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2017 SHOWS

Date Venue Location
January 1 Record Release at The Grey Eagle Asheville, NC
January 12 Appalachian Mountain Brewery Boone, NC
January 13 Pisgah Brewing Company with The Ragbirds Black Mountain, NC
January 24 Hotel Utah San Francisco, CA
February 12 Amos Southend Charlotte, NC
February 16 The Burger Bar with Redleg Husky Asheville, NC
February 17 Ecopolis at Appalachian State University Boone, NC
March 3 First Friday at Neighborhood Yoga Boone, NC
March 10 The Sun Music Hall Floyd VA
March 16 Boone Saloon with Saw Black Boone, NC
March 24 Asheville Music Hall with The Collection, WHYM Asheville, NC
March 25 Banff Film Festival Boone, NC
April 20 House Concert Harrisonburg VA
April 21 The Garage Charlottesvile VA
April 22 Bonefire Abingdon VA
April 23 Boone in Blossom Festival Butler TN
May 14 The Altamont Theatre with Whetherman Asheville, NC
May 20 Hagood Mill Pickens SC


"Singer songwriter Alexa Rose has all of the plaintive yodels and delicate-yet-smart lyrics to more than satisfy the folk-obsessed among us."

-Auntie Bellum Magazine

"Her songs are fresh, poetic, and heartfelt."


"Alexa Rose’s voice is a dream come true. It pivots from more traditional Americana sounds all the way to older tones, like folk tales from an ancient shore."

- Local Color, WNCW

North Carolina songstress Alexa Rose has been writing songs for nearly a decade now. The Virginia born folk singer was handed her first guitar at 13. She has since written buckets full of songs, releasing her debut album, “North,” at age 19, and sharing the stage with artists like Jessica Lea Mayfield, The Ragbirds, and The Whetherman. Influenced by artists like Lucinda Williams and Joni Mitchell, Rose has been called “a rising voice of the region,” marrying her traditional, rootsy sound with a distinct newness you can’t quite put your finger on. Now, at 23, she's released her sophomore album, “Low and Lonesome.” Written on a hand me down guitar from her mother, the title track is a toast to her heritage. Its anthemlike chorus haunts the listener like the feeling on the morning after a bout with a strong whiskey—a night which could imagine no better soundtrack than Rose and her siren-like voice, wearing paisley and her dusty Frye boots, serenading the everyman (and woman) in the corner of some roadside honky-tonk lagoon with a somberness evocative of Gillian Welch.


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