Knocked Loose are the kings of Louisville. Now they’re conquering the rest of the world. As they prepare to hit Slam Dunk, and then stadiums with Metallica, Bryan Garris looks back at their whirlwind two years, and how he’s working to adjust to where his band find themselves…
Louisville has a way of saluting its high-achieving residents. A respected place on the map in the worlds of fried chicken, horse racing, bourbon and baseball, Kentucky’s second city is one that wears its notability with pride. Its boozy history has, at one time, earned it the nickname the ‘Wall Street of Whiskey’, while outside the Louisville Slugger Factory, its reputation as the household name of baseball bats (go on, think of another) is represented by one of its products the size of a tree.
It’s in its people that the Kentucky town reserves a particular kind of celebration. Around the city, its most famous faces – a varied and admirable bunch of musicians, sporting legends, authors, activists, actors and, in a particularly unique flex, Happy Birthday writers Mildred and Patty Hill – appear draped on buildings on enormous Hometown Hero banners. Alongside their picture, massive white lettering declares that it’s their Louisville: Muhammad Ali’s Louisville, Jennifer Lawrence’s Louisville, Static Major’s Louisville, My Morning Jacket’s Louisville.
Last September, at the enormous Louder Than Life festival, it became Knocked Loose’s Louisville. In front of a stage-engulfing banner that (quite literally) spelled it out in 10-foot high block capitals, at their biggest show to date, billed below only Bring Me The Horizon, the usual brutal sturm und drang of their music was bolstered by a huge swell of civic pride.
Bryan Garris’ instructions to his neighbours in the 50,000-strong crowd drawn from across the globe might not have made it into a mayoral speech, but he’d probably appreciate the spirit.
“If you’re from Louisville,” the frontman demanded, clad in a Louisville Black Caps baseball jersey, somehow feeling his fellow locals weren’t going quite bananas enough. “I want you to show these motherfuckers how it’s done.”
“It felt like the city really got behind us,” he says, looking back today. “We’ve always worn Louisville on our sleeves everywhere we’ve gone, and everywhere we’ve been able to take it. But it kind of felt like home was a little bit hesitant in accepting us, making sure that it was the real thing, and that we actually cared about being from a place like Kentucky. That felt like a moment where the city was like, ‘Alright, we’re here, and we claim you as one of ours.’
“It was,” Bryan smiles, “very, very rewarding.”
Particularly over the past two years, Knocked Loose – often preceded with the descriptor ‘Louisville sluggers’ – have been busy ambassadors for their hometown. In 2024, their fantastic third album You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To found them turning from a very good name in hardcore circles to something of public figures. That winter, as well as picking up Kerrang!’s Album Of The Year gong and being taken under Slipknot’s wing on the U.S. leg of their Here Comes The Pain 25th anniversary tour, Bryan and his bandmates – guitarists Isaac Hale and Nicko Calderon, bassist Kevin Otten and drummer Kevin ‘Pacsun’ Kaine – ended up on national TV, playing the scalding Suffocate with guest screamer Poppy on Jimmy Kimmel Live! to two million viewers.
“They gave us the room to turn that into whatever we wanted,” says the vocalist. “They let us do fire. They let us play loud. They let us sell tickets to people who actually wanted to see the band, and those sold out so fast that there were people climbing telephone poles to watch us over the fence.”
Even if not everyone was so keen – Bryan’s biscuit-dry Instagram response to complaints from unsettled viewers: “PS if it scared you, good” – it hasn’t slowed Knocked Loose becoming one of the most notable heavy bands in the world.
Suffocate was in the running for a GRAMMY. They may not have won, but they at least have the distinction of being the heaviest nomination ever, which in itself was worth Bryan putting on a very snazzy suit for.
In the UK, they sold out London’s O2 Academy Brixton as part of their biggest tour to date. Then they hit the festivals of Europe and America, becoming a lesson on how it’s possible to put such white-hot, bulldozing power onto stages that big and turn it into mince. All this, remembers Bryan, felt “like a rehearsal for that moment at Louder Than Life, that homecoming”.
And their latest action’s taken a bit of Louisville with it as well. Recently, the good people of the city turned up to show the rest of the world how it’s done, in the video for Hive Mind, Knocked Loose’s new banger with Denzel Curry. In a local skate park, a no-phones gathering in front of several hundred fans went feral.
“We wanted to do a live show video, but it had to be the craziest version of that. We got, like, 700 people down to the bowl in the skate park, with people stage-diving everywhere,” says Bryan. “We told everyone it was absolutely not a show, but then it sort of was! We played some songs, then when Denzel came down we did the new one five times, and people just went crazy. It felt great to do that in Louisville.”
Things aren’t slowing down. They’re about to return to Slam Dunk, to repeat the madness of their pulverising 2019 gig there on a much, much bigger scale. A couple of months after that, in July, they’ll be hitting the stadia of Europe as hand-picked guests of no less a band than Metallica.
