Basic Folk: Kris Delmhorst

Kris Delmhorst is not a good sleeper. The Western Massachusetts songwriter is usually awake from 2 or 3 a.m. to about 4 or 5 a.m. Sometimes it feels nice and floaty, but other times she is wide awake worrying about anything her brain can get a hold of. This is similar to a feeling with which she ended her tenth record, Ghosts in the Garden, with the song “Something to Show.” Thankfully, she set us straight and explained that, indeed, the track is a hopeful prayer that she will have something to show for all the questioning, trying, pushing through, and general work that she and fellow humans are doing. Too bad it can’t happen in the daylight hours. In our conversation for Basic Folk, we talk about this and the other themes and songs on the new album, like the unbearable emotional density of summer ending, ambient restlessness during destruction, carrying unresolved loves, and, of course, death.

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Kris experienced a great loss in 2021 with the death of her dear friend and collaborator Billy Conway. Her husband, Jeffrey Foucault, memorialized Billy in his 2024 album, The Universal Fire, which he called “a working wake” for their friend. He appeared on Basic Folk and spoke at length about Billy and what he meant to the Boston music community. I encourage you to listen to that conversation and Jeff’s record. Kris had known Billy for many decades; he produced a couple of her early albums and had been a huge presence in her life. The title track, “Ghosts in the Garden,” addresses Billy’s death, which sounds like it was a beautiful one, something that not very many people experience. He was surrounded by a houseful of friends and family celebrating and keeping him company up until the moment he passed.

There are many types of ghosts on the album: lost loves and past mistakes, roads not taken, and our possible futures, too. It was recorded in rural Maine at Great Northern Sound, which is inside an 1800s farmhouse that must keep its own ghosts. Kris, a great lover of collaboration, brings in many guest vocalists like Rose Cousins, Anaïs Mitchell, Ana Egge, Taylor Ashton, Rachel Baiman, Anna Tivel, and her husband, Jeffrey. I was surprised to learn that she had not actually planned for any guest vocalists. She made the decision, recorded some reference mixes in Maine, and listened on the drive home. She was startled to discover that she heard each guest vocalist on the track with her in the car, which prompted her to write some emails and get them all on the record. The songs want what the songs want, so you better give it to them or else… more ghosts?


Photo Credit: Sasha Pedro

Rapt Reflects On Life’s Many Endings With ‘Until the Light Takes Us’

Jacob Ware is a bit of a weirdo. Known onstage these days as Rapt, the singer-songwriter has a way of coming up with an album title and writing the entire record around a central sentiment. His fifth studio album – titled Until the Light Takes Us – serves as a direct response to a 2008 heavy metal documentary of the same name.

“I just thought, Until the Light Takes Us is such an evocative title. A few people have commented on that over the years as being unhinged – that I come up with the album name first and then write the album,” he says, adding that the documentary details “all the horrible shit in the ’90s of the black metal scene in Norway.”

From the gentle trickle of one-minute opener “Over Aged Borders” to the dreamy “Fields of Juniper,” Rapt’s latest album drenches in the notion of endings and existence. Heartbreak. Death. Suffocating blackness. Each song, as heavy as it might be, seems to coat the album with both dark and light – stemming from his confrontation with the end. 

Rapt’s delicately-spun indie-folk is awash in luminescent piano, aching between flaky layers of acoustic guitar. Ware finds himself scattering like a tumble weed, squeezed somewhere between the throaty ache of Carrie Elkin and scratchy pangs of yearning (akin to Bonny Light Horseman in their rawest form). His head swims in thoughts of death, leading his writing to root around in the afterlife. It’s a far cry from his heavy metal days, a sharp red underline to this chapter of his life. “I’m always slightly aware of mortality because I’ve had a lot of health issues, in my teenage years and early twenties, like epilepsy. It’s wild. It pulls the rug out from under your life daily, and you don’t know when the next seizures come in,” he says.

“I haven’t had a seizure for eight years now, so I’m blessed. But that shapes you on a subconscious level,” he adds. “It sets up your foundation to be ready for the next thing to happen. In a way, the next thing that happens is an end of something, so I think my subconscious has always thought about the finality of things. That’s probably where that sort of writing interest has come from. In a way, every single song I’ve ever written is about that. I don’t really know how to move away from that.”

Hopping on a Zoom call, Ware spoke with BGS about the afterlife, how the album grew, and the varied creative fulfillment compared to heavy metal music.

Does writing around a title help you stay focused on what you want the album to be?

