Some people write songs. Others live them first.

Hunter Benson is one of those rare artists whose music doesn’t just tell a story—it is the story. When you listen to one of his tracks, it’s not background noise or an easy playlist filler. It grabs you by the collar, sits you down, and says, “Let me tell you something real.”

But let’s rewind. Before the releases, the studio time, and the growing fanbase, there was a moment that split Hunter’s life in two. When he was just three years old, he and his father were struck by lightning. Tragically, his father didn’t survive. And while it’s hard to imagine anyone walking away from something like that, Hunter didn’t just survive it. He built a life of meaning around it.

His latest release, “Heaven’s Letter”, might be the most honest and vulnerable piece of music I’ve heard in a while. Released this past February, the song feels like a message in a bottle. It’s written not just about grief, but directly to it. It’s a slow-burning ballad that sits in your chest long after the last note fades. It carries all the weight of a child’s loss wrapped in the voice of a grown man still making sense of it. It’s not just a tribute to his father. It’s a moment of catharsis. The kind of song that makes you stop and check in with your own heart.

And what a voice to deliver it with. Hunter’s got that kind of voice that’s hard to describe but easy to recognize. A mix of gravel and gold. You might hear echoes of Chris Stapleton, Joe Cocker, maybe even a little Mark Lanegan, but it’s unmistakably his. It’s not perfect in the way auto-tune is perfect. It’s better than that. It’s human.

Before “Heaven’s Letter,” Benson gave us “Come and Gone” in October 2024 and “Seeking” in December. Two tracks that help round out the world he’s building. “Come and Gone” is a smoky, mournful country rock ballad that wrestles with impermanence. The people we lose. The time that slips past. The moments that haunt us. “Seeking,” on the other hand, leans into grit and resilience. It’s got more punch to it, more fire. There’s defiance in the chords and lyrics, but also that same undercurrent of searching. A theme that seems to define much of Hunter’s work.

What’s really interesting about his music is how it blends influences you wouldn’t always expect to hear together. He talks about being shaped by Alice in Chains and Mark Lanegan alongside Lynyrd Skynyrd and the dusty storytelling of Southern rock. Somehow, he pulls those threads together and weaves them into something that feels at once vintage and completely new. There’s grunge in the guitar tones. Twang in the melodies. And a whole lot of soul in the delivery.

When you meet Hunter—or even just listen to him speak—you realize pretty quickly that the guy towering over a mic with this heavy backstory is one of the most grounded, kind, and thoughtful people you’ll ever come across. He’s not trying to be a brand. He’s trying to be honest. That’s his whole thing. And it works.

With three singles out and an EP coming in late 2025, Benson is building something that feels bigger than just music. He’s carving space for real stories. His and yours and mine. Stories about what it means to lose someone and still find a way to move forward. About holding pain and hope in the same hand. About learning to live with the storm even after the lightning hits.

It’s not polished pop. It’s not manufactured sadness. It’s just one man who’s lived through hell and found a way to make something beautiful out of it. And honestly, that’s the kind of music the world needs more of.