Kris Racer

Kris Racer


"Kris Racer plays sweet acoustic pop, the type of heartfelt music embraced by sensitive boys with shaky voices around the world." - Onion A.V Club + melodica ++ guitar looping +++ vocal harmony looping


Between indie pop and acoustic/folk, Kris Racer found a comfortable place, tucked away from the dress shirts and slacks that accompanied the drudgery of his 9 AM - 9 PM corporate consulting job. Initially reared on SoCal punk acts like Face to Face and Bad Religion, Kris Racer (despite the stage name - a spliced AOL username suggestion of "Ski Racer" made in '91 when finding that "Kris" had been taken) slowed down a notch to broaden his sound with guitar/vocal loops (all recorded and performed live) and The Association-style ooh's and aah's (studio recorded).

And while this sound has hooked fans of both influences, his stage show has remained consistent, hearkening to his earlier days of entertaining sets and constant movement. Video clip -


Sharper than Knives

Written By: Kris Racer

Sparks fly from the wheels of the train like a broken down mint at the back of your mouth, so parched by small grains of sand you swallowed while eating from the palm of his hand. So farfetched are the stories we tell, for the tip of our tongues cuts sharper than knives. Sparks fly from the wheels of the el like a broken down mint, at the back of your mouth.

Banner Year

Written By: Kris Racer

She’s practiced all her parts, untied a stomach left in knots. And with a smile, she shrugs off the past. Like a bulletpoint outline, she’s crossing off the list with a strike of a match and a flourish. And you always know the best way to damage a heart refined; it skips out of habit. So, reconstruct a life with a trophy and a wife to solve all of your problems. But it is I who contradicts, waves unfounded rhetoric on my flags, so assuming. And it was a banner year.

This is Your Emergency

Written By: Kris Racer

I get chills when I stop and start up my car with a flick of the wrist. And it’s the rest of the steps, the brakes and the shifts, that keep me running late. I’m always running late when you are red-faced and grim, fists are balled up like the knots in the curve of my neck. while it’s the smallest of things that weakens my laugh, you know I slouch my back when you’re obsessed and impatient, crying for hours and waiting. Well, if I could catch up on sleep, maybe I would wake up and believe emergencies. Oh, the sound of your voice - a bit hasty, like it’s been pushed to the edge of a cliff. While it’s the rest of your words, the swears and each curse, that tend to get me down. You always keep me down when you’re obsessed….and this is your emergency.

Lesser ways of an Office

Written By: Kris Racer

I am whole. I am honest. And with these promises, I’ve sold out to myself cause I am biased and presuming. And I am lying in a rut and smiling just because. Oh why do I toss and turn at every indecision in my sight, unbeknownst that there is fortune buried deep inside these lies? If I could cover my big mouth and swallow my pride….not like the businessman at my office, he points his fingers for his losses when he’s responsible. It’s incredible; won’t he change or accommodate? I will sing about burdens: a twenty-something who has made not one difference cause he is biased and presuming. And he is climbing every rung and always looking back….not like the businessman at my office, I point my fingers at your losses. I’m irresponsible and held accountable. And I have changed for lesser ways.


Written By: Kris Racer

Exonerated. You don’t owe anything to me. you know, I’m truly passionate, beyond belief, behind you all the way. To the helm of this sinking ship, weighed down with reticence, I swear I will drown with it. And let my lungs fill with water, salted and sour, like the taste of smoke and alcohol, engrained under your tongue from one more show, just one more song, despite your own protest. To the edge of this somber stage that represents my happiness, so “don’t fall off again.” Because the balance of closeness is so microscopic, I can’t even see it, but believe me I feel it. I breathe it. I know you’re waiting for someone to maintain trust and sincerity. Well, at least you acknowledge the tenets of distance are golden. So golden. I know you’re waiting for someone to maintain trust and sincerity. Well, at least you acknowledge that I am still present, at least you have this much.

North Milwaukee Damen

Written By: Kris Racer

Friday night never called me. “well, I spent all day just caught in traffic.” And it’s kind of like the same old story, only sung beneath a heavy sighing. Saturday searched for meaning behind tempered glass and broken windshields. And it’s built up like a complex sentence, cast in type like auto wreckage. I will throw myself out into intersections where I will stagger; I will stumble out my awkward presence. Hazard lights hear the sirens. An ambulance speeds to the violence and it’s spelled out just like mathematics: (the hurt + shame = bitter quiet) You will be sorry, so don’t you worry. From here on out, you’ll be forever sorry. So, please just take me out to the country where I’ll be safe away from this city.


Time Spent on Airplanes - 2004
Has a Banner Year - 2007

Set List

7-10 songs (30 - 60 min)