Somewhere Green With Abby Kenna
- Josh Kitchen
- Mar 26
- 7 min read
By: Josh Kitchen / March 27, 2025
Spit! is Abby Kenna’s debut EP, and it is raw and brash - filled with 90s and early aughts inspired hooks, lyrics that will make you ask yourself, "did she just sing that?," and enough assuredness to assume she's been making music for a decade instead of just a couple years. Spit! has just four songs, but in that short set of time, Kenna gets to queerness, self-sabotage, intimacy, and the messiness of figuring things out in real time.
Originally from New Jersey and now based in LA, Kenna recently joined the roster at Paladin Artists after her single "Be Cool" blew up organically on TikTok. On Paladin, Kenna joins a list of legends like Smokey Robinson, Brian Wilson, and Pussy Riot—and she’ll be hitting the road this spring with Public Works on an East Coast tour starting April 2 in Philly.
I caught up with Kenna a few weeks after her release show at LA's Genghis Cohen and we we talked about how the EP came together, why she’s leaning into blunt honesty in her writing, being produced by Charlie Hickey, Severance, and how interviewing artists for her podcast Chef’s Choice has shaped her perspective on navigating the music industry.
Your debut EP, Spit!, came out last month and you celebrated it with a show at Genghis Cohen. How was it?
It happened at a very odd time—like six weeks before the show, all the fires happened. It was a strange social media landscape to navigate. I kept thinking, "What’s the point of me promoting this EP, this ridiculous EP, and this show?" There were so many more important things happening that needed space and attention. But I think we all eventually realized that we needed community and each other, and I felt very supported.
We're both based in Los Angeles. I think people realized we all needed that community and collective love. Your music is so great because you tap into a lot of feelings people are having. You're an unabashedly queer artist—how does queerness affect your music and your approach to songwriting, especially on tracks like “Be Cool” and “The Closer?"
It’s funny, because I grew up always knowing something was a little different about me, but I didn’t put a name to it until I was in college. I didn’t come out as gay until a couple of years ago. Even then, I didn’t formally come out—I just started dating a girl, and that was that. These songs were the first time I let myself communicate about it, even within my own head. They helped me navigate some of the issues and complications that come up being queer in this day and age.
With “Soft,” that was the first song where I really leaned into a queer experience and talked about it plainly. No metaphors, just direct. That moment helped me realize it didn’t have to be sugar-coated or universally palatable. That realization became the catalyst for the rest of the EP to be provocative and blunt. If I’m going to be honest with myself, I should be honest in my art too.
Some of the lyrics on this EP are very intimate and sexual—especially in “The Closer” and “Be Cool.” Talk to me about calling the EP Spit!
In “The Closer,” I just wanted to make it as ridiculous as possible. The “Be Cool” lyric—I really meant that with vulnerability. The line “I’ve been thinking of my exes while I masturbate”—it’s a metaphor for the thing I was going for, but I framed it in a provocative way. Once I realized I could do that, I thought, "Okay, let’s make ‘The Closer’ fucking stupid." The “spit in my mouth” lyric was a fun way to say, “I don’t need you to treat me like shit. I get what I mean to you—it’s fine. You don’t need to have your foot in my face to make me realize that.”
It became kind of addicting once I realized I could say anything. That’s just how I am—I say off-kilter things, I’m sarcastic, and I always joke that my mom has the worst trucker mouth ever. I was never born to be polite. Once I included those provocative lyrics in “Soft” and saw how people responded, I decided to push it further. The “spit in my mouth” line ended up capturing that energy. Later, I realized I was also spitting out all of these truths I’d kept inside—so that’s where the EP title came from. But collectively, it was just me having a fun time.
For those who don't know, when you're not making music, you host a podcast for Ones to Watch called, Chef's Choice. You've interviewed some amazing artists like Blu DeTiger, Dasha, and Maude Latour. How has interviewing artists informed your own music?
It’s been a really great test case for a lot of questions I have. Like, I’m really interested in session work right now—so I’ve been asking all the podcast guests about it. Or if I’m thinking about label shopping, I’ll ask them about their experience. I really get to take advantage of their top-tier advice.
Artistry-wise, I’ve talked to artists across a wide spectrum—some with a couple hundred monthly listeners, others who blew up on TikTok. The best conversations are always with people who believe in their sound before they care what anyone else thinks. That’s easier said than done, but there’s this kind of removed belief, almost a fantasy, that they never lose. I can feel that when I talk to them, and I can hear it in their music. No matter what anyone says, they’re still gonna back themselves. And this is a very unforgiving career, so I’m trying to hold onto that same belief in what I have, no matter what someone is offering me or saying about me.
