Of the plethora of New Jersey-based acts to break into the crowded contemporary indie scene over the last several years, Asbury Park’s Kevian Kraemer is, arguably, the most distinctive.
Though his Jersey roots run deep, he currently does not have a hometown show scheduled for his upcoming US tour. “People back home don’t believe it yet,” he said with a smirk. “I keep getting DM’s like, ‘Yo, when are you announcing Jersey’s show?”, and I’m like “ … fuck.” He’ll likely return in 2027 for a triumphant gig at the famed Stone Pony in Asbury Park. “It’ll be lights out,” he said confidently.
At just 20 years old, Kraemer has regularly showcased a level of musicianship, forbearance, and a wide palette of vocal techniques and flavors that are staggeringly advanced, and has done so since his mid-teens. Recorded performances of songs like “Fly,” “One More Night,” and “Neptune” for the recurring Audiotree Live and Lakehouse Recording Sessions reflect these traits, highlighting his efficiency as a front man and a receptor of the efforts of his bandmates. An electric show at the Mercury Lounge in NYC this past summer, played in support of his 2024 EP Jersey or Mars, was also a wonderfully complete offering of his abilities.
His latest EP, only if it matters, is out now. The project contains his most developed collection of work yet, including its highlight, the effervescently poetic “how can you tell?” with a truly befitting use of saxophone. Like a lilac in the spring/ Like I’m seein’ brand new colors/ Feel the silver from your rings/ Like a mark to make me suffer.” The poetry comes from not just his lyricism, but from the myriad of vocal inflections he utilizes throughout and the usage of a satisfyingly appropriate audio sample from the 1950’s short drama How Do You Know It’s Love? Additional tracks such as “does it still mean something,” “I just get worse,” and “menthol” explore various degrees of expressiveness and methods of yearning for a second chance at love with a particular subject.
Creatively, Kraemer has found himself in the thick of a growing clique of songwriters within the Nashville community, comprised of lead artists Knox and Will Linley, songwriters Spenser Jordan and Chase Cimala, and producers Mickey Brandolino and Cameron “Cam” Becker, among others. The collective often embarks on weeklong writing trips, typically with the intention of working on songs for one specific member, though the creative atmosphere and evident rapport often leads to spreading the wealth of material. Brandolino, directly involved in the creation of the bulk of this project, allowed Kraemer the freedom to circumvent his way through to a finished product of seven eclectic, contemplative songs. The working relationship of the pair has proven to be unorthodox for those unaware of their process, yet fruitful amongst themselves.
I have a question about Jersey.
[Cocks his head back] Sup?
Do you think that the style of music that has come out of there over the last few years; Sam MacPherson, The Spins, Adam Melchor, etc., has forced your hand as far as making more adult contemporary style music?
Nah! Absolutely not. When I was younger, I was making straight pop, which was very, VERY weird for the scene I grew up in and the bands I was into. Everyone was like, ‘Whoa, you’re making THIS?’ We don’t have pop producers in Jersey. They’re all in New York or LA. As time has passed, I’ve found my own sound. I might be leaning more towards the Sam MacPherson’s and the Joe P’s, but I’m definitely not trying to. Asbury has a lot of really diverse people. We have FLETCHER, we have Joe P, 54 Ultra. You can make whatever you want in Asbury, but it is very much a grunge rock scene. That is what it’s always been.
Can you recall a Jersey-area gig you attended as a fan that sparked your desire to build the musician-focused show that you have?
I’ve been to so many shows, and I’ve been doing music for a good percentage of my short amount of life. When I was starting to really get into music professionally, there was an incredible lineup at my local festival, The Sea Hear Now festival. It was Peach Pit, Cage The Elephant, The Backseat Lovers, and a bunch of other SICK indie bands. I remember watching Matt Shultz from Cage The Elephant jump into the crowd, and start climbing a giant tower. I was like, ‘Wow, I MUST be a part of this.’ Sea Hear Now is such a peculiar thing. If you’re ANYWHERE in the county, it’s traveling in the humidity, so you’re just hearing The Foo Fighters two towns over.
How do you balance the mixture that your music is of contemporary storytelling with old-school musicality?
