Artist Spotlights: KERA Subverts the Norms of Folk Music
Los Angeles-based music artist KERA doesn’t fit into a box — or even a binary. Jazz-inspired punk? Sure. Punk-inspired jazz? Why not! KERA can do it all.
Artist Spotlights introduces you to small artists that may not be on your radar yet, but should be. With recently cancelled tours and income loss for small artists, there’s no time like the present to find new talent to support.
Written by Grace Robertson
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Before the coronavirus pandemic shut down the live music scene, genderqueer folk artist Kera Armendariz (who uses they/them pronouns and is known and stylized as KERA) made a name for themself as one of the best live acts in Los Angeles, despite having less than 30,000 monthly listeners on Spotify. Armendariz's energy radiates a uniquely electric quality — just take a look at this performance where their music quite literally moves the artist across the stage while they thrash around with their guitar and contort their features to reflect the intensity of the show. It’s all part of the way Armendariz subverts the norms of folk with their addition of punk, jazz, and roots stylings.
They’re setting new precedents for how to explore sound and identity, making traditional genres more accessible to new artists who don’t fit into neat categories. Armendariz once described their sound as “bipolar folk,” but their music doesn’t fit into a binary; like the artist themself, KERA explores all the complexities of identity and sound.
Armendariz started making music with a band called Kera & the Lesbians, which they spearheaded. (The name came from Luke Davidson, who thought of it as an inside joke that simply stuck — the band's members, aside from Armendariz, were all male.) The band’s only full-length, self-titled album jumps from soulful smoky trumpets and swingy jazz to an Arctic Monkeys-esque post-punk that makes one want to lace up some Doc Martens and stomp-dance on a table.
In “Nailbiter,” a song that wouldn’t sound out of place at a smoky '40s jazz lounge, Armendariz calms themself as they teeter on the edge of a panic attack: “One deep breath, love, you’ll be fine,” they sing in a low, tense alto over the borderline-abrasive notes of a blaring trumpet and rattling tambourine. “November” starts as a slow Americana honky-tonk before a horn bursts in and the chorus devolves into lively “la la"s. The album ends with the track “Walls of Giza,” which starts with a happy-go-lucky folksy tune before shifting into a series of slightly creepy, abstract soundbites and a circus lullaby. Throughout it all, the only consistency on the record is Armendariz's unflinching optimism and their irresistible energy. The artist jumps between octaves and styles with a lighthearted, almost satiric approach as dynamic as their stage presence. Bursting with bold melodies and moody slide guitars, this is an album that wasn't meant just to be heard, but performed — with Armendariz in the spotlight.
Armendariz's music not only explores unique soundbites, it reflects their relationship with their identity as a queer artist as well the hardships that come with that acceptance. In an interview with the Love Story, Armendariz revealed that growing up with conservative parents in a household where their identity was never accepted created emotional turmoil that they learned to heal through music. “I do still harbor a lot of resentment for my past … but it is really nice when you get those songs out that just feel really true and genuine,” they said.
“Snakes,” a punk-inspired song released while Armendariz was still part of Kera & the Lesbians, starts slow before building into an explosion of sound, complete with a shaking tambourine and a cathartic slide guitar as Kera proclaims, “Goodbye for now, see I said it / By tomorrow you won’t regret it.”
The accompanying music video highlights the artist’s complicated relationship between their religion and their identity. In the opening scene, Armendariz is crowned with a kitchen strainer before undergoing some sort of archaic electrical shock therapy, while the next shows the singer bearing a crown of thorns. They face their religious past by superimposing themselves in stages of Christ-like suffering, everything from begging for forgiveness in a cathedral to nearly being killed by a homicidal priest — all in less than four minutes.
Armendariz's 2018 solo release, a three-song EP titled Fall.Apart., follows the artist on their journey to healing after a tumultuous breakup. While this collection of songs is more intimate than the likes of their earlier music (hence the new moniker), Armendariz continues to fuse the righteous anger of modern post-punk music and Amy Winehouse-esque neo-soul with unyielding precision. The three-track trilogy is an exploration of the stages of a relationship.
Album opener “I’m Late” features members of the indie folk band The Wild Reeds, harmonizing over a dreamy tropical rhythm and Armendariz’s hazy, layered vocals. With brief interjections of lighthearted trumpets and shakers, the track evokes classic indie folk with a Latin twist. “Olive,” the second track on the single, is a snapshot of musical evolution in 60 seconds. A simple guitar riff hangs in listeners' ears before Armendariz's voice wavers atop an unusual combination: a dark, dramatic electric guitar and Conga drums. The artist grudgingly faces their relationship's end on closing track, “When the Levy Breaks.” Armendariz's voice flutters like an anxious heart during the chorus: “Say it slowly please / I didn’t see / I still breathe.” As their voice wobbles with each word, a harsh conglomeration of wind instruments, a rapid drumbeat, and a wailing guitar collide and capture Armendariz's feelings of inner turmoil before fading into quiet acceptance.
Indie folk blends the acoustic guitars of traditional folk with the more contemporary likes of layered harmonies, accordions, banjos, and storytelling elements. Although the world of indie folk is vast, Armendariz distinguishes themself from the mold. From the yowls of post-punk to a smoky blues croon, Armendariz showcases their seamless, chameleon voice alongside abstract musical compositions with bravado, paving the way for a new sound of an aged genre.
As a band member or a solo artist, Armendariz’s music reflects who they are: someone fearlessly crossing boundaries on a journey to self-realization. As the singer has come to accept their identity as a genderqueer musician, they don’t need the backup of an entire band to make music — just themself and who they've always been.
Youtube: https://youtu.be/SUjXWNhMu0E
Listen to KERA on Spotify. You can follow them on Instagram @keraandthelesbians and Twitter @thelesbians