About That Song: Sadie Gustafson-Zook
About That Song #104
In our special series, singer-songwriter Sarah Morris interviews artists about the songs that shaped them.
Hi! I’m Sarah Morris. I’m wildly in love with songs and the people who write them. There have been a few songs in my life that have been total gamechangers—songs that made me want to be a songwriter and songs I’ve written that made me feel like I am a songwriter. About That Song is a space where I can learn more about those pivotal songs in other writers’ lives.
In the 104th edition of this series, I got to talk to Sadie Gustafson-Zook! A breathtaking singer-songwriter, Sadie just put out a new album and it’s fantastic. We chatted about important songs in her creative history as well as the Minneapolis music scene and the making of the new record.
Sadie Gustafson-Zook. Photo credit: Rutherford Photography.
Sarah: Hello, Sadie! I first encountered your music through an online course where we were both students. The teachers had music playing in the background while everyone Zoomed in, and it was a song of yours! I was blown away. Thought the whole class ought to pause so I could go and listen to it again, immediately. Since then, I’ve been fortunate enough to meet you in the real world, as you recently became someone-who-lives-in-Minnesota! Lucky us!
At the beginning of March, you released a new album, gorgeous in music and in spirit: The House on the Park. This feels like a perfect excuse to learn a bit more about you—your musical journey, and the songs that have made a difference to you. Do you remember the song you heard that made you want to be a songwriter? Tell us about that song.
Sadie: It’s hard to pin it down to just one song because I consumed a lot of music as a kid, but one song that has popped up in my memory recently was a song I sang in a children’s choir called “Are You A Loser?” It was a part of a Jesus-y musical called The Storytellin’ Man by Ken Medema. And what really stuck out to me about this song was the way the chords sounded sad and happy at the same time, and how the melody leaped around, and it all felt very emotional and lush for a third grader. I think the harmonies in this song were partially to blame for my subsequent obsession with music from the ’70s and those cheesy but so rich harmonies.
Sarah: Sometimes the harmonies are to blame! In the best way. I think I know what you mean by cheesy but so rich, and while I learned them from different sources, I love that sound still. Once you began writing, did you feel like a writer immediately? It took me a few years of writing before I believed it—was there a song that gave you that “a-HA! I AM a songwriter!” moment? Tell us about that song.
Sadie: Starting when I was six, I performed folk songs with my parents in their duo, and I remember during adolescence feeling much less excited to be singing cover songs with my parents. I also transitioned from being homeschooled to going to school for the first time, and socially, that was a big change and left me with a lot of material to write about. My first full song popped out in 5th grade after a particularly dramatic recess involving my crush, the concrete, and an ambulance. I went home and wrote the song in one sitting, and I think since then I’ve identified as a songwriter. I would add that since I started so young (or maybe because I was previously homeschooled), I had a lot of audacity, and I didn’t think twice about claiming the identity of a songwriter.
Sarah: Whoa—that IS a particularly dramatic recess, and incredibly songworthy. I love that you had such an early moment of clarity around feeling less excited singing someone else’s words—and that the identity of songwriter was a natural fit.
I first met you through your song “Maybe I Don’t Know” from your 2022 album Sin of Certainty. The melody sounded like free to me, and the lyrical repetition of “Maybe I don’t know what I want” felt like a truth I needed to sing along to. Can you tell us about that song?
Sadie: Sure! I wrote that song in 2020 in a hotel in New Orleans, the night before attending my first Folk Alliance conference. I had spent the previous year deconstructing everything I knew about relationships and identity, and I had been trying a lot of new experiences—dating women, exploring the idea of open relationships, trying out different gender expressions, using dating apps, and I kept surprising myself. Once I loosened my grip on the stories I had been telling about myself, I was left with deep confusion and immense possibility. It’s cool that the idea of feeling free comes through for you in the chorus, because that is what I was feeling at the time—just this immense buffet of identities and experiences that I could explore if I was okay with not being certain.
Sadie Gustafson-Zook. Photo credit: Rob Morgan.
Sarah: Ah, yeah—being ok with NOT being certain throws the doors and windows open wider, I think. Folk Alliance (in New Orleans, of all places!) would have offered energy and inspiration, I imagine, to bring that year of deconstructing to musical life.
Let’s talk about your most recent release, The House on the Park. Available on Bandcamp, you are “using songs to raise funds” for your Minneapolis neighbors. What a beautiful offering to your new city. Minneapolis is a musical city (I suppose most cities are in some way, but I’m a little biased). Is there a song out there that sounds like Minneapolis to you? If so, can you tell us about that song?
Sadie: Over the past year, I’ve met so many lovely musicians in the Twin Cities, and it’s hard to capture the musical vibe with just one song. But one person I’ve met, and had the pleasure of making music with, is Brian Tighe, of the band The Hang Ups. Me and Brian played in a garage band this summer with a handful of other songwriters, where we would bring new songs and then teach them to each other, trading off instruments, just for the fun of it! The songs of Brian’s that I’ve heard have a really specific vibe that, for whatever reason, feels like Minneapolis to me. It reminds me of the ’90s and Belle and Sebastian and Elliot Smith and British boy bands.
The specific song I’m thinking of, I don’t have the name of (other than the name of the voice memo, which is “Brian 7.25.25”). His chords are strummy and lush, and the harmonies are accessible but still surprising and interesting. The content is introspective and socially concerned, and a little dark, and sensitive, while not being sugary. And they’re bops!