Rapt: I think so. I’ve definitely done this where I write that phrase and put it up around wherever I’m living. Even if I’m not listening to music, I’ll walk past the album title a few times a day. The edge of my wardrobe is visible and the title I’m responding to now is written on it. One of the last things I look at at night and one of the first things I wake up to in the morning is… I don’t want to reveal it.

[Until the Light Takes Us] is not a breakup record by any means. I’ve noticed a few bits of press here and there, which may have lent it to being that, but it absolutely isn’t that. I feel like a completely different person to my music. I don’t relate to my own music. I would say it’s an album of endings, really. More so than a sort of breakup album. By the time I’ve finished one thing, something else is usually well on its way. And it’s always been like that for me.

What is your feeling about the afterlife?

I tried to look into religions a few years ago, but I have no faith system. I was brought up in a house without a faith system. It’s very hard for someone to start to believe in something unless it was in their very formative years from a caregiver. I expressed it in the title track. I’ve always thought that the afterlife is a sort of peaceful black. I have a sneaky suspicion that the afterlife is a hell of a lot like what it was like before we were born. I quite like to imagine this sort of sizzle reel, where you hang out with your highlights. That’s what I hope is going on.

Science doesn’t ask, science doesn’t answer everything. There are things that science gets pretty fucking close. But there are things that science can’t touch. I try and be mindful of that; I would call myself an agnostic. I think being 100 percent atheist is actually ignorant. We don’t know – we’re 99.9 percent sure. There’s just that 0.1 percent that I think is worth thinking about sometimes.

That’s touched on in the title track. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know that I’ll see my neighbor and my loved ones. I like to think that there’s a highlight reel. And that’s it, really. I’m talking about this as if I planned to write it. I didn’t. It’s the only successful time I’ve ever managed to just write something without thinking about it and letting my subconscious go. I cannot just open my subconscious.

I find lyric writing takes me months. The title track probably took a year to write. Very occasionally, I can get half a song written in an afternoon, but that happens about once every three years. The song “Until the Light Takes Us” is quite insular, and it’s almost says everything that you could say within a song about the afterlife.

“Until the Light Takes Us” is one of the seven-minute songs on the album. Did you have that intention or did it sort of grow by itself?

I just think I couldn’t make it any shorter. I don’t think I really tried to fight it being seven minutes, but I’m sure that there’s been a longer version of it. I just whittled it down and down, until I couldn’t whittle it down without doing it disservice. And I knew it would suffer for that. I just think that song is destined to be heard when it’s needed.

With endings, there’s always grief. Does that grief still linger with you or has songwriting helped you exorcise that?

That’s hard to answer for me, because I don’t recognize the human that wrote a lot of the songs. I think it might be an epilepsy thing. The medication I take for epilepsy gives me very odd memory and I remember weird little things. I have no memory of so much of my life, and I mean that in the present, as well. The word “remember,” if I really think about that, it’s just like a blur of things. I don’t remember things vividly.

One big thing for me is I cannot paint images in my head. If I shut my eyes and try and picture my best friend’s facial features or a partner’s facial features, or even a fucking apple, at best it’s a Van Gogh-looking painting, so I think it’s quite hard for me to answer that question.

I’m sure it does happen on a subconscious level. I’m sure I do successfully process things through creativity, but it doesn’t help that much. I’ve still got my shit in my head, but a lot of the record is very positive for me. I had depression up until my mid-twenties. I don’t have it anymore. I just don’t. I think life is a beautiful thing. And I think there’s a lot of positive in the record. I think it’s a very odd record in that it’s not… I don’t think it’s depressing and negative. “Until the Light Takes Us” is a positive song. It starts and ends with a letter to myself.

That song is about growing apart from someone because you bonded with them through a shared depression and when one of you isn’t depressed anymore, that bond breaks. That’s what that song is about. But all of this is hindsight. I wrote this in 2022 to 2023. So this all feels very considered and fucking artistic and it’s not. I’m just looking back and trying to work out what the fuck was I was thinking.

Now that you’ve been sitting with the album for a while, what is your takeaway from the creative process?

I guess, just to trust my instincts. I didn’t write it consciously… I think, in a way, I never cared about this record, because I had a lot of stuff going on in my personal life. This was just me keeping the engine going creatively, and then I turned around one day and had a record done. I didn’t know what it was about at the time. I sat on it for a year until I was ready to release it. My biggest takeaway is probably just I don’t fucking care anymore. Just don’t overthink it. If I had to give a tagline to that question: I’m too old to make it as a fucking fresh-faced person and I’m too young to be wise.

