A twin birth is always an auspicious event. But that of identical-twin musicians Benjamin and Alexander Moore, collectively known as Oliver Riot, was especially fateful. After deeming them a potential health risk, doctors diverted the twins’ imminent birth from conflict-torn Peru, where their parents were living, to the United States. And lucky they did: though the newborns arrived safely, mom had a broken pelvis to show for it.   

Breathtaking highs and lows have followed the twins since the get-go; not long after their parents resumed their life abroad, a bombing near their apartment at Peru’s U.S. embassy drove the family back to the States for good. But life in Albuquerque, New Mexico dealt more insidious blows. Growing up, both Benjamin and Alexander individually experienced intense anxiety, and were later diagnosed with a form of OCD called “pure O.” (Comedian Maria Bamford describes the disorder as, “The equivalent of washing your hands, thinking you’re going to be dirty or that you’re somehow dirty, but it’s with thoughts. So as soon as you try to not think of the thought, the thought pops up again.”) For the twins, this manifested as waves of insecurity and fear, coupled with confusing and haunting mental images—all imperceivable to friends, peers, and even one another.

For years, the twins endured such thoughts in isolation, each one shielding the other from what they believed to be his own peculiar secret. Then at age 16, in a family meeting facilitated by their father, they finally learned of their shared obsessive trait—a revelation that proved healing, and one that continues to inform their dark, cathartic harmonies today. 

The band’s newest song and video, “Nervous,” out today on AWAL, is a meditation on all-consuming anxiety. Shot in their modest South L.A. bedroom, the video joins a growing list of recent triumphs by Oliver Riot, including the recent tally of 100 million Spotify streams.

Here, we chat with Ben and Alex about their trials and triumphs—which range from conquering OCD to living in hiding while illegally squatting in a Los Angeles church.

VMAN Tell us about growing up in Albuquerque. Was music a part of your lives?

Benjamin Moore One thing that the desert lacks is just stimulation. Which is a good playing field for creativity. It’s a trade off; we love the southwest but it does get to you. Most people long for more and it’s easy to get trapped in a certain perception of reality. That version can be a muted version of what is out there.

Alexander Moore It’s a desert mindset.

VMAN Was religion a big part of your life growing up?

AM Our mom was raised in the jungle [of Peru], by a group of missionaries, and our dad was born in Chile. This was during a big peak of political terrorism and “Narcos” type shit, in [South America], so a lot of friends of theirs got killed, and our mom still has really bad PTSD. When [someone] blew up the American embassy in Peru, she was in our apartment [nearby]. She felt the apartment shake, and all that shit. She tried to stay as long as she could but a doctor was like, “You can’t do this anymore,” and she moved us to New Mexico. 

VMAN Do you think hearing those stories was part of where your anxiety came from?

AM No, we never really heard about it as kids. We found out about it later, just through other people or family members.

VMAN You both struggled with OCD before knowing that the other one had the same issue. How did this shared struggle ultimately come to light? 

AM People say shame is a silent epidemic, and that’s truly how we felt with OCD.

BM It’s funny because as twins, we were so close in proximity to each other, but this was just an unspoken topic—[especially given] the way that pure O OCD manifests itself. Pure O OCD is “pure obsession” OCD. And the obsession is mental; you can’t treat it by indulging in a physical compulsion, like, say, washing your hands repeatedly. So your parents or your family doesn’t notice it in the way they would notice a kid who never goes outside, or who washes their hands a thousand times. 

The thoughts started small—like, never stepping on a crack in the sidewalk. But as time passed, we both became chronically flogged with horrifying and inescapable thoughts and fears. We’d envision one another dying, or incessantly pray, to try to rid ourselves of these thoughts.

By the time we were 16, both Alex and I had opened up to our dad about it. Our dad had started reading books, educating himself on mental health, and eventually sat us both down—I think it was at a Wendy’s—and forced us to tell each other what was going on. When we finally talked to one another about it, we were both shaking.

VMAN After moving to L.A., you both experienced homelessness. Tell us about that.

AM The chronological order of it was that I was living in a van, after being on the verge of apartment eviction living on a street known for its gang history. I was this skinny ass white boy, and would just be like, “Top of the morning!” And I was working at Pizza Hut. At one point, a friend of ours said, “I have an older family member who belongs to a church that no one really takes care of…” They rented it out to other congregations [to keep it open]. He said, “I could get you a job on the side singing hymns for the old ladies.” I was like, “Look at me…” They won’t hire people who look like us, with all these tattoos. And we had just gotten out of our own [upbringing in the] church, which came with its own internal conflicts. But our friend said, “They won’t notice anything. Just play them songs on Sundays.” So they ended up letting me play there, and ‘arrange’ hymns in the back… Ben and I started squatting illegally without them knowing and making our music. 

Our mental health did get worse [during this period], though… You’re drinking and smoking just for a little bit of comfort. 

Eventually, via a Facebook post, we released the music we had created in the church, with our friend and producer Real Miilk. We had no expectations… Just a strong desire. And it just had a snowball effect began… And this last week we hit 100 million streams. It’s flattering when people are like, “How’d you do it?” Us putting out music from the back of a church may have been the worst marketing strategy of all time…