Sarah: This list of descriptors makes me feel like Minneapolis sounds pretty awesome. (Also, hey, Brian! I hope you keep that title!)
Sadie: In the way that people have said the ’90s are alive in Portland, I feel like there are many aspects of the ’90s that are alive in Minneapolis (and the music scene specifically). The neighborhood coffee-shop scene with the poster-boards where you can find out about shows, people texting their friends with hand-made graphics to invite them to shows, the fact that I am in a literal garage band just for fun ... All of these images come to mind when I listen to Brian’s music.
Sarah: I’m so glad to hear that MPLS has shown up for you in this way. That garage band sounds amazingly fun. And fun … fun is a good, good thing.
“I almost thought the point was to all get together / in all kinds of weather and look out for each other”—the refrain in your song “Who’s Gonna Take Care of Me” appears three times, and roots more deeply with each repetition. Can you tell us about that song?
Sadie: Definitely! I started writing that song in the summer of 2025 when the Big Beautiful Bill was being passed. One of the things that had drawn me to Minneapolis was the robust medical assistance, and I had just started going through the process of getting insured when the bill passed. It corresponded with a few car issues and generally being tight on money, and it made me think about all of the things we do to try to make ourselves feel secure. The feeling of knowing a bill is paid and there’s still money in the bank; the pride in getting an oil change and having groceries and doing laundry and living somewhere you feel safe; all these little personal things that we do to try to make ourselves feel secure.
But when the systems are failing us, individual security gets harder and harder to con ourselves into. Watching how the community came out in June when ICE first came out to Lake Street (on a rainy day, no less) cemented my hunch that any real sense of safety is actually rooted in collectivity.
Sarah: Collectivity as security. Yes, please. You recorded the new album—was it in a friend’s living room?—on a single afternoon. According to the bio, you ate donuts from two iconic Minneapolis restaurants. This sounds like a perfect day. Can you tell us about THAT session?
Sadie: Yes—almost! We recorded in my friend Dex’s attic studio, but it was a very living room-like vibe! We met up at 11 am and ate scrap donut holes from Post-Modern Times for half an hour waiting for everyone to arrive, then we went into the attic and recorded for 5 hours! I was passionate about us sitting in a circle because I wanted it to feel really chill. We didn’t use headphones and did everything live (except for one song where we added some more ruckus vocals after the fact).
Since I was a teen, I have often arranged private versions of my songs on Garageband. I would record a bunch of vocal harmonies and add derpy little percussion and some strings. But it was a very solitary process. With these songs, it felt like an important opportunity to let other people help me. Because I’m relatively new to the city, I’m trying to be proactive about collaborating with other people. Since we recorded in February and everyone was feeling so much grief and also really looking for ways to help, it felt like a great time to make the album a bit more of a group project.
Sarah: You were leaning into the collectivity.
Sadie: Since I knew we had limited time in the studio, I wrote out arrangements in a Google Drive folder (mostly the lyrics with highlighted parts saying “harmonize the guitar part HERE”) and sent out demos a few weeks before. We met up the night before the session and hashed out some harmonies, and then, thanks to everyone’s incredibly good musical instincts, we were able to record all of the songs in 5 hours (plus 3 bonus songs)!
Sarah: That’s an incredible timeline. I imagine it felt thrilling to be a part of it.
Sadie: I am pretty relaxed (maybe too relaxed) in the studio, and it’s new for me to have a bunch of people in the room at the same time. So, given that it was all a grand experiment, I tried to lean into the magic of each take and not overthink things too much (also to keep the process moving). I think that translated well into relaxed-sounding live recordings!
Sarah: When I listen to the album, I hear joy, and togetherness—certainly things I associate with any sense of relaxation. Readers, I encourage you to bop over to Bandcamp immediately following your reading of this conversation and purchase The House on the Park. One last question for you, Sadie—are there any shows coming up in the Midwest where readers can come and see you sing any of these songs?
Sadie: Yes! I’ll be playing an opening set at Icehouse on May 6th, with Mo Reen and Michael Gay!
Sarah: That sounds like a spectacular bill, and Icehouse is a favorite over here. Thank you so much for stopping by About That Song, Sadie. Wishing you a fantastic Minneapolis spring!
Get your tickets to see Sadie Gustafson-Zook opening for Moe Reen along with Michael Gay at Icehouse in Minneapolis on Wednesday, May 6! Doors open for this seated (first come first served) show at 6pm, with music at 8pm.
Listen to “Who’s Gonna Take Care of Me”
The House on the Park Album Credits
released March 6, 2026
All songs by Sadie Gustafson-Zook
Sadie Gustafson-Zook (vocals, nylon string guitar)
Alec Watson (vocals, celesta, synth, tambourine)
Dex Wolf (vocals, percussion)
Hilary James (vocals, cello)
Jeremy Messersmith (vocals, tambourine, bass)
Rachel Ries (vocals, knitting)
Mixed by Dex Wolf at Dex’s studio in North Minneapolis
Mastered by Alec Ness
Design by Sadie Gustafson-Zook
Copyright Sadie Gustafson-Zook 2026
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah Morris. Photo credit: Tom Smouse.
Sarah Morris is a superfan of songs and the people who write them, and a believer that certain songs can change your life. A singer-songwriter / mama / bread maker / coffee drinker who recently released her fifth album of original material, she’s been known to joyfully sing with people in her Big Green Bathroom.