I’m right in the middle and when you’re stuck in the middle, you either quit or you just don’t care anymore. And I think I’m in the “don’t care anymore” phase. I’m not going anywhere. The only other takeaway is that I’m not going to do an album for a while. I never thought I’d say that, but I’m going to just do singles for the next two years. I say that, but I’m excited. It feels liberating. When you’re in album land, you’re there at least a year and a half. It’s interesting. I think that might change my writing a bit because I’m not trying to fit a song into a collection of songs.

With your past work being metal, how does the creative fulfillment differ from your current style?

I think metal is very good for connecting with people’s frustrations in life. And it’s good anger management shit. When you’re playing some real heavy fucking music and you slow it right down and you get a groove going, then you look up and the audience are like throwing each other around the room. There’s something cool about that. I think the biggest difference with metal is that the ceiling is a lot lower and reachable with metal. And I think there’s something really special about that.

My biggest thing I enjoy is my audience is far wider in this genre. Metal is very male-dominated and you get used to just looking up mostly at a room full of dudes, beards, and black shirts head banging long hair. And that’s great. That’s a beautiful thing. But I think I slightly prefer the more diverse crowd that I’ve played to. My last thing is also the age thing. There’s a huge age range in the people that turn up at the shows I play now. And that’s a really beautiful thing as well. In France, I had a very elderly lady come up to me and she said, “‘Fields of Juniper’ made me think about something I’ve not thought about in 50 years.” If there’s a reason to keep going, then that’s it.


Photo Credit: David Nix

WATCH: Rachel Gore, “Good Death”

Artist: Rachel Gore
Hometown: Wilmington, North Carolina
Song: “Good Death”
Album: Forgotten Woman of Folk
Release Date: August 11, 2023 (single); October 6, 2023 (EP)

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘Good Death’ in the midst of dealing with a lot of anxiety – specifically surrounding death. I feel like it’s a topic that’s not normally discussed openly, so I wanted to write a song that took that fear and made it into something really beautiful. I recorded the song with Americana artist and producer Sarah Peacock, who transformed it into something beyond what I could have ever imagined.

“Much of ‘Good Death’ and the upcoming EP surrounds spirituality and Southern upbringing, so I knew for the video that I wanted to find some really beautiful old churches in the country. I brought this idea to the director, Corbin Eaton, who just blew it out of the water. We spent a day roaming around rural Tennessee finding the most incredible historical chapels, and we even got invited to record inside the last one we were filming. I’m so thrilled to share this song with the world, and I hope there are people who feel like ‘Good Death’ is exactly what they’ve needed to hear.” – Rachel Gore


Photo Credit: Corbin Eaton

LISTEN: CJ Garton, “I’m Talking to Ghosts”

Artist: CJ Garton
Hometown: Bristow, Oklahoma
Song: “I’m Talking to Ghosts”
Album: Tales of the Ole West and Other Libations to Please the Palate
Label: G-Bar Records/Cowboy Carnival Publishing
Release Date: September 16, 2021 (vinyl); January 14, 2022 (digital album)

In Their Words: “‘I’m Talking To Ghosts’ is one of those kind of songs you hear and you just feel it. It leans on that edge of life and death and the unknowing of what lies beyond. It’s fascinating how much we still don’t know or understand, it peaks our curiosity and invites our imagination to play in that realm even for just a few minutes as it carries us deep into the catacombs of our subconscious.” — CJ Garton


Photo credit: Ty King/G-Bar Films

WATCH: Chris Coole, “My Name Is Lie”

Artist: Chris Coole
Hometown: Toronto, Ontario
Song: “My Name Is Lie”
Release Date: August 13, 2021

In Their Words: “I guess this song is a banjo-y meditation on the post-truth era we seem so hopelessly bogged down in. It’s sung from the perspective of the lie itself. I was inspired by the Dock Boggs song, ‘A Conversation With Death’ or ‘O Death,’ where death is given a voice. So, if a lie could talk, ‘My Name Is Lie’ is what I imagine it might be saying in today’s world. I’m not sure how obvious it is, but the last two verses deal with the Pandora’s box that is social media and how it has allowed lies to access ‘light speed’ so to speak.” — Chris Coole


Photo credit: Tyler Knight

LISTEN: Reid Zoé, “When I Go”

Artist: Reid Zoé
Hometown: Toronto, Canada
Song: “When I Go”
Album: Shed My Skin
Release Date: May 14, 2021

