Olive Klug’s Lost Dog is a folk odyssey for the restless and real, beautifully showcasing the nonconforming ethos at the heart of their art.
Olive Klug might describe themselves as someone “floating on the breeze,” but their sophomore album Lost Dog hits with the kind of impact that can land an artist in the hearts of a generation. Fresh off a DIY journey that's already earned them 20 million Spotify streams and a devoted online following, Klug’s latest release is a fearless, genre-bending folk album that wrestles with identity, chaos, and what it means to stay soft in a world that keeps asking you to harden.
Lost Dog, their label debut for Signature Sounds, is a courageous step for a songwriter who’s spent the past few years building something quietly powerful from the ground up - touring in a van, recording on their own terms, and letting the wind carry them from one open mic to the next. It’s the kind of backstory that feels romantic until you hear Klug’s razor-sharp lyrics peel back the curtain, revealing the complexities of love, loss, neurodivergence, and gender expression with devastating honesty and warmth.
“This record is about embracing adventure,” Klug says, “even when it leads you down messy roads.” That spirit is alive in every note, from the wistful intimacy of the title track to the swirling, word-rich metaphors of “Train Of Thought,” a standout written in Sisters, Oregon during a songwriting workshop Klug led themselves. Inspired by Paul Simon’s poetic chaos, the song is a kaleidoscope of emotion and identity.
Throughout the album, Klug dives into what they call “aging as a neurodivergent free spirit,” bringing humor, heartbreak, and hope to a journey often left out of mainstream narratives. There’s a realness here, but also a steady hand and a sense that Klug knows exactly where their voice belongs, even if they’re still figuring out the map. Folk, for Klug, is simply about the truth. On Lost Dog, that truth is elevated to something even more profound. It's not just a coming-of-age record, it’s a coming-to-terms one. A quiet revolution, strummed and sung with radical self-acceptance. Lost Dog isn’t about being found, it’s about being okay with sometimes being lost.