Bio + Press

Press inquiries can be directed to: [email protected]


Raised in South Carolina and Virginia, Woodward's music captures the slowness, the patience, and the poetry of the south, but it also manages to bring in elements of her life in Boston and New York, where she went to college and law school.  She cut her teeth in the folk scene in Boston and moved on to play in the anti-folk scene in New York City. After playing informally for a few years, she released her first album "Speck" in 2009. She has since toured in the US, Canada, and Europe and has released one live EP and a 2011 full length album, "It's a Good Life Honey If You Don't Grow Weary", released by Continental Records Services in Europe. 

In the summer of 2013 she began working on a new record (to be released in 2014) that ventures further into a fusion of indie rock and sparse Appalachian sounds, balancing interwoven themes while keeping an undercurrent of simplicity. Woodward is working with Scott Minor (Sparklehorse) on her upcoming release. She currently lives with her husband, comedian Michael Robinette, and her dog, Pan, in South Carolina. 

Festival Credits: 

Music in the Woods festival (SC), Blue Plum Festival (TN), Old Songs Festival (NY), Fall for Greenville (SC), and Artisphere (SC)

Film and Television credits:

Song "Secrets" placed on:
National Geographic ("Departures")
MTV ("My Life as Liz")
 Fox’s “So You Think You Can Dance"
Twilight Series documentary ("Twilight in Forks")
The Cartoon Network ("Mongo Wrestling Alliance")

Song "Speck" placed in:
"The Fat Boy Chronicles" 2010


"Woodward's banjo-driven folk songs slowly slink like fog down from the Appalachian mountains and hills of Virgina and wrap your soul in melancholy. Woodward's 2009 release, Speck, is full of subtle textures and well-matched harmonies that support interesting and well-written narratives." -My Old Kentucky Blog

"Woodward’s songs are like mountain music with an MFA. References to Tolstoy and Harper Lee slip into her dark-hued, old-timey tunes; however, she’s doesn’t sound liked an affected musical anthropologist appropriating native backwoods sounds. Although based out of New York City, Woodward grew up in Virginia and South Carolina so there is an easy naturalness to her rural porch music... Alexa Woodward impresses both in concert and on disc, making her someone for Americana connoisseurs to keep an eye on." -- Michael Berick, NO DEPRESSION

"There’s something totally disarming about the way Woodward sings, with a roundness to her voice that plainly bears the mark of a Southern upbringing. But unlike delicate chanteuse Gillian Welch’s sepia-toned obsession with a bygone era, you don’t get the sense that Woodward needs a vintage dress to create authenticity. She surrounds her voice with plucky banjo, singing saw and wistful mandolin, which give her songs a gothic quality, as on “Spoon,” a song with lyrics as cryptic as those of Joanna Newsom. But to Woodward’s credit, her music is nowhere near as indulgent. For all the spare arrangements and spacious melodies, it’s her voice that takes the stage." --EUGENE WEEKLY

"Comparisons abound. She’s been likened to singers such as Neko Case, Joanna Newsom, and Gillian Welch, placing Alexa Woodward in very good company. However, despite the temptation to draft countless other musical similes to describe Alexa Woodward’s playing, suffice it to say this one time lawyer is penning beautiful songs sublimely set to comfortable banjo playing and graceful vocals." 

"With banjo in hand and melodious pipes, Alexa transcends the framework of her songs and takes the listener into a world where only an experience storyteller can travel... a sophisticated songwriter who doesn’t sell her audience short. She gives listeners the opportunity to think while listening; to identify with her pain, loss, joy, suffering, and strength. You feel intimately aware of Alexa when the album is complete. A folk singer cannot ask for any more – an audience that is now one kindred spirit with the artist."

"Each of Alexa’s songs is structured and unfolds as if spirited by an old soul... Hers are the kind of cliché-less, sensible and immediately relatable words that sound as good advice or a great story spoken by a friend." -Dan D'Ippolito,

"Woodward is a banjo-playing folk maven!" - 

"While some may compare Alexa’s vocals to the likes of Neko Case, Joanna Newsom, and Gillian Welch, upon my first listen I heard something more like Judy Garland... Capturing another time and place, Alexa creates a haunting environment. Beautifully well-written, Alexa’s new album, Speck, is well worth the attention it has been receiving." --

"Speck... conjures images of rural families crowding round a crackly old radio to tap their feet and hum along." 

Album Review: "It's a Good Life, Honey, If You Don't Grow Weary" by Alexa Woodward Matthew Jackson, ITZ Magazine
Alexa Woodward’s melodic, easygoing music is the kind of thing that simmers in your ribcage, builds to your heart and then explodes into waves of warmth and aching sorrow (It’s like Stephen Moffat once wrote: “Sad is happy for deep people.”). It’s never not beautiful, but as you keep listening, it becomes extraordinary.

It’s a Good Life, Honey, If You Don’t Grow Weary, named for a pet phrase of Woodward’s great grandmother, has all the maturity that it should for a third album, but none of the pretentiousness that seems to come with being a rising folk sensation. 
Woodward’s songs have made their way into the soundtrack of Twilight in Forks, National Geographic's Departures, MTV's Life with Liz and promos for Adult Swim shows, but the music doesn’t feel affected by this wave of recognition. It’s genuine, confident and full of soul.

