THE FRONT ROW

“It feels like I’ve been carrying this album around with me for years,” Katy Hurt says with a breath of relief, just hours after being able to hold the vinyl version of her long-awaited debut record. “Now that it’s finally here, I can breathe again.”

Katy’s journey to this milestone has been anything but straightforward. The seeds of her debut album were sown back in 2019, after the surprise success of her EP Unfinished Business, recorded with producer Murray Pulver in Winnipeg. “That EP did so much better than I ever expected. But it came with a chaotic backstory—PledgeMusic went bankrupt after I’d crowdfunded the release, so I had to fund it myself and start again.”

Rather than let that experience deter her, Katy embraced a back-to-basics approach for her first full-length record. “I knew I wanted to do it old school—live in the room, full pre-production, no rush. I love that creative process. So we flew to Winnipeg on December 31st and started working on January 1st. I even quit my job. I needed to throw everything into it.”

The result? A two-month immersion in music, snow, and soul-searching. “We were in this musical snow globe—it was minus 30 degrees outside, and we’d just stay inside, write, play ping pong at night, and record all day. We narrowed it down to 13 songs—my lucky number.”

She laughs, explaining the recurring role of “13” in her life. “My birthday’s on the 31st, Taylor Swift’s one of my favourite artists, and those numbers keep coming up. It felt right.”

The recording process featured a band of trusted collaborators, with guest appearances from Joey Landreth and others, but always centered around Katy’s vision. “We were just in one room playing until we got it right. I didn’t want it pieced together—I wanted it to feel lived-in.”

Choosing which songs to include, though, was a brutal task. “There are songs we’ve been playing live for eight or nine years—‘Before The Ice Melts’ goes back to 2016. I knew some of them had to be on the record or the fans would form a mob,” she grins.

But it wasn’t just a fan-pleasing exercise. “I’ve always felt like a bit of a genre mutt. I grew up in the States singing traditional country, then moved here, joined a rock band at 18, and found my sound somewhere between southern rock, Americana, and soul. I was tempted to streamline it—to pick just the pop-country songs—but that wouldn’t have been honest.”

So who is the album for? “It’s for me. But also for anyone who’s ever had a dream. If you’re chasing something, this record’s for you.”

Authenticity comes up a lot in Katy’s story. “Some producers offered to just use their session bands and have me email in vocals. That’s not making an album—that’s them making one. Murray was the first person who asked, ‘What do you want these songs to sound like?’ That changed everything.”

Her commitment to honesty goes beyond genre lines. “I didn’t get into music to be a mega pop star—I got into it because I love the craft, and because I wanted to make music like the artists I admire.”

It hasn’t always been easy. “I’ve been told to be ‘better at content,’ to focus more on social media. But some days I’ll spend more time planning an Instagram post than playing my guitar, and I have to check myself. The music has to come first.”

Still, she acknowledges the value of digital tools. “Streaming has opened so many doors. Someone in Germany pre-ordered the album because they found me on Spotify. But we don’t get paid enough for streams to be sustainable. You need to find your tribe and build something lasting.”

And what of the UK’s relationship with country music? “When I first moved here from the States as a kid, I got bullied for my accent. I wore cowboy boots to school and got laughed at. Now, I can’t walk ten minutes without seeing someone in a cowboy hat. It’s surreal.”

Katy was there at the first ever Country 2 Country Festival. “To see how it’s grown—from Keith Urban and Lady A to now—it’s huge. And it’s not just US acts anymore. There’s still some stigma about UK country artists, which hurts, but we’re making progress.”

She’s especially excited by how genre boundaries are blurring. “You’ve got Beyoncé doing country. Post Malone. Artists like Tanner Adell and Shaboozey pushing boundaries. But that’s how it’s always been—Johnny Cash got kicked out of the Opry for being too rock ‘n’ roll. The outsiders become the icons.”

For Katy, country music isn’t stuck in the past. “It’s not just Dolly Parton anymore—though I love Dolly. It’s evolving, and UK audiences are finally getting that.”

So what keeps her going after years of setbacks—COVID cancellations, floods, lost representation, and constant questioning?

“Honestly, I think about giving up almost every day. But then I’ll put the record on, and I’m like—no, this is something special. I flew across the world with my best friend and made this with my dream producer. I have to put it out. And every time I step on stage, I remember—I’ve wanted to sing in front of people since I was four. That keeps me going.”

Her dream? “To play the Opry stage. That’s Everest for me. I grew up listening to WSM radio, and I remember doing the tourist recording booth at the Opry when I was a kid—it was everything. I’d also love to play Red Rocks. And just—make a living doing music. Tour. Make an album a year. Play to people who care.”

And why should people give her debut album a listen?

“Because I worked my ass off on it. Because it’s honest. Because there’s something in there for everyone. And because if you don’t, I’ll still be broke,” she laughs, before adding, more seriously, “If you love stories, if you love songs that mean something—this record’s for you.”

