Enoke
Band Story
From Strings to Screens: The Sonic Journey of Enoch Kim
In an age where music often feels mass-produced and disposable, there are artists like Enoch Kim who carve a path through sheer grit, talent, and an unflinching commitment to storytelling through sound. I first caught wind of Enoch not on a smoky club stage, but behind the scenes—creating sonic landscapes that carry more emotional weight than most chart-toppers manage in a full LP. His story isn’t the usual tale of rock 'n roll excess. It’s the narrative of quiet persistence, and in many ways, it’s more rock 'n roll than most.
Enoch moved to Chicago in 2007, fresh out of Greenville College with an audio engineering degree in one hand and a violin in the other. Early on, he cut his teeth with bands like Jadiid and The Hudson Branch, juggling multiple instruments—violin, keys, drums—like a musical Swiss Army knife. But it wasn’t long before the studio lights called louder than the stage.
By 2012, he had stepped out of the band life and into the often solitary world of composing. The first gig? A doc titled Remember Me Sue, about a visionary woman working with kids on Chicago’s South Side. From there, it was a slow burn—crafting scores for indie filmmakers, cutting audio for podcast pioneers, and finding his voice in projects like the app-based storybook Flewn, still one of his most beloved works. Fast forward to 2017, and Enoch's talents landed him at Gimlet Media, where he's been crafting the sound and soul of the hit podcast The Pitch ever since.
But don’t let the Spotify plays and podcast credits fool you—this road wasn't lined with applause. "It was really hard," Enoch says, recalling the early years of relentless cold-emailing, unpaid gigs, and the deafening silence that comes from building a dream alone. Music might have been his passion, but the loneliness and a lifelong struggle with depression were his daily battles. And yet, Enoch persisted. Not because he wanted fame, but because he had to create—because the silence was more unbearable than the struggle.
Now, Enoch runs his own business as a composer and audio engineer, with credits on documentaries like app: the human story and Cliff, Superfan!. You’ve probably heard his music in YouTube vlogs by names like Gary Vee, Ben Brown, or the Slyfox Family, even if you didn’t realize it. He doesn’t scream for your attention; he earns it—one score, one scene, one story at a time.
Growing up, Enoch was that kid—the "tortured artist" before he even knew the term. Obsessed with Christian music and driven by the relentless pressure of the immigrant grind, he wasn’t born into the spotlight—he built his own. As a rock journalist, I’ve seen artists rise and fall, flash and fade. But Enoch Kim? He’s the kind of quiet force that doesn’t just ride trends—he sets the emotional tone for them.
His journey is proof that sometimes the most powerful noise is made in silence—through discipline, depth, and a deep respect for the craft. Keep your ears open. You’ll hear Enoch Kim’s sound, whether you know it or not.
In an age where music often feels mass-produced and disposable, there are artists like Enoch Kim who carve a path through sheer grit, talent, and an unflinching commitment to storytelling through sound. I first caught wind of Enoch not on a smoky club stage, but behind the scenes—creating sonic landscapes that carry more emotional weight than most chart-toppers manage in a full LP. His story isn’t the usual tale of rock 'n roll excess. It’s the narrative of quiet persistence, and in many ways, it’s more rock 'n roll than most.
Enoch moved to Chicago in 2007, fresh out of Greenville College with an audio engineering degree in one hand and a violin in the other. Early on, he cut his teeth with bands like Jadiid and The Hudson Branch, juggling multiple instruments—violin, keys, drums—like a musical Swiss Army knife. But it wasn’t long before the studio lights called louder than the stage.
By 2012, he had stepped out of the band life and into the often solitary world of composing. The first gig? A doc titled Remember Me Sue, about a visionary woman working with kids on Chicago’s South Side. From there, it was a slow burn—crafting scores for indie filmmakers, cutting audio for podcast pioneers, and finding his voice in projects like the app-based storybook Flewn, still one of his most beloved works. Fast forward to 2017, and Enoch's talents landed him at Gimlet Media, where he's been crafting the sound and soul of the hit podcast The Pitch ever since.
But don’t let the Spotify plays and podcast credits fool you—this road wasn't lined with applause. "It was really hard," Enoch says, recalling the early years of relentless cold-emailing, unpaid gigs, and the deafening silence that comes from building a dream alone. Music might have been his passion, but the loneliness and a lifelong struggle with depression were his daily battles. And yet, Enoch persisted. Not because he wanted fame, but because he had to create—because the silence was more unbearable than the struggle.
Now, Enoch runs his own business as a composer and audio engineer, with credits on documentaries like app: the human story and Cliff, Superfan!. You’ve probably heard his music in YouTube vlogs by names like Gary Vee, Ben Brown, or the Slyfox Family, even if you didn’t realize it. He doesn’t scream for your attention; he earns it—one score, one scene, one story at a time.
Growing up, Enoch was that kid—the "tortured artist" before he even knew the term. Obsessed with Christian music and driven by the relentless pressure of the immigrant grind, he wasn’t born into the spotlight—he built his own. As a rock journalist, I’ve seen artists rise and fall, flash and fade. But Enoch Kim? He’s the kind of quiet force that doesn’t just ride trends—he sets the emotional tone for them.
His journey is proof that sometimes the most powerful noise is made in silence—through discipline, depth, and a deep respect for the craft. Keep your ears open. You’ll hear Enoch Kim’s sound, whether you know it or not.
Band Members
Enoch Kim
Enoch Kim
Location: AMERICA NORTH: USA:Illinois (IL)
Genre: Folk-Rock