I've been listening to Cub Sport since I was in high school. I remember early morning drives with my older sister, the two of us sharing a sense of calm as the sun rose, with "Come On Mess Me Up" playing softly in the background. There was something about that song—the way it captured a bittersweet feeling—that seemed to echo the misty sugar cane fields of Louisiana and the quiet, open highway stretching out ahead of us. It became a kind of anthem for those moments, a song that made me feel both grounded and free—ready to conquer the day.
When I finally got the chance to see them live, years later and with my older sister, it felt like everything had come full circle. Standing in the crowd, I could feel that same sense of calm, the same bittersweet beauty in the air. The music wrapped around us, and for a moment, I was back in the car with her, the world waking up around us.
One of my friends from LSU introduced me to Kainalu during a late-night study session, playing "Queen of Wands" while we were buried in code. From the first few notes, I was hooked. I’d never heard a sound quite like his—psychedelic and dreamy, yet with this whimsical, almost otherworldly edge. The closest comparison would be Tame Impala, but Kainalu’s music felt even more playful and unpredictable.
In 2023, I had the chance to see him live—twice—and he did not disappoint. His performances had a such unique energy. Kainalu is an unpredictable performer in the best way possible—one minute he’s shredding an epic guitar solo, the next he’s belting out spontaneous ad-libs that send the crowd wild. It felt like every moment brought something new, something unexpected, and the audience fed off that energy. The atmosphere was electric like we were all part of this wild, colorful ride together.
Offstage, he’s just as cool. I got to chat with him about his discography and inspirations after the show—he’s genuine and humble (and even signed my phone case). The experience made me appreciate his music and artistry even more.