In Their Words: “On the surface, ‘When I Go’ is a song about dying — but it’s really all of the questions that come with being a human on this earth. It’s the acceptance that we don’t know everything, and that that’s okay. We are part of everything. It’s about the joy that can come with the realization that ‘nothing really matters. It was written during a time of really potent growth, and I hope it’s as healing for the listener as it has been for me.” — Reid Zoé


Photo credit: Andy Ince

LISTEN: Bridget Rian, “Trailer Park Cemetery”

Artist: Bridget Rian
Hometown: Long Island, New York; currently residing in Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Trailer Park Cemetery”
Album: Talking to Ghosts (EP)
Release Date: July 9, 2021

In Their Words: “While driving through rural Florida on a road trip, I saw the trailer park cemetery that inspired this song. Something about how death was so close to the living was fascinating to me. At the time I was also reading a book that mentioned kids meeting in a cemetery to party and it reminded me of my reckless teenage years. ‘Trailer Park Cemetery’ is much more a commentary on life than it is death. It’s about how I want to be close to the living and don’t want to miss out on opportunities, even in death. I think I have this fear of being forgotten, of not making a difference with my life, and this song was a way to kind of express that.” — Bridget Rian


Photo credit: Libby Danforth

After Nearly Dying, John Anderson Adds ‘Years’ to His Life

Over the past few years, country crooner John Anderson’s inimitable voice escaped him after suffering health issues and brushes with death. Through the creation of his new album, Years, he found it again.

In the album’s opening song, he opines, “There were people placing bets that I’d be dead and gone/But I’m still hanging on.” Although he does not disclose details, he does concede that the illness affected his hearing and, in his words, “I had nearly died a couple of times.” Listening through the album produced by Dan Auerbach and David Ferguson, it is clear that now Anderson is doing more than just hanging on; he’s creatively thriving. He tells BGS what it was like getting back in the studio, how he’s spending his time amidst the pandemic, and his feelings about making music these days.

BGS: Tell me a little bit about how Dan Auerbach came into your life.

Anderson: Actually we were introduced through a mutual friend by the name of Jeremy Tepper. He does a lot of work for Sirius/XM Radio. We’ve been friends a long time and he called me one morning and said, “I was with this guy the other day and we were talking about you and I would really like you to get together.” I said, “Well sure, I’m really not doing much these days.”

He asked if he could give Dan my number and I said, “By all means, give it to him!” The next day or so I got a call from Dan and we ended up setting up a meeting to get together and talk. Originally mainly just to talk about writing some songs together. At the time he was busy producing some other acts. I thought they might need some material and I thought I might help them write some.

What was your writing process like for this record? I’ve read you had some surprise co-creators on this one. What was that like?

We did. It was great. Looking back, I have to thank Dan and Dave Ferguson (aka Fergie). They were both involved in setting up the writing appointments. As it turned out, I got to write not only with some heroes, but some great old friends. It was really a joy. Writing these songs was a real pleasure for me. And it was at a time when I really needed to do some writing and get some music out of me. I’d been sick for a couple of years and hadn’t been able to do much writing or performing. At this point, I was recovering and really wanting to get back into my music.

This was all really good for me as far as writing the songs. We wrote for a couple of days, then the recording part came up. I remember saying, “Boys, I don’t know. That’d be great, but I’m really not sure I can do it.” I think it was Fergie who said, “We think you can.” I looked at him real serious and said, “Really?” And they both nodded. There wasn’t a lot said. It was a pretty solemn time there. I remember saying, “Well, if I do it, I’m going to treat it like it is the last one I’ll ever do.” Just because I was in that frame of mind at the time, mostly due to physical health reasons.

What was the moment like when you stepped up to the mic for the first time?

For me, singing is really something I’ve, thank the Lord, never really had to think about it, when it is time to step up to the mic. I do spend a lot of time thinking about singing, mind you. Most of my life I’ve walked around humming a tune. And maybe humming it a different little way. But when it is time to go into the studio or when I step up to the mic, I’m kind of on autopilot. I’m mainly trying to deliver the song, whatever the song is.

That certainly comes across in your singing.

Well, thank you. I want it to be real, in every kind of way. I’ve been a real stickler for that through my career. Sometimes you pay a price for that and sometimes it doesn’t turn out as good as you thought. On the other hand, when it is all over you can be proud of doing your own thing.

When you had those songs together, what was the recording process like? Did you cut them all at once or piecemeal?