Hmmmmm [Pauses]. In this new music, I’m just extremely conversational. I’m talking to my close friends, who are now my collaborators. You just put it down, and then you make the phonetics line up, because, phonetically, it needs to feel good. The musicality is because we don’t write ANYTHING until the track is ready. We might get a mumble or vowels during melody passes, but I always say that I’m a topliners worst nightmare. If someone’s new, I’m walking in, sitting down with the producer for three hours and not saying a word. I’m like, “If you’re writing a song, just go get coffee or something.” That’s why the musicality comes through, because I’m just jamming with my producers, who are all incredibly talented musicians.
You also have a voice that can do ANYTHING. You have the weight, the earnestness, the falsetto, the character. How do you think you’ve accumulated all those different facets of your voice?
My sister is the best singer I know. She’s incredible, so I grew up with that as the standard. Her and my brother have put so many different kinds of music into my life, so I’ve used my voice in so many different ways. I’d listen to Broadway soundtracks in the car with my mom all the time. Then, they put me onto OG Chance The Rapper and Frank Ocean. In middle school, I had a big metal phase, so I was really learning how to push my voice. And, I’ve always been in cover bands, so I think being able to love all kinds of music has allowed me to hear different inflections and use my voice more as a tool. Any way I want to say something, I have the ability to do it.
When you’re on writing trips with your crew, what is usually the spark that typically leads to starting a song?
It’s a wholeeeee lot of people in the room, a lot of positivity, and a lot of energy. I love the dynamic of that whole squad. We all listen to completely different kinds of music. I’m generally considered the weird one. I’ll show them something, and they’ll be like, “Who the fuck is THAT? We just like 5SOS,” and I’m like, “ … sick.” When I write for either Knox or Will, I bring a lot of my musicality to that, so that’s how I start. Knox is a demon. But, also, Will is one of the most incredible writers. It’s ACTUALLY kind of shocking. He’s so good at knowing what someone’s going to say, and that’s a hard thing to learn as a songwriter. To know someone’s boundaries. How they would phrase something, what they think is corny.
We also present so many different ideas between all the writers in the group. Spenser Jordan, Chase Cimala, even Knox’s drummer Christian Delzoppo on the last trip. It was so fun to get live drums on every single demo. I think minor things inspire more ideas. Usually it’s a songwriter’s job, like Spenser, to be like, “Guys, I have this concept. Let’s write about this theme,” and then we do or don’t. That squad is one of the first experiences where everyone is so dialed in, that the product is always going to be good.
When it comes to Mickey producing, is he meeting you where you’re at now, having had success with certain sounds and songs, or are you reaching to him knowing the specific tools and skillset he has?
With Mickey and I’s dynamic, there are NO conversations like that. We just show up in the room and we’re like, “Yo, what’s going on in your life?” or “What songs are you really fucking with right now?” He’ll usually start with a drumbeat, I’ll lay down synths or a patch from my laptop. Or, I’ll get my guitar. And then the song is done. It’s so fun now, because my last project was me ‘shopping.’ That was me working with a bunch of different producers and writers. This project is all my close friends, all in. When we’ve written for it, there’s no pressure. There are days that are just NOT IT, but it doesn’t matter.
For songs like “Tan Lines” and “wannabe!” that are just about two-and-a-half minutes, how do you know when it’s best to not overextend?
If I have more to say! Whether it’s through the words, or through the music. Did I get the point across? At what point can I make the song stop where someone will want to play it again? When I started, all my songs were four minutes long. I love that, but if you can give someone a world that they love to be in, why not make them start it again? If they want another chorus, they’ll play it again. Also, in songwriting, I’m trying to grow out of this, but I’m a very anti-bridge writer. I don’t really like bridges, and I know that’s blasphemous, but a song only needs one or two things that really grab you. I’ve really given the lyrics a lot of room to breathe on this project, and I built it all for a live show. Especially for songs like “how can you tell” or “menthol,” because of the jam sessions, the songs are going to be longer live. When I’m writing those words, and the way I’m saying things, I’m imagining being in front of people. I’m thinking, “When will I have a moment to turn away to the band?” My last stuff was just me singing, singing, singing [Mimics being out of breath]. That’s not how I want to be as a musician. I want you to WATCH us do our thing, rather than us push the music at you.
