Photo by Joe Difazio

Here at Allston Pudding, there’s not much we can write about Krill that we haven’t already said in a glowing show review or “Records of the Year” list. In just a few short years, the three-piece has climbed from complete anonymity to the top of the Boston music food chain, possibly marking the first time a crustacean has earned such a distinction.

We know how we feel about Krill—bad jokes aside—but we wanted to hear from those who have worked closely with the band throughout their career, as well as from those who were there from day 1. Fans loved singing along to their off-kilter yet catchy choruses, but how do insiders feel now that Krill is calling it quits? With the answers below only one thing is certain: Krill will remain one of Boston’s most revered bands for years to come.

Loren Diblasi
MTV News Editor, Author at Impose and DIY

At this point, I’ve written about Krill too many times to count, but always under the guise of music journalism, in which I’m expected to maintain (at least some sense of) objectivity. I’ve failed at it often, but you know, it’s Krill.

I truly believe that “Turd” could very well be the most perfect song ever written, but what do I know. I’m just a girl who’s cried on the subway listening to Krill. Multiple times. Both with and without sunglasses. But that’s okay.

Because that’s what Krill has taught me.

“I wish someone would swallow me,” Jonah crooned into my earbuds, as I felt the real sting of heartbreak for the very first time late last year. It was the first time I had ever felt that way: dead inside, yet simultaneously more alive than I’d ever been. Finally, it all caught up to me that moment on the train, while strangers stared, although I literally could not give one single fuck. It didn’t matter. I was the turd. I was the peanut, rotting from the inside out. I was free.

Feelings in general are overwhelming (just ask any human) but when Krill sings about them, it’s like being washed with a wave of relief. Listening to Krill is cleansing. Not everyone is going to understand, but that’s what makes it so good. The right people understand. And I only ever want to be with the right people, so thankfully, I’ve met a lot of the right people simply by existing in the world as a fan of Krill.

They said “Krill forever,” and they lied to us. But it’s okay. We’ll keep it going.

Perry Eaton
Allston Pudding Co-founder, Culture Writer at boston.com, former editor of BDCwire:

I’ve never seen a bad Krill show, but if I had to pick my favorite, a couple stick out. The first would be the first time I ever saw them. They opened at Great Scott, I think it might have even been their first show. They were different without trying too hard to be. The energy of their set mixed with their nonchalant stage presence (I think Jonah may have had his sweatshirt hood up all set) showed me that not only was this band already great, but they had no clue how great they were and were probably going to become much greater. Around the time they started playing “Self Hate Will Be The Death of Youth Culture” a solid third of the crowd retreated to the bar, while the rest only drew closer and more captivated. That’s part of what came to define Krill—they were polarizing to a degree, but those who understood it were changed by it. A similar feeling came a couple years later when I saw Ian drumming with the band for the first time. It was clear that while many bands would consider the loss of a member to be a roadblock, Krill embraced the addition and used it as a new dimension. It was the beginning of a new era for the band—one that could be noticed in the live setting and one that will be documented in the latter half of their studio work. Krill can never be repeated, but the musical memories that they’ve given Boston are indelible and will continue to set the bar quite high.

Dan Goldin
Co-founder, Exploding In Sound Records:
Having Krill on EIS was always the utmost pleasure. We’re thrilled the band ever wanted to be involved with us and we couldn’t have been happier to work with such a great band for the few years we did. At a time when it seemed Krill could take their music anywhere, and let’s be honest… they damn well could, the guys decided to let our humble operation get involved. Krill are a band that get progressively better with every song they write (including the still unrecorded new songs) and there’s nothing more you can ask for as a label. Watching them grow from a really awesome and weird indie band into one of the most beloved and still very weird but increasingly amazing indie band has been nothing short of incredible. As “the label,” I’d like to take this opportunity to mention to the band that it’s never too late to change your minds on this whole breaking up mumbo jumbo… the people would understand. In the case that there’s no mind changing at hand (and I don’t imagine there is… I’ve been busy trying… you know, for the people)… we wish them all the greatest of luck in whatever future bands, projects, and anything else they may find themselves getting into.