We went in like three or four days one week and then we took a little break. I don’t even think we took a week break. We cut Monday through Thursday it seems and then took the weekend off and showed back up Monday. We had about 20 songs to choose from that we’d written over the previous months. I’ll always recall that as a really good time in my life. It really helped me to heal up. Even to the point today, I almost forget I was ever sick.

That’s so great.

It’s a blessing, is was it is. It took a lot of praying to get it. And now I am, and have been, well enough long enough that now the music is back on autopilot. I just do it all the time.

There’s a heaviness on this record as it deals so pointedly with mortality. On the flip side, it explores the simple pleasures in life and these elements really balance the record. Can you tell us some of the simple pleasures you are finding in life in these strange times?

I kind of found them a bit earlier through the songs and doing this record in a time when yeah, I had nearly died a couple of times. So, mortality is certainly in some of these songs, as far as my influence on them. Now there again, I can’t take the credit for any single song on the record because we had a lot of great help writing them. But my influence is a lot about mortality and the part in the songs about being thankful. That was kind of where I was at the time.

And you know what? As far as the situation right now and playing shows. … That’s been probably the biggest part of my life ever outside of my family has been going and playing the music to the fans. That’s pretty much all I have dealt with for the last fifteen years. As I’ve not been actively in the recording business, my live shows are what mean the most to me. It is a little bit difficult not knowing if or when or how we’ll be playing again to crowds. That’s been on my mind.

On the other hand, I feel very blessed to still feel healthy and have a great outlook. I’m still trying to write and sing most every day and doing a lot of gardening work and doing a lot of fishing. Fishing and gardening is what I’ve been doing and trying to play with my grandchildren. You have to save up energy to go do that.

How did the collaboration with Blake Shelton come about?

Blake is an old friend. I was a fan of Blake’s when I first heard him and then come to find out, he’s told people I was one of his biggest inspirations. At the time, when we were recording this record, low and behold we got a call from Blake’s people asking if we’d be interested in going on tour with him. For me, I did have to cancel tours previously on account of my hearing was nearly gone at the time. I didn’t have a working band. I hadn’t been on the road in a while.

I told them I didn’t have all that together and they said it was just for a few songs a night and his band will back you up. I said, “Really? That’d be a real treat. That’s like chocolate cake.” So it did work out and about the time the tour worked out we were finishing some of the tracks on this record and I said, “I’d love it if Blake could come in and sing with me on this.” We asked him and he was very gracious and did. Not only that, he invited me on the tour the next year also. Blake Shelton is a true hero of mine at this point. The tour was called Heroes and Friends and he’ll always be one of my heroes.

Do you ever revisit your old records? With all you’ve been through, do you view those songs in a different light?

Oh, I do. And I have been lately. That’s part of what I’ve been doing in this solitary time. What’s really been going through my mind lately are some of the songs that I thought were just as good as anything that I had ever written but really nobody got to hear them. Maybe I have twenty of them. I’ve been thinking about going in. It’s strange that you’d mention old stuff, and I’m talking about even from the time I was a teenager. Just things that I might go in and work on. Mainly just to pull it together and have that piece of work together, those songs. I’m thinking about that lately.


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

LISTEN: Sam Rae, “Strangest Thing”

Artist: Sam Rae
Hometown: Charleston, South Carolina
Song: “Strangest Thing”
Album: Ten Thousand Years
Release Date: August 7, 2020

In Their Words: “The two words life and death live under the same roof, but if they were a texture or a rhythm they would be much different, both with their own groove. The content of this song sifts through my thoughts on life and death and present thought, which weave in and out of the record. ‘Strangest Thing’ is a gesture, like the tipping of one’s hat, prompting us to pull our eyes and minds out from behind the blindfold and remember what’s important.” — Sam Rae


Photo credit: Sophia Lou

LISTEN: Lynn Taylor, ‘If You’re Gone’

Artist: Lynn Taylor
Hometown: Nashville TN
Song: “If You’re Gone”
Album: Staggered
Release Date: February 9, 2018

In Their Words: “Three years ago, I got together with my friend Will Logsdon to write a song. I had a riff, and he had a beautiful melody line for a chorus. We tinkered with some lyrics — ‘I see your smile skipping across the water. I feel like a man with a bridge on fire’ — and a few throw away lines, but the song didn’t seem to have much direction. We filed it.

After Kim passed away, I revisited what Will and I had started. The lyrics pretty much wrote themselves, at that point … It’s a difficult song for me to listen to, but I’m very pleased with how it turned out.” — Lynn Taylor


Photo credit: Stacie Huckeba