“It’s crazy that all this is happening,” wonders Bryan. “It’s nothing that we could ever have wished for, or expected to happen to us.”
Well, it is. And it’s still happening, and only getting bigger. Welcome to Knocked Loose’s 2026.
We join Bryan lounging on a settee at home, where he’s actually had more of a chance than you might expect to spend time recently.
Though things were always on, always something to do, the focus was on doing less, but making a statement of whatever they did – Louisville, Brixton, the main stages at Germany’s Rock am Ring and Rock im Park, next to BMTH, Weezer, Biffy and A Day To Remember.
Their European headlining run, even, “was only, like, 10 days, so it didn’t even really feel like a tour”. As a hardcore band used to grafting on the road, where a full diary is an indicator of dedication, “this was something very new to us”.
What it meant was that every show was its own, an opportunity in itself. Each could be treated almost individually, as the band and their crew – “That’s weird, we have crew now, and we’re talking about buses for them and trucks for everything, which I never thought we’d ever be dealing with, but it means we get to give our friends jobs…” – properly thought about how to put Knocked Loose on the world’s biggest stages while keeping them red in tooth and claw.
For Bryan, it also offered time to take a decent look at himself and how he was navigating this brave new world.
“We’re a band that’s so go, go, go, go, go,” he explains. “And I’ve never really had that mental break where I can go: ‘Am I taking care of myself? Am I doing this the best way that I can? Am I the best version of myself? Am I the best bandmate that I can be?’ There was a lot of reflecting, so that I could come back stronger, and so that I could learn what I need in the future to operate at a higher capacity.”
The break also allowed Bryan “to take a step back and look at where things have gotten. I was a kid when this started. I’m no longer a kid, and I’m juggling more things in my personal life, more things in my career, and trying to really focus on how to do that in a healthy way.”
One thing he comes back to more than once is learning. “I always want to keep learning, because that’s how you improve yourself.”
As well as working out how to adapt, that’s also using struggles and difficulties to figure out how to avoid them in future. When asked about any pressure of knowing there was an opportunity to step up, he points to the making of and first touring for You Won’t Go… as an example of what he’s been picking through to know how to be stronger next time.
“I don’t want to say that I was burnt out by any means, but the last album was the first time being in this band that was a very difficult process for me personally,” Bryan says. “I was overthinking everything, struggling with my voice, struggling with lyrics, all these things that made the process a little bit harder. Then we went straight into touring and straight into all of the success that that record had and what it continues to be.
“As soon as I had the opportunity to take a step back and talk to myself, it was about, ‘Okay, how do I never go through that again? What would a record sound like if I was not in that headspace? What would it feel like for me personally as a musician?’ So, there was a lot of reflecting in that sense that I think was very beneficial for me on a personal level.”
Softly spoken, endearingly polite and with a demeanour that suggests a deep kindness within, there’s also a vulnerability to Bryan in conversation that one might call shyness. Where some who find themselves in similar positions adapt to being ‘the face’ of things by having a charismatic, red carpet mode to slip into, he’s of a quieter stripe.
Everything he says, though, is something he’s clearly given thought to. On the change between being a known quantity hardcore band to being much more of A Guy in the public eye, he replies, “I’ve tried to just not let it get to me, not let it change me.
“I try to approach everything with sincerity and genuinely be myself. Obviously I’ve gotten better over the years at representing myself when it comes to situations like this – doing an interview and learning how I want to present myself, and what I want to give away versus what I want to keep to myself. It’s a never-ending journey, but what I’ve always tried to keep consistent is the sincerity.”
You can see this when you watch Knocked Loose playing in music’s Premier League. They remain a gnarly, uneven square peg that’s lost none of its aggy nature or sharp edges. They are who they are, with no capitulation to where they are. There’s still sweat and rawness and physicality. As with Jimmy Kimmel, a satisfying and gratifying feeling of illegitimacy that music so violent and caustic should be allowed in these white halls.
As perversely amusing as all of this can be, it’s also why Knocked Loose are where they are. It would be easy to lie to ensure a second invite. Much harder to have the balls to show up and potentially lose it by being yourself.
“I think that has allowed our fanbase to grow with the band, because we’re all very transparent and approachable, and it feels like you’re kind of a part of it,” Bryan ponders. “That’s what hardcore is: there’s no barrier between you and the artist. Obviously, as things have grown and we’ve been put on bigger stages there’s barricades that are 20 feet away and all this stuff, but I try to approach things with the same sincerity that I would if you just came up to me at a show and started talking to me.
“I don’t want to sell some character. When I do these interviews, I’m not clocking into a persona. I’m just trying to be myself and be transparent and be grateful.”
As they roll into 2026, Knocked Loose have a lot to be grateful for. For just one example, Bryan tells a story about what happened after Knocked Loose got offstage at their Brixton show.
