Haunted Mouths | Kellin Quinn

With his new project Haunted Mouths and album A Collection of Greetings, Kellin Quinn is uncovering new facets about himself as an artist and songwriter.

Kellin Quinn has long been known as the unmistakable voice behind Sleeping with Sirens. A fixture in the emo scene for over 16 years, it’s almost impossible to separate Quinn from his work under Sleeping with Sirens. But with his new project Haunted Mouths, he’s stepping into new territory — letting go of expectations, embracing artistic freedom, and exploring a soundscape that feels both deeply personal and unapologetically experimental. A body of work that, at this very moment, is a perfect snapshot of the ever-changing man, artist, and songwriter he is today.

His new album, A Collection of Greetings, which is out today, is an evocative tribute to the intricate layers of love, life, and all of the bits in between. Crafted in collaboration with Aaron Marsh of Copeland, the album offers a cohesive journey where every track seamlessly flows into the next, showcasing Quinn’s signature voice set against immersive, ethereal soundscapes. It’s apt the album is out on Valentine’s Day since Quinn states the record is about his own idea of love—how it starts, how it is in the middle, and how it is when you keep going.

When speaking with Quinn, it’s clear just how much he’s given himself to this project. There is something uniquely empowering about choosing to step outside the box that others have placed you in and exploring a new facet of yourself. For Quinn, this meant taking what he has learned over 16 years and trying something else just to see what comes of it. The result is a rich and atmospheric body of work that is equal parts haunting and raw. But at its core, A Collection of Greetings is a reflection of both his relationship with his partner and his own journey as an artist who is embracing growth and putting himself in the way of creative freedom. This creative journey is buoyed by a cinematic exploration of the self that defies genre, inviting listeners into a world of fuzzy guitars, vulnerability, and even a surprise saxophone. As Quinn continues to evolve as an artist, one thing is certain: the journey is just beginning.

1883’s Editor Kelsey Barnes sits down with Kellin Quinn to discuss his foray into a solo project, the creation of the record, pushing his own boundaries and finding freedom in pursuing new work, and more.

The album’s title, A Collection of Greetings, alludes to welcoming someone to something new. Does this project feel like a reintroduction of sorts?

Haunted Mouths is actually alluding to a cemetery that my friends and I used to frequent in high school. It’s called Mouth Cemetery. The town I grew up in—and went to high school in—had nothing to do, so we’d meet at this bench in the middle of town. We would either hang out on top of this elementary school and smoke cigarettes, or we’d go to the cemetery, walk around, and see if we could get haunted.

So, I thought that was a clever name for a project. And then A Collection of Greetings is just what the album is about. It’s really about my idea of love—how it starts, how it is in the middle, and how it is when you keep going. I think it’s this never-ending arc of happiness. It has its lows, its middle points, and things you have to fight through. I think that’s an interesting topic. It’s a love letter to my significant other. 

Touching on your childhood and going back to that, did you spend a lot of time revisiting childhood memories when crafting this album? Maybe around the idea of love and what love means when you’re a child?

I think we have this notion of what love should be based on what we read or watch. But as I’ve grown—and being in a long-term relationship—I’ve seen different parts of it. There’s that initial high that we’re always chasing, those feelings when you first fall in love—the tingling sensations, the adrenaline. But then, I think we forget that it takes work. In the middle of any relationship, there are ups and downs. Trying to find the beauty in all of that is an interesting idea of love. There’s beauty in the hardships because you find out who you are through them. There’s beauty in discovering who you are as you grow and age—and in deciding what you like about each other, you know?

Absolutely, and there are so many different themes of love on this record. This was created over a two-week period with producer Aaron Marsh. I wanted to ask—what was it about his production style that made you want him to be your creative partner in this endeavour?

I’ve known Aaron for as long as I can remember listening to cool music. I kind of started within the Warped Tour punk scene, and a buddy of mine—actually, a friend of my mom’s—came into town for her wedding when she got remarried. He brought this mixed CD, and we were driving around listening to it. Copeland came on, and it was the first time I was introduced to the band. I think it was the song “Testing the Strong Ones”, and it just sounded so beautiful but also kind of dark. It definitely had dark subject matter because I think that album, Beneath the Medicine Tree, was about Aaron’s relationship with someone who was in the hospital and very sick. It felt more emo than the emo I was listening to at the time.

