Some bands grow into their sound gradually, in public, one awkward tour at a time. Krooked Kings seem to have done most of that work quietly — and arrived in Columbus on Saturday night already settled into who they are.

Opener Annika Wells set the room's temperature early. Backed by a full band under shifting greens and blues, she performed with a physicality that made the A&R's stage feel small in the best way — microphone pulled close, voice fully committed, her band moving with her. The crowd that had wandered in loosely by showtime was standing shoulder to shoulder before she finished.

By the time Krooked Kings took the stage, the room had found its shape. Red lights bled across the A&R's exposed brick walls, the city still visible through the venue's garage-door windows, and the five-piece from Salt Lake City walked out like they'd been here before — unhurried, certain. Frontman Oli Martin opened close to the front row, woven guitar strap across a white tee, and the faces nearest the stage were already mouthing the words before he reached the first chorus.

Their sound pulls from the biting guitar arrangements of The Strokes, the introspective depth of Bon Iver, and the easygoing charm of Peach Pit First Avenue — but the live set carries something those reference points don't fully predict: a directness that feels earned rather than performed. The band leaned deep into In Another Life, the record they dropped just two weeks ago, and the songs held their weight in a live room the way only honest writing does.

Drummer Quinn Casper, green-capped and lit amber at the back of the stage, sang along through his kit — someone invested in the material, not just anchoring it. Along the side rail, the crowd leaned forward with the focused stillness of people actively listening, drinks forgotten on the ledge. Krooked Kings write about the twenty-something experience in America — the restlessness, the dreams, the disillusionments of a generation navigating modern life First Avenue — and Saturday's room proved that audience is real, present, and paying attention.

The set's emotional peak arrived without announcement: Martin raising a fist into the green-hazed rafters, the band locked in behind him, the room answering back. It was the kind of moment a venue like A&R was built for — close enough that you feel it in your chest, small enough that it actually means something.

Krooked Kings are a band that has done the work. Columbus got to see the result.

Annika Wells — Live at A&R Music Bar | Columbus, Ohio | April 12, 2026