Can you talk about how you managed to pull an extremely busy instrumental, a nuanced, earnest vocal performance, and, possibly, your most visually potent lyrics on “how can you tell” into one product?
It’s the one I’m most proud of. I produced most of that track on my latop. I was just searching for an interlude, and I wanted some form of narration, so I searched public domain. I stumbled across this old movie called How Do You Know It’s Love?, and I heard the girl from the movie ask, [Mimics character voice] “How do you tell when you’re REALLY in love?” and I was like, “I’m sampling it, boom!” I was tapping sticks, finding snares online. I sat on it for a week. I knew I wanted it to drone, but all I had was, “I’m seeing brand new colors.” I just need this song to be weird, it’s for me. I brought it to Mickey and Savannah Sanabia and I said, “Let’s take two days to do this, and if we can get even 60% of the energy I want, this song WILL come out.” Everyone was hesitant to have it drone on that one note. The chorus sounds big, but, melodically, it’s not. It’s just a middle point of the song. The verses are more melodically exciting than the chorus. It was one of those times that, as an artist, I knew something was there, but I was told there wasn’t. Not in a bad way, I just knew where we could take it.
On the opposite end of you not feeling like the chorus is as expansive as the verses is “I just get worse.” Two Door Cinema Club was the reference, yes?
Actually, the only reference I had was “Take It Back” by JAWNY. After the song came out, my manager was the one to say it sounded like TDCC. We were on a Knox writing trip this past December in Panama City, FL, and we wrote 11 Knox songs over five days, including his big new song “Go For Broke.” While we were there, we wrote ONE song for me. Just me, Mickey, Spenser, and Chase on our own time in the basement of this Airbnb with a really light setup. That song had to happen. Spenser thought of the chorus, which I thought was so silly at first. Then, I kept saying it.
What are the key aspects of songs that are about you hanging onto someone’s aura?
I think it’s honesty! I genuinely believe this is the most honest project I’ve ever made. I could dive into all the nuances of the title of the project, the cover art… there’s a lot of it, but it’s because all my collaborators are my close friends now. They’ll ask, “Yo, how’s this girl? What’s good?” and it allows me to really put myself out there for judgement and use that as an advantage. If I’m being crazy, someone can tell me. “you woke me up” is an extremely interesting song. It’s about a girl I started seeing when I moved to LA. I had so many moving parts in my life, and time was passing really quick. I didn’t see her for six months, and she called me out on it. I decided we should cut it off, and it fucked both of us up. “does it still mean something?” was about running into an old friend in an airport. To get these songs about yearning, they have to be real. How am I gonna sing “you woke me up” about something that’s fake? I’m going to be screaming into a microphone, and it’s fake?? I think I’m getting back to my early stuff. Songs like “Rug” and “Broken Toe” are so raw. They’re weird. After doing the pop thing for a minute and getting signed, I want to get back to things that are true.
If you were to place this EP into an era of music, what do you think it would be?
The locking in era [Laughs]. I feel like this project is just the start for me. This is the first project I haven’t had so many moving parts in my life that made it hard to fully focus on the music. After Jersey Or Mars, shopping, and moving to LA at 17, this is the first project I, as a musician, got to go in a room and be like, “All of this is real. I play shows. I live here. This is what I’m doing. This is what people expect.” In order to do it, I need to be true to myself. So, it’s the vulnerable era. Even though a lot of my songs are about vulnerability, I’m taking a real leap with my sound. I think it’s very original. If someone hates it, I get it, because it’s for me. This is the TRUE era. This is the AUTHENTIC era.
How do you ensure that each song on this project meets the only if it matters concept?
I’m not consciously trying to fit the theme, I just give a shit about everything I’m singing about. Every song matters to me. All the sessions for this project were in such a short period of time, and it was all just very cohesive. “how can you tell?” was the only song that fits a theme, because it’s an interlude. The rest are all about the same people and the same experiences, made with the people who know me so well helping me to capture it.
only if it matter is out now, follow via @keviankraemer
Interview Noah Wade
