Gwenifer Raymond

During the last decade, Gwenifer Raymond has emerged as one of the world’s most exhilarating and intoxicating solo instrumentalists, approaching the acoustic guitar and banjo with the energy and depth of a sitar master and a front-porch picker. Raymond’s journey is an unexpected one: Hipped to the possibilities of guitar by Nirvana’s Nevermind, the Welsh preteen was intrigued by the haunted unease of their Unplugged Leadbelly cover. She pursued parallel musical paths, then, playing drums and guitar in a series of raucous rock bands while steeping herself in the songbooks and styles of the Delta blues and Appalachian old-time. Her punk gusto and technical acuity finally began to merge after she heard John Fahey and his acolytes—after she heard just how different the acoustic guitar could be.

Her third album, 2025’s Last Night I Heard the Dog Star Bark, is an astonishing piece of work, her instrumental skill turbocharged by the occult, radical politics, and surreal visions. She conjures an uncanny trance of drone and strums during “Banjo Players of Aleph One,” then slowly picks up speed during “Bonfire of the Billionaires,” the notes flying so fast they seem to jump like jubilant flames. The closer, “One Day You’ll Lie Here But Everything Will Have Changed,” is a beautiful prayer sent out in search of redemption. Raymond calls her music “Welsh Primitive,” a name that simply reinforces what she shares with her American kin—music as a way to celebrate, reckon with, and even mourn the world around her.