By Andy McFerren
Photos by Ivan Martinez
It’s like we’re watching them level up in real time, both lyrically and sonically.
The story of Krooked Kings began before the band ever played a single note together. At eighteen years old, lead singer Oliver Martin left home on a religious mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints – a church that’s part of a larger, American-born faith tradition commonly referred to as Mormonism. He started this mission with hope and excitement, but that soon turned to despair and hopelessness. After four months in South America, the young Martin faced severe mental and emotional challenges in the form of depression, anxiety, and even suicidal thoughts. So he returned home to receive treatment, and luckily began to get better.
What followed was a journey of self-discovery. Shortly thereafter, Martin left the church of his religious upbringing. And as one door closes, another one opens: the ending of one chapter of Martin’s life became the beginning of the next.
“Leaving the church really served as a catalyst for me to put pen to paper,” says Martin. “I truly wanted and prayed to believe, but when that wasn’t working, I think all those emotions made their way into our songwriting, which has been a definite influence in our music. I think the hardest and most rewarding part of leaving is learning to put trust in yourself – but that is something I still try to practice every day.”
While a schism from faith inspired Martin to start writing music, the band’s message is one of unity.
“Really, the goal is to have people find their own stories from their own lives within the song,” explains the band, emphasizing that this includes people from all backgrounds, from the “faith-abiding Christian” to (with a bit of tongue-in-cheek humor) the “sinning heathen.” Regardless, their goal is singular: to help as many people as they can through their music.
“We want to be a band that impacts as many people as possible,” says Oli Martin. “I know that might sound pretentious or intangible, but I think everyone has had experiences where music has touched them and inspired them for the better. A lot of our songs are sad, but I think we want to be a force of positivity and empathy. We want to be something that tells people they aren’t alone – as much as a band can anyway.”
Krooked Kings are a five-piece band from Salt Lake City, Utah consisting of Oli Martin (lead vocals, guitar), Paul Colgan (guitar), David Macey (keys), Matt Monosson (bass), and Quinn Casper (drums). Despite the tumultuous, deeply philosophical experiences from Oli’s past, the band keeps it light. To the casual observer, they’re just a bunch of bros, busting each other’s chops and cracking jokes – frequently referencing the many acts of stupidity of their shared past.
The story of these guys coming together sounds like something out of a movie: Oli and Paul start a band and eventually recruit their childhood friends, Matt and Dave. Matt had never even played bass until Oli convinced him to. They get their start playing frat parties, and things really start to click once they find a consistent drummer in Quinn. It’s always the drummers that make it click: Neil Peart, Dave Grohl, Travis Barker—but I digress.
Each member of the band came from a drastically different musical background, ranging from jazz to ‘90s alternative to house and everything else in between. Regardless, they made it work, landing on an en vogue indie rock sound. While the world stopped for most people with the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, things blew up for the band. When they gained some traction on social media, the rest was history.
“It’s hard to pinpoint a moment when it felt like things were really changing for us,” says Martin about 2022 when the needle started to move for the band. “The progress has really felt slow and steady. That was the year we recorded ‘All Out of Good Days’ which felt like a milestone because it was the first time we had a real budget on an album and we got to work with Day Wave, who produced it, who really helped us refine our sound. I think we were all just really excited. It felt like we might actually be able to do this full time.”
Of course, it’s taken years of consistent effort for them to get here. The only overnight successes that happen anymore are the result of endless hard work, and in this age of increasingly short attention spans with everyone vying for our attention, the effort required to stay relevant is never ending. Someone is only an “overnight success” from the fans’ point of view.
The work didn’t start when they went viral, nor does it end after any amount of success.
For anyone who has ever denigrated the amount of work it takes for a band to be successful in the reign of TikTok and social media, they’ve clearly never had to try it. There is a reason they call it a grind.
Life is funny that way. One day you’re playing frat parties with your buddies, and the next you’re playing a nationwide tour together and your song “Sick of Being Young” enters the Top 50 on US Alternative Radio.
Even after the success of “Sick of Being Young” in 2023, the band was left with lots to decide about their future. So in June of 2023, they spent the month living in a small, charming house on the eastside of Los Angeles, California. In that month they wrote and recorded a new album.
“At the time we were a band coming to grips with what a future in music might look like for us. Looming over us was an uncertainty about what was to come, as was a nervous excitement for the branching possibilities that sprawled out before us,” the band shared in a social media post last February. “It felt like we were in the eye of a tornado. It was a time of reflection, a time in which we created a snapshot of our pasts, our presents, our futures, and the ghosts that haunted them.”
The result was their third album Shiver.
“We had a good amount of song ideas before going to LA, most of which ended up on the cutting room floor so to speak. All the songs were definitely fleshed out in that house,” says Martin. “ It was a pretty small house. There were only three beds so we had to trade off between those and the couch and an air mattress. It was very intimate. Who knows how that affected the writing? Maybe it made our songs a little more personal? Or maybe just grumpier.”
Regardless, the album is a reflection of their time spent in these last few years since the band has taken off, how their lives have changed, and confronting those ghosts.
“Everyone has their own things that haunt them, that take up the space in the corners of their mind, regrets and anxieties and frustrations,” says Martin.
“I think we were all trying to confront those things personally while writing, so we ended up with what looks like a bit of a mixed bag in terms of song topics.”
In many ways, the album is about growing up, demonstrating the growth the band has gone through musically and in life in general. This manifests in their songwriting and their sound. It’s no longer just catchy indie/surf rock (not that there’s anything wrong with catchy indie/surf rock), but there’s depth to it. There’s a maturity that wasn’t present on their first two albums.
This maturity is evident from the very beginning. Whether it’s the heartfelt “Letter to a Past Self,” or a reflection on life and death in the song “Catacombs,” it’s something new that we haven’t seen from the band. The rest of the album is just as contemplative: messages of hope through the lens of mental health and other life struggles—all disguised with the sounds of indie rock bops, slick guitar licks, and airy melodies. It’s a sound that’s familiar and similar to their previous albums, but without sounding redundant. It’s improved. It’s like we’re watching them level up in real time, both lyrically and sonically.
You can tell that the band cares for each other. As they navigate the chaos that is breaking out into the hellscape that is the current music industry, they have each other’s backs. And while we may romanticize what it’s like to be in a band, there have been enough movies, documentaries, and articles to know that just because bands make awesome music together doesn’t mean that they actually get along.
But Krooked Kings are growing up, and they’re doing it together with optimism. “None of us know what the future is for us. Good things, we hope,” says Martin. “‘Letter to a Past Self’ serves as a reminder to that younger version of myself that everything will work out okay.”