Most of that soul comes from Woodward’s voice. You can almost imagine her sharing a stage with Joan Baez or Joni Mitchell at some politically-tinged, flowery rally in the midst of the Summer of Love. The magic in Weary builds to a crescendo when Woodward and her backing vocalists take their voices up into the stratosphere of songs like “Darkest Days” and “Pillar of Salt.” The vocals swim along through the verses, and as the song builds they crash like swells of tide on rocks, and hearing it is a little like living this plane of existence just for a moment.

The result is an album that’s part folk, part bluegrass, part gospel, and all gorgeous. Experiencing Alexa Woodward is like plunging down into an imagined world where everything is green and wondrous and glistening with discovery. It’s a new place, and it needs further exploring.

Album Review: "It's a Good Life, Honey, If You Don't Grow Weary" by Alexa Woodward  Michael Berick, No Depression

I first heard Alexa Woodward in 2009 with her impressive album, Speck. The New York City-based Woodward makes spare, rustic music that feels drawn from her Southern roots (she grew up in Virginia and South Carolina).

Her latest offering It's A Good Life, Honey If You Don't Grow Weary (available online in February) is a joy to listen to. She does a terrific job of gently fleshing out her sound while retaining its delicate Americana feel. Woodward plays banjo and ukulele; however, her songs make use of vibephones, cello, washboard, percussions and even some electric instruments. An electric guitar, for instance, howls in the background of “Wolves” to compliment its title and its eerie tale.

Her music nicely balances old-timey and contemporary elements. Her songs, which are frequently relationship-based, mix images of the past and the present “All That Sugar” holds the line “and I bet you don’t have good sex/when your blood’s all full of gold,“ while in “Elephant,” she tells an ex-lover that “I hope Nina treats you right/that Copenhagen’s kind /that you sleep sound every night” among fanciful imagery of traveling over mountains and water.

Throughout the disc, Woodward displays a strong lyrical command. She begins “O Tornado” with “drive across the county line/Salinger and Andrew Wyeth/betwixt, between the time/where the frozen clocks are awful quiet” and doesn’t come across as a freshman lit major. “Pillar of Salt” similarly shows a deft poetic touch as she mixes biblical references and emotional revelations.

When Woodward harmonizes with frequent collaborator Linky Dickson, they suggest a more rural version of the Roches. Abigail Washburn and Gillian Welch also serve as touch points here; however, Woodward forges her own sound – something that’s modern and timeless, lilting and melancholic - during this thoroughly delightful disc. With her exquisitely crafted third effort, Woodward seems on poised for big things.
-Michael Berick, No Depression

ALBUM REVIEW: SPECK  A Gentle Urban Folk Explosion Pajiba Magazine
I might be the least qualified among us to review this album, for no reason other than folk music is a genre that has, for the most part, completely escaped me. And at it’s heart, that’s what Alexa Woodward’s first album, Speck, is. But at the same time, it’s a bit more than that. It’s a quiet, contemplative record full of lovely harmonies, soothing melodies and some really killer banjo work. And as a hardcore bluegrass fan, I loves me some banjo.

The New York City-based Woodward’s voice, a dulcet, versatile tool, is almost hypnotic. Her notes carry a beautiful timbre throughout the album, and while the album’s overall sound isn’t always terribly varied, her voice is really what you come for. Backed by numerous Austin musicians on some tracks, the combination of banjo, guitars, and singing saw (played by Guy Forsyth), the instrumentation is a gentle accompaniment to Woodward’s voice. They provide a sense of subtle, delicate atmosphere that serves as a perfect backdrop.

The album is an odd duck — it’s got some themes that should resonate with urban dwellers, but with country/folk music roots and influence. Thematically, it has moments of surprising grittiness, which serves as an unusual (in a good way) contrast for her lullaby-like sound.

As for the songs themselves, they’re startlingly sharp given the sweet-sounding voice. “Jimmy” is nothing short of a tale of urban woe. With an opening salvo of lyrics like “Jimmy was a wayward man / Laying in a white linen bed / Broke his back in a rooftop fall / Doing so much blow / He couldn’t see at all,” it quickly establishes itself as a genuine heartbreaker of a song. Her sumptuous voice continues to twist through incongruous themes, as it continues with “I wish I had known him when / He was still too young for sin / I’d have taken all his kindling / Kept it dry for burning.”

My personal favorite is, unsurprisingly, “Boston” (Woodward’s a fan of one-word titles, which I have a strange respect for). Lyrically, it’s a beautiful, cryptic piece of poetry, but I mainly love it for the second iteration of the chorus, when her voice really has a chance to soar (“On the bus to Boston / with the scarlet turning leaves / I resolved to make my bed / with my better history”). The only catch with Woodward’s album is that despite her excellent songwriting and captivating voice, her songs are similar in style and sound. But then again, folk singers don’t kill you with their variety. They kill you with their lyrics, and their heart and soul. Woodward’s got that in spades