“Because I thought I was going to die,” Kingan bluntly responds. At first, I thought he was talking about a universally relatable existential dilemma. After all, everyone in their 30s seems to think they’re going to die at age 40. Instead, he points to a protrusion at the top of his rib cage and tells me about his experience with Brugada Syndrome, a rare genetic disorder that causes potentially fatal irregular heartbeats. “See this? It’s a defibrillator I had put in back in December. Before I got this, the average life expectancy is 40, so I was like, ‘Sweet, I’m gonna die at 40, so I’m just going to get all this shit out as fast as possible.’” 

I’m obviously stunned. Expecting Kingan to simply reveal himself as particularly impatient or, at the most, some sort of neurodivergent prodigy, I certainly didn’t expect such a literal reason for his prolific output. “I got this put in and now I get to live for a longer time,” Kingan says, his voice trailing off a bit. We both laugh uncomfortably at the gallows humour when I observe that he sounds a little disappointed. “When they put it in they stopped my heart. I actually died,” he says. “And you know what I dreamed of? Nothing.”

I  remember the suddenly on-the-nose lyrics to one of Kingan’s recent singles, “Code Pink”: “Code pink because I miss my baby. Code blue because my heart stops for you.” It’s this kind of playfulness that infuses The Pierce Kingans’ music — not just in the puns that make up the titles of his EPs, like Achieving Inner Pierce and Pièrce de Résistance — his humour and candor oozes through the upbeat alt-pop milieu, creating a dark tableau for his saccharine vocals and glistening guitar harmonies to nestle on. The result is a droll but incessantly catchy sound that runs the gamut of influences as diverse as Michael Nau, Tim Koh, John Maus, The Strokes, and the Beatles.   

How did such a singular talent come to be? When his mom caught Kingan and his twin smoking weed at age 15, she decided to give them something else to do. When his brother took up guitar, legendary record producer Colin Stewart put a bass in his hand. After completing the music program at Vancouver Community College he joined The Prettys, A Vancouver band who made a name for themselves with their unruly rock shows and finely written and performed power pop songs, and was recruited briefly by psych outfit The Orange Kyte to play bass on their exceptional 2019 LP, Carousel.