Check Out Elijah Kellogg, floodlit’s Story

Today we’d like to introduce you to Elijah Kellogg, floodlit.

Hi Elijah , thanks for joining us today. We’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
My name is Elijah Kellogg, I’m 37 years old, and I was born and raised in Santa Clarita, CA. By the end of high school, at only 18, I was already neck-deep in two very distinct–some would say, opposing–but hopelessly intertwined passions: a love for Jesus, and a love for heavy music. Through high school and early college days, even up until I married my wife in 2009, I worked as an intern at my local church by day and I was the lead vocalist and guitar in a local pop-punk band by night. Then, when I started as a youth and worship pastor at a small church plant at age 22, I also started a new band: this time as the lyricist and lead singer/screamer for a much heavier, and eventually more prominent, post-hardcore band. That plant and band lasted for nearly 5 years each, but at right about the same time both came to an end and a new journey and calling began. In 2015, my wife and I announced to our families, friends, and community that we were selling everything, packing up our little belongings and newborn daughter, and heading into long-term ministry overseas. In 2017, after ample preparation, training, and logistics, we moved to South East Asia, and began working with the peoples of Myanmar.

It was at this point that I felt that maybe I had finally “outgrown” being in bands and attempting to balance professional music life with family and ministry. When we moved to the northern jungle regions of Myanmar in early 2018 and began doing community development projects and starting local businesses, I honestly did not think much about playing guitar or writing songs for a band. I still loved music, of course, but that world began to feel very distant. Electricity is shotty where we lived–often weeks without consistent power!–and good instruments were fairly difficult to come by anyway. So I found solace in hosting local acoustic shows in our student cafe, where young Myanmar peoples from all ethnic backgrounds (Burmese, Shan, Lahu, Lisu, Kachin, Wa, so many!) could perform their favorite traditional songs and international hits. And of course I was always asked to play a few worship songs in churches where we’d serve. And for a few years that was life: we had an amazing community and business growing, and I no longer thought of myself personally returning to music as a career. I thought maybe the second strand of passion in my life, one that was so deeply interwoven into my identity, had finally reached its end. I was completely wrong.

It is quite literally impossible for me to share everything about my years in Myanmar in only a few sentences. It was a miraculous lifetime crammed into four short years. I won’t do the story justice, so I’m not going to bother with it. All I can say for now is that by the early morning of February 1st, 2021, I had another daughter, a new language (rough, but progressing!), a successful local business, a student center and coffee shop, 3 acres of farmland, a herd of goats, a local church plant, and a beautiful community of Myanmar friends and family. Four years in, and I was completely certain I was set for life. But when I arrived to our center, my business, at 7am on February 1st, I walked into a room of tears and whispers; an all too familiar dread once again flooding into the air of our beloved host country: the military had retaken the government and arrested all of the opposing, civilian parliamentary members. Days of uncertainty turned into weeks of calamity into months of terrors upon terrors. Of all the chaos and harm and death that ensued, of everything I could speak on, one memory will always remain in my heart from those days. The moment the heavy music came screaming back into my life.

About one week into the turmoil, the whole of my village was required by the military to be home and lights off by 8pm. We closed up the student center and I left my business a little later than hoped, about 7:58. Racing on my motorbike to get back home, a couple of minutes into the ride, I began to see shadows fill the door frames of the little homes and hovels that lined my route. It was families, the big and the small, the young and the old–my neighbors who I would drive by everyday–just barely inside the threshold of their properties, holding an arsenal of pots and pans in their hands. And as rode into the night, at what I assumed was now 8pm sharp, the banging started. Like the first trickles of a rain storm growing into a downpour, the people raised their metal utensils and, with great pain, literally bashed and gnashed and screamed into the night. From hill to distant hill, the rebellious cacophony was deafening, as my village cursed the military regime and wished them banished. As I rode through the powerful wave of mourning, tears began to stream from my eyes and and I felt my body lift from the bike until I was standing. And I screamed as loud and as long as I could.

