Colby Kent & The Stompin Ground

Colby Kent is a self-taught musician and songwriter. His songs are unhurried, haunting, and human—rooted in the raw, working-class heart of the Upper Midwest. In his early twenties, he took a job at The Cabooze, a legendary Minneapolis music club, working nights as a barback. During the interview, he found himself transfixed by a piano being soundchecked under a single beam of light cutting through the smoke. He knew in that moment that someday he would play that stage. He spent the years that followed behind the scenes, stocking beer and quietly studying the music from the shadows.

Within a few years, he got his opportunity—opening for national acts like the Hackensaw Boys and Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band, while still working behind the bar. It started with a three-piece band called The Transposers, fronted by Colby, alongside his childhood best friend, Kurt Perry, and his college friend, Billy Vessel. That project eventually evolved into Sons of Mantorville with the addition of longtime friends, the Aarts Brothers—Tony and Jason—bringing a wilder, untamed energy to the sound. From there, they began performing across Minneapolis at venues like the 331 Club, Fine Line, and the Turf Club, and slowly expanded their reach across the state.

After spending a decade in Minneapolis, a series of unfortunate events slammed that chapter shut. Colby had no choice but to leave the city. He built a tiny house on wheels and took his dog, Whisky, to his hometown of Mantorville, Minnesota, searching for a new path. He would soon meet Professor Crow, a professional sideman and consummate shredder of the mandolin, who became central to the sound that grew into Colby Kent & The Stompin’ Ground. Their debut album, “How Far,” was recorded by Ryan Young at Neon Brown Studio after only three months of playing together. Violinist and vocalist Ellen Thomes joined the band for their second album, “Ancient Dusty Streets,” adding haunting melodic layers and bone-chilling harmonies to the project.

Those years in the city and the people he met left a permanent mark, especially the musicians he watched rise from the Cabooze stage. Looking back on that time, Colby wrote "Oh, Minnesota," a heartfelt ode to the artists and community that helped shape his path. Part tribute, part thank-you, it’s a love letter to the scene that raised him.

A lot has happened over the past twenty years of making music—bands formed and faded, roads taken and abandoned—but the spirit remains: stripped-down, roots-heavy, and forged in the fire of real-life friendship and loss.

These days, Colby performs solo—voice, guitar, harmonica, and banjo—carrying the weight of a full band in a single breath across the Midwest. He still records with Professor Crow and produces records in The Cauldron, the hayloft studio he built by hand. Driving from town to town up and down the Mississippi River Valley, in a rusted van packed with gear and grit, he now makes the road his home. What began in the shadows has now become a sound of its own.