Being a red letter day – “When the idea was put to us, we had no idea, it’s such a big place, across the world, but it was crazy” – the band’s management had flown out to celebrate with them. In the midst of the party, they decided they needed to talk shop, and politely asked everyone not in Knocked Loose to give them a minute. With the door closed, Bryan says their manager told them something he’d never done before: ‘Guys, we got an offer, and I’ve already said yes.’
He said yes without running it up the flagpole, he explained, because you don’t say no to Metallica. By the way, lads, you’re spending the summer with them.
“That kind of took a second to sink in,” laughs Bryan. “It was almost like shock. But then it was this really big, exciting celebration. Everybody started to branch off to call their parents and tell them. It was awesome.”
Knocked Loose have already had a lesson from the school of hard knocks while opening for both Slayer – “They’re the hardest of the Big Four to open for, it was by no means bad, but their fans don’t give a fuck about anyone but Slayer” – and $uicideboy$. Bryan knows he has “a very polarising voice for Metallica’s crowd”, but he’s also aware that there’s a challenge to find a new part of themselves in these places.
“What’s funny is that there’s a part of me that sees more of a crossover in young $uicideboy$ fans when we did arenas with them than I do in old Metallica fans,” Bryan considers. “You know what I mean? Old Metallica fans are very protective of what they call metal and what they let in, and we’re so abrasive and intense. It’ll be great, but we have to know how to tap into these crowds.”
There’s also the small matter of nerves offstage as well. Again, there’s questions that wouldn’t have been there five years ago.
“What am I going to say to James Hetfield?!” he asks. “Like, he’s gonna come up to me and say, ‘What’s up?’ And I’m just gonna freeze, like, ‘I’ve listened to you since I was fucking 10 years old.’ And Metallica is the band for Isaac. They’re why he plays guitar, he knows every single song. There’s a lot of layers of excitement for that.”
They haven’t met any of Metallica yet, but The Four Horsemen’s reputation for taking care of bands precedes them. Reports from Bryan’s mates in Architects, who were in his position a couple of years ago, are of it being one of the best tours of their lives. As Knocked Loose found on their run with Slipknot, having a hero hang out as a fellow musician is a huge thing.
“Corey Taylor came into our dressing room,” Bryan says. “I was sitting there and we were talking, and he had the old-school mask in his hand. I said, ‘Man, I’m sorry if this is weird, but… can I hold the mask?’ He just handed me the mask, and I had this moment where I was sitting there on the couch, holding the mask in my lap, looking at it going, ‘Dude, this is nuts. This is insane.’”
Before that, there’s Slam Dunk, where Knocked Loose will be returning as heroes themselves – even if Bryan shakes his head somewhat at the idea. That doesn’t mean he’s not “excited to see how crazy it can get”.
“I remember last time, it was a really heavy stage, and it just went nuts. I’m looking forward to being at a festival in a place where I’m a little bit more confident in the crowd. We’ve had some of my favourite sets as a band at festivals in the UK.
“And it’s cool that it’s a festival where there’s someone like us, and then Good Charlotte, and it all works. I love a mixed bill. I think it’s exciting. It makes the crazier sets crazier. It makes the softer sets more exciting. It benefits everybody when it’s not just breakdowns for 10 hours straight.”
As he prepares for all this to come, Bryan is still reflecting and understanding exactly where he and his pals are. “We used to sleep in the van, and our crew was a friend selling merch.”
As he says many, many times, though, he could not be more grateful. Charmingly, there’s also a sense of wonder about the whole thing, even with the confidence and stability his band have earned. It’s to their huge credit that they realise how they can pay these blessings and fortunes forward.
“It’s just crazy to see where it’s gone,” he smiles. “We’ll get a call from our manager going, ‘I think we need a second truck.’ I’m still like, ‘What? What do you mean?’
“When we started, we bought a $1,500 van from a church and toured in it for two years, until it literally broke down on the side of the road. Now we’re having conversations about trucks.”
They’re also in quite uncharted waters. A lot of the stuff Knocked Loose are now being invited to do aren’t really things you can plot for in a grand plan. You just have to go with it and see where you are at the other end. Having already done some of that processing with what’s happened to them, for Bryan, it’s more than enough.
“I had a lot of moments in the past two years where I felt that if everything comes screeching to a halt, and this is the ceiling, I could do this for the rest of my life.
“I’m rambling,” he smiles, “but I’m very, very grateful for where it has gone. I can’t talk enough about it. I could literally just talk for hours about how grateful I am to be in the position that we are.”
You’ve earned it. Now, g’wan, show these motherfuckers – the UK, Slam Dunk, Metallica – how it’s done.
This interview originally appeared in the spring 2026 print issue. Get your Slam Dunk Festival 2026 tickets now.
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