They are innocent, if ignorant tweets. I love krewella like her music is amazing and her vocals are just perf. Legions of Krewella fans jump in defense on Twitter. Krewella is not a her, it is a them, they correct.
Krewella is a bandyes, a bandof contradictions, surprises and unexpected influences. Krewella does not quite fit in with the EDM herd, and therefore resonates deeply with anyone who does not quite fit in. To wit: It is one of the biggest rising names in dance music, but its beat-maker proclaims, People standing behind tables putting their hands in the air is remedial. The group name-drops Fall Out Boy, Blink 182, the Faint and Timbaland as inspirations. It is ostensibly an electronic act, though one formed by singer-songwriters and aguitar shredder who put live performance above all else, who cherish being flesh to flesh with their flock. Krewella is difficult to pigeonhole, and thus speaks to all those who view themselves as difficult to pigeonhole. Which is all of us. To understand Krewella, you have to go back to the beginning.
In 2010, a trio of young musicians from suburban Northbrook rented a loft in the heart of the neighborhood. The oldest, Kris Rain Man Trindl, 22 at the time, a metalhead who first picked up a guitar at age 11, tried to look his most presentable when meeting with the apartment agent. He wore a peacoat. Kris and his two bandmates, sisters Yasmine and Jahan Yousaf, then 18 and 20, respectively, moved into the 2,500-square-foot space with cardboard boxes and empty beer cases as furniture. They slept on mattresses on the floor. Kris ran his computer through a flat-screen television. He turned his closet into a vocal booth, drilling holes in the walls to thread cables, insulating the interior with comforters and foam padding. Inside that closet, Jahan and Yasmine belted the vocals to Alive, as Kris crafted the amphetamine-pumping beats and longing piano arpeggios of the hopeful dance anthem on the hardwood in his bedroom.
In July of 2011, Krewella began performing live in the Windy City underground. They played raves in rusted warehouses near Midway Airport. They rocked a multi-level Halloween party in a dilapidated hotel. Sometimes, thered be a mere 20 kids dancing on tile floors. Sometimes, the three would earn a measly $50. Sometimes, Kris worried for his younger bandmates safety at unlicensed gigs in gritty venues. Yasmine and Jahan insisted on taking any and every chance to bring Krewella to the people. Were gonna play where we can play.
Speaking of rockstars, two of the Yousafs childhood heroes, Fall Out Boys Patrick Stump and Blink 182s Travis Barker, belt hooks and pummel drums on Dancing with the Devil. Jahan gushes, I didnt think we were capable of getting those people on the record. Yasmine was in equal disbelief: Im the biggest Fall Out Boy fan.