Your next single “Things Are Looking Up” comes out March 28. I’ve heard it—it’s really fucking good. Someone might hear that title and think, “Really?” But then you hear the chorus: “If things are looking up, I’ll be face down in the wreckage.”
The first verse just spilled out of me during a drive home. I didn’t really know what it meant at first. I played it for my roommate, and he was like, “How do you not know what this means? You constantly knock yourself down a few pegs when things start going well. You can’t just be satisfied.” And I thought, "Damn, yeah. That is my cycle." I figure a bunch out and then sabotage something. The song spiraled from there. We explored different scenarios where I mess things up. The second verse is about romantic relationships—emptiness, lack of connection. The chorus is more about life direction and purpose. It was written a year and a half ago, but it feels very topical now when it really seems like things aren’t looking up.
Your music feels very ’90s and early 2000s—grungy, slacker, poppy. In my notes I wrote down “Shrek Soundtrack" if that makes any sense.
That is perfect. Shrek soundtrack—I can’t top that. Growing up, I was into piano pop legends like Regina Spektor, Fiona Apple, Sara Bareilles, and especially Ben Folds. I was obsessed with Ben Folds—he did the Over the Hedge soundtrack, which felt very on-brand for me. I even met him at a concert, and he told me not to go to Berkley... and then I went anyway.
As I got older, I got more into true ’90s alternative and grunge—artists like PJ Harvey. There’s a weird intersection between ridiculous early 2000s pop and those more intellectual elements. Even “Severance,” which is the darkest and most emotionally vulnerable song I’ve written, still has that early 2000s flavor. I can’t escape the boy band pop I grew up with, no matter what I do.
Severance, like the show?
It’s half inspired by the show, but mostly it’s autobiographical. I’ve always had a high tolerance for stress—I love being busy—but it’s definitely a coping mechanism for anxiety. Last year, it started physically manifesting in scary ways: sleepwalking, migraines, visits to the neurologist. I was even recommended an MRI. It became clear it was from stress, but my brain was channeling it elsewhere.
I started watching season one of Severance during this time—horrible idea. I saw the scene where they drill into his head and thought, “That’s what they’re going to have to do to me.” I had this intrusive thought: if I wanted to fix everything and get rid of my anxiety, I’d have to get rid of me. Like, my personality is tied to my stress and work ethic. So the song was born from that breakdown—half Severance, half real life.
What do you think your innie is up to right now?
Gosh, I don’t even know. I was talking about this with someone recently, and we realized there’s probably no “innie” for us because we’re constantly thinking about work. My innie doesn’t exist—my brain won’t allow it. But if she did, she’d be somewhere green, just rolling in the grass.
“Soft” organically blew up.
It’s been wild. I’ve yet to receive editorial support from Spotify or Apple Music—I still don’t really know how to get into that game—but I started posting about it on TikTok. To be fair, it’s kind of a shock-factor story that grabs attention, but more importantly, it reached a community that didn’t really have an outlet to talk about internalized homophobia or religious trauma. I’m glad it was the first one to take off—it helps contextualize how people hear the rest of my music.
You're working with one of my favorite LA musicians right now - Charlie Hickey. Tell me about how you got him to produce you?
We got connected through my friend Conway, who manages him. I wanted to have Charlie on my podcast, and Conway was like, “Cool, Charlie wants to produce for you.” Totally unexpected. Charlie’s awesome. I brought him this really different song—it was inspired by an Instagram story my friend posted about a litter of German Shepherd puppies that were dumped on the side of the road. I wrote a whole song about it and brought it to Charlie, and he liked it! We’ve been working on it together since. He’s just such a genuine songwriter. He’s not into the "let’s just crank it out" session culture. He really cares about doing what’s best for the song.
Final question: Do you believe in ghosts?
I think I do. I keep trying not to, but they keep proving me wrong. I haven’t seen one, but I believe in signs from the universe. Whenever I’m trying to figure something out, I always see a hummingbird. I’d never seen one in my life until I moved to LA, and now they feel like little guides.
Did you know that a group of hummingbirds is called a charm?
That’s adorable. A charm of hummingbirds. That’s so beautiful. They move so fast and never stay in one place for too long, but they always bring light.
Listen to Spit! below and follow Abby Kenna here!
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