By the time I got back home, it began to rain, with actual water from the sky, and at 8:13 all was silent again, save the soft patter of droplets on my tin awning. In that moment, I heaved and wiped my eyes and it was revealed to me two things: 1. My life in Myanmar was soon to end, and 2. When I got back the US, I would tell the stories of Myanmar again, though heavy music. I would smash and strum and sing and scream for Myanmar, my village and my family, for the rest of my life.

We were finally emergency evacuated from Myanmar in late April of 2021. Since then, it has taken me nearly 4 years to heal and for God to carefully, systematically put the right timing and people in my life to build a band and to write songs again—songs that were finally worthy of my beloved Myanmar. But now is the time I can say without a doubt, God has come through on His promise 4 years ago. Today I am honored , humbled, and so grateful to be making heavy music again–but this time with absolutely massive purpose. With my dear new friends, Wil, Kevin, Jinwen, and Yifan in a beautifully devastating, international band, called floodlit, I am here for good to craft and utilize heavy music once. And so far so good! People are definitely listening and hearing the messages loud and clear.

Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
Absolutely not. Haha. There’s no story worth telling that doesn’t have some major valleys and suffering involved, but my life and story–what drives the music in my heart and on my tongue–is not the kind of typical suffering that anyone should ever have to witness or experience in person, for weeks on end. On the ground, as a ministry worker, watching an entire world crumble before your eyes–the money drying up, food becoming scarce, seeing the wounds on your students and children, and the piles of bodies and rubble of homes and businesses–it’s for real terrifying. Its memories that today can just suddenly make you go weak and speechless and start shaking and crying for no reason. But its those same memories, and all of their silver-linings of hope and power and the beauty of people’s courage and bravery in the face of defeat, that make the songs happen. I have so quickly found my voice again through the mourning.

Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
My band, floodlit, is comprised of 5 amazing musicians and friends. Including myself, there is William Jackson on guitar and vocals, Kevin Pope on drums, Jinwen “Candy” Zhang on bass and vocals, and Yifan “Yvonne” Li on lead guitar. Candy and Yvonne are both young women who are here from China as musicians and students. Everybody absolutely shreds, and together we make a pretty incredible sound and songs, for fans of bands like Deftones, System of a Down, Thrice, Bring Me the Horizon, Knocked Loose, Spiritbox, Flyleaf–pretty much all things heavy and with a great rhythm. Our sound has been described as melodic post-hardcore meets anthemic metalcore. But honestly, we just make songs that sound right for the purpose of the story.

floodlit has been online for about 3 months now, and the reception has been phenomenal. We’ve already grown to about 15,000 followers/subscribers across all platforms, and our debut tracks, “AMa” and “AKo” have already seen almost 40k streams. “AMa” in Burmese means “Older Sister” and “AKo” means older brother. Both work together to explore the horrors of family enduring through conflict with one another and under the pressures of all-out civil war, and both will be featured on our upcoming album, to be released in mid-2026. There are music videos for each live and playing now.

What are your plans for the future?
floodlit’s debut album is produced by Billboard artist and producer, Stephen Rezza, assistant engineered by platinum streaming and Grammy nominated Luke Dimond, and mixed/mastered by multi-award wining and Billboard #1 engineer, Seth Munson. Our team was already incredible, and now that we’re online and in the public’s eye, we’re thrilled to be working with Transparent Media for PR and Marketing management. By the time our debut album releases in mid-2026 we’d love to have an album release show announced, as well as a few summer concerts and festivals lined-up. A fall tour would be amazing! We’re taking it day-by-day and seeking to continue growing our following and team. We’re hungry to share our music with anyone who will listen, and we’re very literally just getting started!

Contact Info:

• Website: https://floodlitband.com
• Instagram: https://instagram.com/floodlitband
• Facebook: https://facebook.com/floodlitband
• Youtube: https://youtube.com/@floodlitband
• Other: https://tiktok.com/floodlitband

Image Credits
All Photos taken by Alissa Wyle, holysmokephotography.com