Around the time he self-released his debut album, I Hate Jazz, in 2011, Mike Krol hatched an ambitious plan: He would record and release one 10-inch record every year for the rest of his life. But Krol did not put a record out in 2012.
"It's really hard," he deadpans. "It's just really hard to do."
Work on his second album stalled as Krol burned out because of his day job. "I was just sitting on this record that only needed a month of me working on it with full concentration," he adds, "and I would have finished it."
Krol did what any perfectly unreasonable but immensely passionate person would: He quit his job to focus on music. And a decision seemingly destined for a humbling—if not downright calamitous—end actually paid off.
"That's when everything started to turn around for me," he says. "I finished the record. I went on my first tour. I started sending records out to people, trying to make something happen."
Like its predecessor, 2013's Trust Fund was a short, sweet blast of fuzzy power pop that flew under pretty much everyone's radar. But by the time of its release, Krol had a small but influential following. Among his supporters were Ottawa pop-punk mainstay Steve Adamyk Band, which encouraged Krol to play 2013's Ottawa Explosion Weekend, and comedian Tom Scharpling of The Best Show, who offered to help Krol find a label for his next record.
"I took that as an opportunity to go and record something quickly and get it to him," Krol says. "That being said, I didn't really expect this."
"This" was Scharpling coming through. "This" was a deal with Merge Records, which released Krol's third album, Turkey, in August. "This" was an opening spot on Mac McCaughan of Superchunk's recent solo tour. "This" was a headlining tour that brings Krol to Portland on Dec. 4. And "this" was kind of weird for Krol. "I'm still just kind of blown away that this actually happened and that this is my life," he says.
Krol felt he was making records no one cared about, he says of his pre-Merge years. "And when I would listen to the records that were popular in the scene or genre that I felt like my music fell into," he adds, "I would be like, 'My record's better than this.'"
His confidence is not misplaced. Turkey is an addictive jolt of raw, poppy punk, one of the finest albums of its kind since Jay Reatard's Blood Visions, and while it shares sonic territory with the likes of such contemporaries as King Tuff and Ty Segall, Krol's work is imbued with a disarming sincerity and almost childlike sense of wounded wonder. These winning qualities set Krol apart, but they also make him nervous now that more people are paying attention.
"I feel kind of exposed," he says. "Sometimes I feel like, oh, I wish I didn't write songs that were just like, 'These are my feelings.'"
It's a small price to pay for living the dream. CHRIS STAMM.
SEE IT: Mike Krol plays Bunk Bar, 1028 SE Water Ave., with Rupert Angeleyes and Landlines, on Friday, Dec. 4. 9:30 pm. $8 advance, $10 day of show. 21+.
Willamette Week