Katie Tupper Is Finally Running Free

The Saskatoon-born artist’s debut album Greyhound captures a voice equally at home in reflection and expression.

By Izzy Kaz

Photo by Nathan Lau

Published on January 19, 2026

Katie Tupper spent most of her teenage years chasing a puck, not a spotlight. A competitive hockey player until the age of 18, she learned early about discipline, repetition, and trust. These lessons would later shape her approach to music.

Now, the singer-songwriter brings that same quiet focus to Greyhound, her long-awaited debut album, arriving January 24. Built on warmth, patience, and emotional clarity, the record captures an artist finally giving herself room to explore — and trust — her instincts.

Tupper speaks to RANGE fresh off a late night spent supporting friends onstage. “I was playing with BADBADNOTGOOD,” she says. “They were doing a charity show and asked me to play a couple of songs with them. It was chill.” The genre-blurring group have become close collaborators over the years. “They’re so great,” she adds. “You’d expect seven men in a band to be annoying, but they’re not at all.”

Greyhound marks a turning point for an artist who has spent years releasing EPs and one-off singles while quietly refining her voice and perspective. The album’s recent single, “Safe Ground,” offers a clear snapshot of where Tupper now stands — a soft, soul-forward track built on warmth and restraint, her voice carrying just enough rasp as she sings, “Whether you are lost or found, I’ll always be your safe ground.”

“I think that my mindset towards writing has changed,” she says. “Writing [Greyhound] felt like I finally had the space to write songs that aren’t just singles.”

That shift was shaped in part by her close working relationship with producers Justice Stern and Felix Fox. Rather than chasing immediacy, the trio focused on intention. “They cared so much about the intention behind the music,” Tupper explains. “They took the pressure off. If I even jokingly said, ‘I want to write a smash hit today,’ they’d be like, ‘Get that out of your head.’”

She contrasts the experience with earlier sessions spent jumping between collaborators. “Going from, you know, speed-dating one-offs — hoping to land a single, feeling pressure to nail it in four, six, eight hours — to just hanging out at one of our houses, spending months writing music… it was really, really, really nice.”

Long before Greyhound was finished, those instincts were already drawing attention online. On TikTok, Tupper regularly shares stripped-back performance clips and unfinished songs, letting listeners sit inside the process rather than the polished result. One such clip — teasing a yet-to-be-named track — has surpassed 100,000 views, with fans eager to hear what comes next. The response reflects a growing audience drawn not just to her voice, but to the patience and intimacy behind it.

Writing a full-length album also gave Tupper room to push beyond the “neo-soul” label often attached to her work. Tracks like “Right Hand Man” and “Desperate” experiment with faster tempos and rhythmic textures, pulling from UK garage and drum-and-bass influences while still maintaining an organic feel. “I feel like with ‘Right Hand Man’ and obviously ‘Desperate’ — just figuring out how those drums need to sound — that was a big thing,” she says. “We wanted this UK-garage, drum-and-bass chopped-loop vibe, but it still needed to feel a little organic. Now we have these faster songs, and they do need to feel just a tiny bit pop-y.”

While her vocal style nods toward classic R&B and soul, Tupper cites contemporary artists like Daniel Caesar, D’Angelo, and Norah Jones among her most formative influences. Those touchstones surface across Greyhound through jazzy keys, understated arrangements, and a vocal approach that prioritizes feeling over force.

Often compared to artists like Olivia Dean, Tupper excels at writing songs that feel emotionally precise without tipping into overexposure. Her lyrics frequently circle themes of love, self-awareness, and vulnerability — topics she approaches with both honesty and restraint. “I think I’ve been lucky to be in very, very healthy relationships my whole life,” she says. “My parents set such a good example of communication and independence that I always thought, ‘Oh, I’m a very healthy partner.’ Then, when I was put into a dynamic that wasn’t healthy… insane. My brain literally melted into itself.”

The experience forced a period of self-reflection. “I realized there were things I needed to work on. I’m conflict-avoidant and tend not to stand up for myself, because I hate hard conversations. I think so many people feel that way too — it’s a learned skill, figuring out how to navigate them.”

Though music has since replaced the rink, the habits Tupper built as a hockey player remain intact. The patience to practice without immediate reward. The discipline to trust a long game. The understanding that progress isn’t always loud.

As the album’s release approaches, Tupper enters a new phase — one defined less by momentum than by trust in her own voice. Greyhound captures that clarity, revealing an artist who knows where she’s headed and no longer feels the need to rush.