Josie Langhorst: Diary of a Minnesota Musician, Chapter 11
This is a year-long series following Josie Langhorst, a Minnesota artist new to the Twin Cities, as she shares her experiences entering the scene and making music in a new environment.
July 2026
There are months in life that feel loud and overbearingly busy. Then there are the ones where almost nothing happens on the surface, yet everything underneath quietly rearranges itself.
When I first sat down to talk to Josie Langhorst nearly a year ago, she was arriving in Minneapolis with equal parts excitement and uncertainty. Every month since has documented another piece of that journey and learning that becoming part of a music scene is less about arriving than continually choosing to stay.
This month felt different but not because of a major performance or album release, but because, for the first time in a while, Josie sounded settled.
That doesn’t mean life has become easier.
She’s walked away from two big parts of her identity, her relationship and the band Moxen. Losing either one would leave anyone questioning themselves. Losing both at nearly the same time has a way of making you wonder what remains when the dust settles.
“I’ve broken up with my band and I’ve broken up with my girlfriend,” she says matter-of-factly. “Now what else is there?” After letting herself sit with that thought, another one followed. “No ... take a breath. You’re fine.” It wasn’t dismissing the hurt but recognizing that sometimes the hardest reset begins by realizing you have to start investing in yourself again. Maybe that’s why she let a friend spend two days bleaching, cutting and reinventing her hair.
The story itself is hilarious. An impulsive text asking her friend Lee Nielson to come over and “mess up my hair” somehow became a twelve-hour marathon involving Sally Beauty Supply, multiple rounds of bleach, a few distractions and enough DIY chemistry to make any hairstylist nervous. But underneath that comedy was something we can all relate to. Sometimes changing your appearance isn’t about the haircut. It can be about giving yourself approval to become someone new. As they say, when a door closes, a window opens.
One of the most fascinating parts of documenting Josie’s first year has been hearing her describe what kind of artist she hopes to become. Nearly a year ago, she admitted she didn’t want to be boxed into being simply an acoustic folk songwriter forever. At the time, she didn’t know what came next, only that she wanted the freedom to explore. That answer is beginning to finally reveal itself.
She admits that although she loved Moxen, it was never an endgame. Josie has leaned into something she’s done all year: becoming energized by collaboration. Rather than being the sole songwriter, she’s discovering how rewarding it can be to create alongside people she trusts. Working with Lee on their nascent group Parties w/ Strangers has become less about dividing responsibilities and more about multiplying ideas. That collaborative spirit may soon grow even larger.
“Moxen was so much fun, but it was never the style of music I would stay with forever. I think my voice would die. But I’m really liking the sound that Parties w/ Strangers is cultivating right now. And I think it helps a lot too when the songwriting and the lyric writing process is a group collaborative effort. I find a lot of the time in previous projects and bands, I’m just doing all of the songwriting and the lyrics.”
During a recent basement jam session, former Moxen bassist Jacob stopped by to play drums. By the end of the afternoon, conversations had already begun about inviting him into the new project. It’s a promising sign of new growth and potential.
Also, after months of searching, Josie has finally found a new place to live. In August she’ll move into an older duplex in St. Paul, filled with hardwood floors, stained glass windows and, perhaps most importantly, a breakfast nook that she’s already imagined transforming into her favorite corner of the house. Josie’s excited to switch out her surroundings. Listening to her describe it felt like hearing an artist envision another creative space she’ll someday fill with notebooks, keyboards and unfinished songs.
Every August, her family’s Hootenanny festival (which takes place Aug. 2 this year) reminds her where this musical journey began.
“So the church we went to is Salem Lutheran Church in Mahtowa, Minnesota. Right next door there’s an old school. They converted it into a building for the church to use and we raised a bunch of money and now people rent it out for grad parties and family events and all of that. Lenora’s aunt and uncle were in the band the Holy Hootenanners. Her uncle brought this giant cow trailer that was just for farming equipment. He would put a tent over it and that was the stage. My dad would run sound and then we’d have just a bunch of bands and people would come and my dad would roast this pig in the pork roaster. It’s changed to the Rugged Spruce, which is literally like two minutes away from the church.”
What started years ago as family gatherings centered around the Holy Hootenanners has evolved into a community tradition spanning generations. Parents, children, cousins, collaborators and at one point sixteen family members share the stage together. For someone spending the past year figuring out where she belongs in Minneapolis, returning to Mahtowa feels like nostalgia.
On Aug. 22 she’ll open for fellow Twin Cities artist anni xo, a performance that came together through Instagram messages. What began as a welcoming note shortly after Josie moved to Minneapolis eventually became an invitation to share a stage. It’s another reminder that communities often grow from the smallest interactions.
Perhaps the biggest surprise, though, arrived while talking about songwriting. For nearly a year, Josie has lived somewhere between indie folk and alternative rock. But recently she found herself inspired by artist Audrey Hobert, sat down at her computer, built a beat and began writing something she’d never really attempted before: a pop song.
“I feel like I’ve never been able to write a pop song before,” she laughed. There’s something wonderfully symbolic about that statement. Not because pop music is somehow better than folk music, but because it represents exploration. Exploration to ignore expectations. Exploration to write without worrying whether the result fits neatly into whatever version of “Josie Langhorst” people already have in their heads. Artists often spend years searching for their signature sound. Maybe the better goal is simply staying curious enough to keep discovering new ones.
Next month marks one full year since Josie packed up her life in Duluth and started over in the Twin Cities. When I ask if it finally feels like home, her answer comes quickly.
“It does.”
That simple response carried far more weight than it would have eleven months ago, as home can be a complicated place. Sometimes it’s the place where you’ve survived enough change that you finally recognize yourself again.
Stay tuned for our final chapter next month!
About the Author & Photographer
Tom Smouse. Photo Credit: Chris Taylor.
Tom Smouse is an innovative collaborator with 20 years of experience in the Minnesota music industry. As a professional photographer, podcaster, and music journalist, sharing stories from the community remains his core passion. When not at a show you can find him at a record store.
