantic viability through years of spineless deference and unchallenging chivalry? Clearly, I had. Girls hate nice guys. At least I knew it now, though, and could subsequently use that knowledge against the rest of the world's population of perfectly pleasant gentleman callers. "Nice Guys," then, is my call to arms to those poor saps, my encouragement that they continue their nice, faulty courting practices, thereby thinning the herd of legitimately attractive romantic competitors who might someday come between me and some hot chick.

Musically, I just wanted the song to sound like something the late, great Oxford Collapse would have written. Just for clarification, the guys in Oxford Collapse aren't dead. The band has simply broken up. The members are all alive and well, despite having temporarily moved to places like Pittsburgh.

For further clarification, I just want to point out that all of us in We Are Scientists really love Pittsburgh. Once, many years ago, we had a marvelously cheap breakfast of ludicrous proportions there, and we still talk about it fondly, on occasion. We also named a song on our new record "Pittsburgh." The song is about sex.