As for when we knew we wanted to put out their music… I remember Dave was really into them immediately from the moment Alam No Hris came out. He was still living in Boston at the time and I had already moved to New York, so I was most definitely later to the Krill party (millions of Krill fans everywhere just shook their heads in disgust… but it’s okay because I know I love them). I think we had a chance to release the first pressing of “Lucky Leaves” but at the time it was presented to us as “here’s this amazing album (a true classic), but we’re going to be breaking up and won’t be able to support it” so as a young and broke label, we sadly had to pass. Spoiler alert, they didn’t end up breaking up (at that point) and they did lots of supporting of the album after a very awesome self-release. Seeing as how they were continuing to be a band, we jumped at the opportunity to repress “Lucky Leaves” and release “Steve Hears Pile…” and it’s been nothing but wonderful times ever since. Krill, Krill, Krill At Least For A While… but Forever in our hearts.”

Julian Fader
Owner of Gravesend Recordings and drummer for Ava Luna:

Krill was the very first band to record a full album at Gravesend Recordings, which is the recording studio at The Silent Barn that I run with my bandmate Carlos Hernandez. We’d just opened up and I was seriously doubting whether running a real recording studio was a feasible goal. I had been harassing original drummer Luke (aka Lucky) and Jonah for what seemed like years to come record with Carlos and me, since I thought we could help them make a better sounding record than their first album. I believe I ran into Jonah roaming around the Silent Barn days after the space opened and I convinced him on the spot to finally come track with us.

Tracking and mixing of Lucky Leaves was completed in two or three days, which is insane now that I think about it. I remember they were really well prepared. They did two takes of every song before moving on and I think most of the final takes are first takes.

I remember Jonah eating pizza out of our trash can. We didn’t even have a couch back then, he was just on the ground eating trash pizza. It was squalid.

I remember recording “Theme From Krill (Reprise),” with Jonah slowly backing away from the mic as the song ends. I might have actually cried a little bit, it was very intense at the time. I remember driving to some sort of show with Ava Luna the day after the sessions ended and playing “Never a Joke” in the van and I remember Felicia declaring it to be a hit.

I’m not sad Krill is breaking up, to be perfectly honest—I’ve made my peace. Krill has always done Krill and Krill has always meant to break up. They were honest and good, nothing more, nothing less. I’m glad they existed, I’m glad they’re my friends.

Cole Kinsler
Mastermind behind Space Mountain:

I got into Krill pretty quickly after moving to Boston in 2013, and they’ve held a special place in my heart ever since. I distinctly recall my first time seeing them at the Lucky Leaves release gig at Great Scott. They raffled off that USB-in-a-chunk-of-mozzarella version of the album. I think I ran across the street to the ATM so I could buy a shirt. I don’t even remember how I initially heard about them… but they were the first band I saw after moving. Lucky Leaves ended up being a huge album for me during a precarious first year in Boston. I’ve lost count of how many Krill shows I’ve seen now, but there are so many memorable ones.

In five years (if they aren’t on a reunion tour with Ovlov yet), I think we’ll look back on their brief existence with admiration. We’ll remember all the reasons we loved Krill; an expert twitter presence, Ron’s singular shredding, cathartic shows and their clearly unpretentious, unaffected attitude as a band. We’ll treasure the memories of shows, proclaiming “Krill, Krill, Krill, forever,” together with strangers and friends alike. Catch ya later, Krill.

Jason Leach
Founder “of Without Form Podcast” and Krill fan featured on cover of Steve Hears Pile Malden And Bursts Into Tears EP:

I’ve known each member of Krill for many years now and have seen them evolve together and separately, musically and personally. I’m incredibly proud of where they’ve gone (ADFU is a **BEAST**) and where they’re heading. And I feel incredibly fortunate to have witnessed it all from close proximity.

I also feel incredibly fortunate to have let them into my life in such an influential way. Krill doesn’t just hold a special place in my heart. Krill is partly responsible for who I am as a human being. I’ve silently screamed the vocals to “Infinite Power” alone in my room on a bad day. I’ve screamed them loudly in the front row of a show on a good day. I’ve talked to Jonah about “Krill theories” and the lyrics he hates. I’ve picked Aaron’s brain about the bands they’ve played with recently. I’ve tried—and failed—to calm Ian’s nerves before a set. Heck, I’ve even made Luke cry (unrelated to his membership in the band).

The entity known as Krill is on its way out, and I’m beat up by that. I, like many Krill fans, feel my relationship with the band changing. But I know it will be okay. The people are not going away. The recordings are not going away. And what the music has meant to me is not going away. I wish the best to my dear friends Aaron, Ian, Jonah, and even Luke (who left for some mysterious reason). I will DEFINITELY be at every reunion show in 10-20 years, probably selling merch for the band so I can get in for free.

Catch Krill in their final Boston performances this Thursday at 6:30PM and 10PM, Great Scott.

Are any of these Krill photos yours? Leave a note in the comments and we’ll be happy to credit you