I’ve always followed Aaron’s career in Copeland, and I just love everything they put out. I think he makes things that are very beautiful, but he’ll say things that could come across as really cheesy if they’re not in the right musical context. That’s why I gravitated toward working with him on this album. When you step outside the band you’ve been in for so long, people can put you in a very cheesy-sounding pop box. I didn’t want that to happen. I wanted it to still sound dark and moody, and I think we accomplished that.

The fact that you’ve been in a band and this is kind of new territory for you—was that ever daunting to explore? Was this something you had to come to terms with yourself?

It was the easiest album to make, to be honest. There’s just something freeing about not being confined to the box you’re in. I kind of compare it to making my initial projects before Sleeping with Sirens—just recording in my friend’s bedrooms. It was very fun, and there were no rules. I brought in a bunch of random and obscure lyrics, and we built the songs around those. Midway through, I was like, “Oh, this feels like a love record.”

I know you’ve got a copy of The Artist’s Way, which I think helped steer you in a different direction with songwriting. When it comes to journaling, songwriting, and putting songs together, is that a therapeutic process for you?

Yeah, I think it depends on the project you’re working on. I’ve done a lot of features over the years—especially during COVID, because I kind of had to in order to make a living at that time. And I found myself wondering, Why is it so much easier for me to jump into someone else’s song that’s 65 to 75% done and add my part with ease? I feel like when I do features, I get to step into those projects and just kind of join the band. But with Sleeping with Sirens, there are these constraints automatically put on you before you even start, which makes it very challenging when creating an album. With this project, having a producer who truly understood what I wanted to do sonically made it a lot easier. But beyond that, I had the freedom to approach it the same way I do with my features—like I was stepping into a band that wasn’t mine. That made it so fun.

It must have been quite freeing to come to something that’s a completely blank slate—where you don’t have to worry about how Sleeping with Sirens fans will perceive it. I don’t want to call it a passion project, but it does kind of seem like one.

Yeah, the only negative thing anyone could say—or will say—is, “This doesn’t sound like Sleeping with Sirens.”

That’s the point.

Yeah, that’s the point! [Laughs] That’s the only real criticism someone could have. If people expect my vocal acrobatics, the high singing, or the things I usually do in Sleeping with Sirens, this isn’t that kind of album. To me, it’s a record filled with the kind of music I listen to daily. I listen to bands like Horse Jumper of Love, Chastity Belt, DIIV, and others all the time. It’s the kind of music I can put on in the background when I’m cooking dinner, having dinner, or entertaining people. It’s something you can throw on, enjoy, and let it introduce a topic of conversation—without being so in-your-face that it takes up all the space. That’s what I wanted to create.

We kind of touched on this before the call, but I was listening to it with my AirPods while walking, and it felt very cinematic—like I was in my own world. 

Yeah, yeah. That’s really cool. When I was getting mixes back from Aaron, it was summertime, and we were doing a lot of stuff outside—in our garden, in front of the house. Every time we got a new song, my wife and I would get so excited, like, “Ooh, we get to listen to something new!” I feel like this album turned into something that really has to be listened to as a whole. A lot of times when I make records, there’s this structured rollout—working with my management team and the label, choosing singles, making music videos. But this isn’t that kind of project. I felt like we should put out one song to get people interested and then just drop the whole thing—so you can experience it in full. That’s the best way to digest it.

I was going to ask about that—since usually, there are three or four singles leading up to an album. Is it nice to just drop it all at once, aside from the first single?

I love it so much. I’ve noticed that a lot of artists now just release singles. I’ll find a cool project on Instagram, check it out, and realize they only have singles. But I think it takes a lot of work to put together an album—especially one that can be listened to front to back as a complete experience. This project feels like something really specific. It would be hard to replicate because it says something so clearly. I don’t know how you’d say it again without approaching it as something completely new. It kind of became this one-off thing that turned into a really beautiful, cinematic experience—like you mentioned earlier. I’ll definitely work with Aaron on more projects, but I don’t know how you’d make Haunted Mouths into a Volume 2. I guess it could be possible, though.

