Josie Langhorst: Diary of a Minnesota Musician, Chapter 7
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.
Josie and Amri
February to mid-March 2026
This month brought a new perspective to Josie Langhorst’s journey as longtime friend, collaborator, and now roommate Amri Gilbertson joined our discussion.
Just over seven months into moving to the Twin Cities and Josie Langhorst is no longer just passing through, though she’s not fully settled either. This chapter lives in that middle space where things are still forming, but starting to finally take shape. If Chapter 6 was about arrival, this one is about learning how to exist here.
A Shift in Perspective
But first, Josie stepped away from it with a planned trip to Ireland. It became something more than just a getaway with a group of friends, it was a reset and added some reminders of who you are when no one is watching.
From Dublin pubs, train rides through open countryside, wandering through Galway, and standing at the Cliffs of Moher, there were slivers of music. She witnessed pub bands of 19 members spilling into crowded rooms, street performers fading into foot traffic, and an open mic she considered but ultimately passed on. But the most important part wasn’t what she heard, it was how she felt.
“I feel like I was more inclined to just dance and be myself. It might’ve been the fact that I didn’t know anybody over there and I wasn’t coming back. I’m not going to be embarrassed if I do a stupid dance move or look stupid, because nobody knows me. And I feel like maybe I’ll be more inclined now in the Twin Cities to just get out there and stop thinking about what people are thinking of me and just dance and be free,” Josie says.
Back in Minnesota, that sense of freedom meets a different kind of reality. Josie is starting to play more and meet more people. From the outside, it might look like she’s already found her place. But internally, it feels more complicated.
“There’s a difference,” she says, “between being a musician and being part of the community … and I feel like I’m still just in that musician stage.”
Right now, it’s still about the work itself like writing, practicing, and showing up to perform. As for the deeper layer, like relationships and becoming woven into something larger, she’s not forcing it. Community, after all, isn’t something you arrive at. It’s something you grow into.
Ask Josie about how her songwriting has changed since the move and she’ll tell you it hasn’t changed much. She still writes based on emotions and pulling from her own experiences. But her friend Amri Gilbertson can see that something has shifted during her first few months in the Twin Cities.
“It feels more friend-focused,” Amri said. “You’re venturing out, seeing what’s going on in your community, and you’re writing about that.” Not so much a dramatic reinvention, but a widening of the lens through which she views the world around her..
Amri and Josie have been making music together for years, long before the Twin Cities, before any sense of music as career. What started as a shared childhood of creativity and mischief—like sneaking into the church kitchen to steal sugar cubes as “power-ups”—has grown into something both more intentional and instinctual.
Their collaboration approach hasn’t shifted much since the move to the Cities. Josie’s bed continues to be the landing pad for creativity and songwriting. Oftentimes they’ll pass the phone back and forth, playing off and building on each other’s ideas. Songs are sparked by fragments with a melody here, a piano part there, until words slowly come in towards the end of the process. Amri admits that the storied past has lent itself to their songwriting.
“I feel like we’re on the same wavelength. We can sit down and she'll say something and I know exactly what she means. I can bounce off of her ideas and then she can bounce off of mine and it is a flow that just kind of happens. We can talk about what we went through growing up, which only us and our siblings can understand because we all experienced it together. I think that’s really helpful when playing music and writing songs.”
Amri also has noticed another change in Josie since the move, not necessarily in the music but how she carries herself. Back in Duluth it can be challenging to put yourself out there, she says. You know everybody in the community, and with that can come fear of judgement and what people are going to say. But now in the Twin Cities, Amri sees a much happier, more fearless side of Josie.
That doesn’t mean the nerves are gone. Josie still feels them, especially leading up to shows, and especially in those first moments on stage. “I’m stressed up until the point that I’m halfway through the first song,” she says.
Still, she’s out there with her own music now, sharing and promoting shows without fear. “Every time she tells me that she books a show, we both go ‘eek!’ and celebrate,” Amri says. On April 1st, Josie will open for Flutes & Low’s album release at Pilllar Forum, a connection that traces back to earlier shows in Duluth now resurfacing in a new city. Then, on April 10th, she returns to the same stage, this time opening for Lisa Curtis.
After booking that show, Josie looked her up on Spotify, only to realize she already had one of her songs saved. The line between fan and peer is slowly dissolving. “I was like… wait, this is crazy,” she says. “Now I get to open for her!”
From the outside, this chapter is about momentum. More shows. More visibility. More connection. But underneath that always runs something quieter: overthinking, doubt, and the constant internal negotiation of how to move forward in a space without clear rules. In no surprise to us now, after six interviews, Amri hits the nail on the head by stating that Josie is quite the overthinker.
As her roommate, Amri sees it as Josie struggling with the fact that being a musician doesn’t come with structure. There’s no clock to punch and no defined path to follow. There’s just the ongoing work of creating, reaching out, and showing up, and then trusting that it matters. You don’t often see that part of being an artist from the outside. But it’s a part that shapes everything else.
Stay tuned for chapter 8 in April!
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.