Album Review: Katy Hurt – Debut Album (Out 23.05.2025)
Produced by Murray Pulver | Recorded at Stereobus Recording and Signpost Music

When an artist spends nearly a decade teasing songs, surviving industry letdowns, and pushing through pandemic-era setbacks, the weight of expectation on their debut album can be unbearable. But for Katy Hurt, it’s less a weight and more a torch she’s chosen to carry. With her long-awaited full-length debut, she delivers something rare in today’s polished-to-death country landscape: a record built on lived-in stories, unshakable honesty, and damn good songwriting.

From the Opry dreams to the Winnipeg snowglobe

Recorded in the icy stillness of a Winnipeg winter, Hurt’s debut is both wide-eyed and world-weary — equal parts southern charm and British grit. Produced by the ever-dependable Murray Pulver and brought to life with a trusted band including Gab Zsapka, Paul Yee, Marc Arnould, and Stephen Broadhurst, the album doesn’t chase trends. Instead, it leans into timeless truths: heartbreak, self-worth, resilience, and the intoxicating chaos of love.

This isn’t Nashville’s plastic-perfect country. This is worn boots on hardwood floors. Smoke in the bar. Long drives to nowhere. And it suits her.

Opening with a mission statement

The album kicks off with “Dreamers,” a fitting curtain-raiser that captures the spirit of the record. Hurt sings for the ones who haven’t given up, with a vocal delivery that balances vulnerability and fire. You believe her — because she believes it. There’s a steel edge in the way she writes about hope. It’s not naive. It’s defiant.

The singles still sting

If you’ve been following Katy over the past few years, you’ll recognise several tracks that have already made waves — and they’ve only gotten better with age. “Seasons,” the album’s first official single, is a heartbreaker in disguise, full of layered harmonies and slow-burning soul. “Rather Be” crackles with bluesy swagger, offering one of her most powerful vocal performances yet.

Then there’s “Before The Ice Melts”, co-written with Gab Zsapka, it’s a masterclass in restraint, building from intimate confessions to a cinematic crescendo. You can hear every year she’s carried that song in the space between the lines.

New cuts that land hard

Among the new material, “All We Ever Have” emerges as a standout. Written in a stream-of-consciousness style that feels closer to a whispered prayer than a radio-ready chorus, it’s raw, minimalist, and utterly absorbing. “Feather” is another gut-punch — a brooding, sparse ballad where Hurt explores wounds that don’t heal cleanly. It’s quiet, but it leaves a mark.

Elsewhere, “Gimme a Break” offers a welcome burst of levity — a rollicking, blues-kissed stomp that begs to be played loud in a dive bar. It’s not just sonic filler; it shows off Hurt’s ability to balance the emotional weight of her ballads with moments of cathartic fun.

Genre-defiant but grounded in truth

One of the most refreshing things about this album is its refusal to fit neatly into a box. Hurt has long described herself as a “genre mutt,” and here she walks that talk. Tracks like “Sounds Good in a Bar” nod to honky-tonk tradition, while “What Have You Got To Lose” edges into blues territory with punchy guitars and layered harmonies.

There are moments of soul, blues, Americana, and even a touch of gospel. But it never feels disjointed. What holds it all together is the clarity of Hurt’s voice — not just vocally, but artistically. She knows who she is. She’s not apologising for it.

The production: human, not plastic

Murray Pulver’s production is warm and spacious, letting the songs breathe. This isn’t an album built on click tracks and auto-tune. You can hear the room. You can hear the tension in the strings. The musicianship is tight but never sterile — Paul Yee’s bass and Broadhurst’s drums lay down a solid foundation, while Arnould’s keys and Pulver’s guitar work add texture and depth without ever overshadowing the vocals.

There’s a particular intimacy in the way this album is mixed. You feel like you’re sitting in the corner of the studio, listening in. That’s intentional — and it’s magic.

The voice at the centre of it all

Ultimately, what elevates this record is Katy Hurt herself. Her voice is rich with character — capable of both hushed vulnerability and full-throttle defiance. She doesn’t just sing about heartbreak. She sings from it. She doesn’t just posture confidence — she earns it, line by line.

There’s no over-singing here. No unnecessary runs. Just a performer who understands the power of telling the truth, even when it hurts.

Verdict: One hell of a debut

This album isn’t chasing awards or playlists. It’s not trying to reinvent the wheel. It’s simply Katy Hurt, unfiltered and unafraid. And in a time where authenticity is often faked for clout, that makes this debut feel revolutionary.

For fans of Ashley McBryde, Brandi Carlile, or early Kacey Musgraves, Katy Hurt’s debut is essential listening. But more than that, it’s a promise kept — to her fans, to herself, and to the kid who stood on a chair listening to a Rascal Flatts concert thinking, “One day, I’ll be up there.”

She’s on her way.