You never know. Touching on specific songs, I want to talk about “Casting Over Them.” I gravitated toward that song instantly—I love the lyrics: “We’ll keep it together. You can be my tether.” And also, “People talk enough for the both of us.” I wanted to ask about writing and recording that song in particular and the inspiration behind it.

That was the first song we wrote, and I love that it has really fuzzy guitars. Aaron and I actually went back and forth on that a lot—he wanted to change it because he liked the juxtaposition of the fuzzy guitars next to that almost Elliott Smith section that comes later in the song. And I was like, “Dude, that’s why I love it!” It’s jarring.

I love that juxtaposition—it’s nice to listen to.

Yeah, I love how jarring it is. It reminds me of this band I listen to all the time, Horse Jumper of Love. They do that so well—really fuzzy guitars, but then sections that are so beautiful. It creates a very dynamic sound. As for the lyrics, that song came together pretty easily. I had written a bunch of interesting and weird subject matter, and we just grouped it all together. That was the first thing I did. The only bummer was that after that song was done—because it has so many words—I was like, “Shit, now I have to keep that level up for the rest of the record.” I love that song a lot. It was definitely one of the contenders for a single, but I didn’t want to put it out first. I didn’t want people to hear it and think, “Oh, the whole album is going to sound like this—fuzzy guitars and darkness.” A lot of the record doesn’t sound like that. But that one is definitely one of my favourites.

Then “Becoming Nameless”—the saxophone in that stopped me in my tracks. The production behind that song, and specifically using the sax—people aren’t expecting to hear that on this record. 

So one night, we went to a winery—it was a rare night off. I think the first session was six days, and we got five songs done. Then we did another seven days and got six more songs. I can’t remember the exact total, but it was a lot of work in between. One of those nights off, we went to this winery to watch a jazz band that was covering a bunch of songs. They had this saxophone player, and I think Aaron brought me there specifically to hear this dude play—because the next day, he was like, “What do you think about having saxophone? My buddy can do it.” And I was like, “Yes, 100%.” I love how it just comes in so unexpectedly. You’re not anticipating it, and then suddenly, it shifts the song into a whole different place.

I love that part. It genuinely stopped me in my tracks. I just wasn’t expecting a saxophone on something like this. That must be really freeing for you. Let’s add a saxophone, why not.

Oh yeah—just put a saxophone on it! With this project, if we do play shows—which I really want to—it’s going to be a whole different kind of vibe. The venue has to be right. We’ve played some on tour that have outdoor seating areas, or there’s one in California with a beautiful outdoor stage. Even an indoor venue that looks like an old church with stained glass—that kind of setting would be perfect.

And then, putting together the live music would be so fun within the boundaries of what we can afford to do. I’d love to have actual strings. I’d love to bring our homie who played saxophone to perform it live. I want weird synths on stage and to create this immersive experience where the audience isn’t just listening—they’re engulfed in it. I want them to have that feeling you described—where you stop in your tracks and just feel the music.

Did the thought of playing these songs live influence the production behind some of the songs?

I guess so. I would assume it would feel kind of like Aaron’s studio, where there’s just a bunch of stuff everywhere. He would start with a bassline or a guitar riff, and then he’d loop it, run over to his piano or synthesizers, and start layering things. It was really awesome to watch. I feel like that kind of process would be really cool to bring to a live performance—where everyone plays different instruments throughout the set. I’d love to jump on a drum machine, switch to a guitar, or even play bass. I think having everything be interchangeable would make for a really unique experience.

There’s a cinematic aspect to this project—visuals seem to be very important to you, especially with this project. Are visuals something you think about while writing, or do you approach them after?

Oh, I think if you write a good song, you naturally start thinking about a visual for it. Like with “Searching for a Fire”, as soon as I heard it, I immediately thought it would make a great video—something with a Post Malone vibe. I pictured this almost Spaghetti Western setting, like those old-school films where they used painted backdrops. I imagined a fake little fire in the middle, me sitting there in a dusted blue suit, playing an old acoustic guitar. And maybe the set changes behind me—the sunset shifts, the scenery transforms. When I feel like a song is really strong, visuals just start coming to me. I guess they do kind of go hand in hand.

If there was a film counterpart that would exist in this world, what would it be?

Ooh, that’s a great question… What’s that movie with Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet that came out?

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?

