Kevin Holm-Hudson could easily be writing glorious symphonies with his doctoral degree in music composition, but when this classically trained Kentuckian isn’t teaching music theory at the University of Kentucky, he’s writing/performing/recording more accessible, more immediately heartfelt music in the acoustic folk/pop vein. And, quite frankly, we’re happy he meandered in that particular direction – and so are other prestigious critics. For example:
His ensemble work with Dr. Kevin Holm-Hudson and the Adjuncts received accolades right out of the gate when their first album, Message from the Margins (2021), received nominations for Album of the Year from the Lexington Music Awards, the Appalachian Arts & Entertainment (APPY) Awards, and the Nashville-based Josie Awards. Their second effort, The Trembling Air (2022), was also nominated for an APPY Award. So, this is my long-winded way of saying Holm-Hudson’s latest solo endeavor, Milkweed, is another award-worthy contender. Let’s hit the highlights:
Wait. Who does what?
Holm-Hudson lends lead vocals and plays almost everything, and he’s aided/abetted by The Adjuncts’ Toby Holm-Hudson, David Chapman, Jim Gleason, and Scot Kaeff. He’s also joined by friends Taylor McLellan on oboe, Allison Combs on horns, Seth Murphy on cello, and Tyler Turcotte on contrabass.
Facing the music (i.e., hitting those highlights).
Milkweed is inspired by world travel and exploration, and the very first track, “Tree Cathedral Morning,” with its immediate vocals and quick guitar strumming, implies a hasty but jubilant excursion. This wonderful endeavor with layered vocals takes some darker turns, but it mostly remains inside light, and more importantly, gratitude. Excellent opener, and I’m excited to dive deeper.
“Relativity No. 1,” strangely, and for a second, reminds me of They Might Be Giants with its very conversational singing voice; it’s clear, easy to discern, and tells a story against bouncy, acoustic instrumentation with hovering woodwind accompaniment.
“Paradoxes” is a little slow, perhaps a little sultry, and certainly a little country-western. There’s maybe a hint of Neil Young with Holm-Hudson’s near-falsetto vocal delivery. With wavering guitar chords, a piano perhaps pulled from an old saloon, and tight electric guitar accents, “Paradoxes” delivers weariness, but with a calm tenacity.
Track #6, “Star,” begins with cosmic, whooshing synth pads behind leathery acoustic guitar strumming. And with this new sonic palette, I’m immediately tuned in. With a big, spacey vocal delay, galactic, glazing strings, and a gentle, hopeful voice, “Star” sounds like something from The Flaming Lips’ more progressive rock offerings – and I AM LOVING IT. Excellent track, and my personal favorite.
Track #8, “The Season Spiral,” begins with an acoustic guitar arpeggio played somewhere in the meadow, but perhaps under a star-filled sky (represented by cosmic synth-string washes). This is a pleasantly aching track; something that acknowledges necessary change, but laments that which can never fully embrace it.
“Mountain” features nylon-sounding guitar chords fading in amongst chirping companions. Holm-Hudson’s humble, vulnerable voice finds itself cast amidst moments of big instrumentation, and then moments of calm – of meditation. And the choirs, currents, and occasional explosions fade back to the mossy softness from which they came.

Album closer “Milkweed Lullaby” is a happier, sun-baked finale; it glistens with acoustic guitar and a thinner, chiming organ. After the shifting and tumult, after the rains and the flood, there is forgiveness, acceptance, and often, renewal. “Milkweed Lullaby” is the music for endings given purpose by those who continue on – those granted just enough strength to do so.
But…is it actually good?
Folks, this is GRAND, and far better than anticipated. Sure, the organic folksy foundation is there, but there’s more; there’s something cosmic, playful, vulnerable, and mostly sure of itself permeating this sonically palpable collection. Milkweed is an album that exists beyond its stated categories – it’s something that reaches heights of feeling and awareness a simple categorization can’t hope to imply or encase. If you’re looking for something grand but never overstated – something present, both above and underfoot – you’ll LOVE Kevin Holm-Hudson’s Milkweed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to close my eyes and listen again. Highly recommended.
—-
BELOW: Listen to Kevin Holm-Hudson and check him out on Bandcamp, Spotify, and Facebook. Please support Kevin Holm-Hudson by visiting his website, and playing, downloading, and/or purchasing his music. And, as always, thank you for supporting real music.
(Want to have your music reviewed on The Ark of Music? Click HERE.)
