KELLAN CHRISTOPHER CRAGG THROWS IT ALL ON THE TABLE WITH “WRONG BALLOON”
At just 18 years old, Kellan Christopher Cragg isn’t making music to be understood—he’s making it because it’s the only way he understands himself.
The Minneapolis-based singer, multi-instrumentalist, and producer recently put out his debut album, WRONG BALLOON—a full-on whirlwind of voice memos, emotional snapshots, and bold, messy soundscapes. He does it all himself: writing, producing, recording, even mixing everything from his bedroom setup. For Kellan, music isn’t just a passion. It’s essential.
“Music isn’t something I do,” he told me. “It’s the way I live.” You can hear that in every part of WRONG BALLOON, a project Kellan calls “the epitome of me.” Built during just one month this past July, the album feels like a raw brain dump—poetic, scattered, emotional, and somehow exactly how it’s supposed to be. It captures the feeling of being stuck between looking inward and trying to make sense of the world outside.
Kellan grew up in Minnesota, surrounded by music even though his parents didn’t play instruments themselves. He taught himself piano completely by ear, trusting what felt right instead of following any traditional path. “I never had a script or anything,” he said. “It’s like ignorance is bliss, but in its purest form.”
Even his most unconventional ideas come straight from real life. On “Gun,” one of the album’s standout moments, Kellan samples a voice memo conversation with his cousin, who once worked at Coldstone. What started as a casual conversation about wages turned into a story about someone pulling a gun at work—captured by accident while Kellan was recording the piano session.
“I forgot I was even recording,” he said. “It was just supposed to be an instrumental with a few voice memos layered in, but then I found that conversation and added a vocal line. It all just happened.”
The visual side of WRONG BALLOON is just as personal. The cover art features a real photograph from his grandfather’s 50th birthday in 2008—a candid moment Kellan stumbled across while scrolling through family archives.“It wasn’t about nostalgia or family,” he explained. “It was just the feeling the photo gave me. It felt right.” Even the album title, WRONG BALLOON, wasn’t planned. It came from an offhand conversation with a friend and stuck, matching the off-kilter, deeply personal world Kellan was creating.
That spontaneous spirit defines his creative process. He doesn’t write music to be correct or calculated. He makes songs because it’s how he processes the world. “The songs explain a thought better than I ever could if I just said it,” he said. “There’s nothing technical or packaged about it. It’s just thrown on the table in front of you.”
When asked if there’s anything about him that doesn’t show up in his music, he barely paused. “There’s no character,” he said. “What you hear is just Kellan.”
And what you hear? It’s already years ahead of his age.