Yeah! That’s kind of how I see it. It’s almost like these two lovers are so in love, then they hate each other, and they want to erase each other. And then it’s like, “oh shit, I don’t want to erase you—I want to figure out how we can be together again.” I feel like that movie really encompasses the sound and the idea of this music well.

It also explores different aspects to love which this record does, too. What was the most rewarding aspect of writing and recording this album? I’m assuming it’s the freedom of coming into it as a blank slate, but if anything else comes to mind…

I think the most rewarding thing was just the confidence I gained from working with Aaron. Going in, I had no idea what to expect. And then having him say, This is what I hear your voice doing, and just trusting him—it was a really cool experience. That was actually a conversation I had with my wife. I told her, I think I have an idea of what my project should sound like, but Aaron is taking it in a different direction. And she was just like, “Let him do what he wants to do.”

I think as artists, sometimes we need to let go of our expectations of how we hear ourselves and actually allow a producer to produce. So often, especially with Sleeping with Sirens, I go into the studio wanting to produce myself. But this time, I let Aaron have his vision. Also, gaining confidence in my songwriting was huge. Having Aaron tell me, Dude, these lyrics are awesome, or That’s a really good chorus idea, was really encouraging. It gave me a new perspective on my own songwriting moving forward.

The song “Meanwhile” has the lyrics “let’s make peace with our ghosts right now.” I know this might not be your exact intent with the song, but I love the idea of making peace with something—letting go of expectations, like letting go of fan pressure, or making peace with having something sound like Sleeping with Sirens. I wanted to ask: did it feel like you were making peace with the pressure, allowing yourself to explore this different facet of yourself as an artist with this album?

I think so, yeah. Making peace with just the expectations that are put on you. Making peace with the bad decisions maybe you’ve made in the past with your music and forgiving yourself for any bad musical tastes. And just letting yourself be free—that’s how music should be. You should be free to make the music you want, without any expectations. I think this experience has been a gift for me in that way. Maybe, hopefully, with the new Sleeping with Sirens music we’re making, I can make peace by giving myself permission to be freer with that as well.

It feels like there’s a new chapter for you as an artist and songwriter, which must feel very exciting for you.

It is, yeah. It’s very exciting. I mean, I’ve been doing my band for so long, and it’s been this identity for me. It’s like this Kellin Quinn costume that’s evolved over time. And I want to be the version of myself now, where I can look back at photos and maybe let go of the very far-over side part, the toms, and the skinny jeans and all that stuff.

You are allowed to grow and develop as a human.

Exactly! [Laughs] 

Just a fun question to end on—if you could manifest something for yourself in 2025, what would it be?

I want to get more confident with my own production skills and learn how to be better at running Logic and making music. I’d like to make a song a day, if I can, and not be so critical of the music, but just put it in a bank somewhere. Whether I use it or not, just have the knowledge to run the program, record something, and then put it away, come back to it, and revisit it. I think The Artist’s Way taught me that it’s important to always massage that muscle. So, yeah, just putting something in there every single day would be awesome for me.

Yeah, a lot of the time, I hear artists say they’ll make something and then put it away for a few years. When they revisit it, they kind of Frankenstein it, taking parts of it away or changing it. That could be something you eventually do with your own work, too, which is nice.

I don’t know the exact quote, but John Mayer said something like, “I think it’s unfair of me to only like the songs I initially gravitate toward.” I think he’s in a place of just creating something, just to create it, because who’s to say it’s not something great that you go back to two years later? I do that all the time with old demos. My band likes to call it “Kellin Quinn Music Hour,” and when I used to drink more, one of my bad habits was playing old demos of stuff I made before the band. I’d corner people and make them listen to it. I don’t do that anymore, but I used to. I love that. I’ll go back to some of those songs and be like, “Holy shit, this is actually good.” There’s this… Innocence to the music I used to make, and this daringness to just throw a beatbox part on this, or a weird rap part, and throw it together into a song. I’m like, “Man, I used to be so daring and not care.” I think I’m always coming back to that, wanting to get there again.

Yeah, well, I think with things like the saxophone… I feel like you’re leaning into that again. 

I think so too, Kelsey. Thank you so much.

A Collection of Greetings is out now.

Interview Kelsey Barnes
Photography Pooneh Ghana