Song of the Day: “Peshtigo” by Chicago Farmer

Mar 24, 2026

Six years after the critically acclaimed Flyover Country, Cody Diekhoff—better known as Chicago Farmer—has returned with Homeaid. For those keeping score at home, this 2026 release marks a significant milestone: it is the first studio LP where Diekhoff officially hands the keys to his touring band, The Fieldnotes.

Historically, Chicago Farmer was the quintessential “guy with a guitar and a story,” a spiritual heir to Arlo Guthrie and John Prine who spent two decades proving that Americana is essentially just “unsuccessful country” with better lyrics. But on Homeaid, the solo troubadour evolution reaches its next form. By bringing in The Fieldnotes (and producer Chad Staehly), Diekhoff hasn’t just added a drum kit; he’s traded in the acoustic sedan for a full-sized Midwestern work truck. The record is thicker, louder, and carries the rugged, “first-take” energy of a band that has spent too many nights together in the back of a van.

Homeaid is the sound of a man realizing he doesn’t have to do the heavy lifting alone. The inclusion of songs like “The Twenty Dollar Bill”—a reprisal of an older fan favorite—serves as a clever wink to the long-time listeners, showing how much a simple story can grow when you add a Hammond organ and a rhythm section that actually knows where the “one” is. Homeaid is an album that understands the best place to create art is often right where you started, provided you bring enough friends along to help carry the gear.

On an album that often favors the “loud and proud” approach of the full band, “Peshtigo” is the song that justifies that approach. It chronicles the Great Peshtigo Fire of 1871—a tragedy that killed more people than the Great Chicago Fire but was largely ignored by the history books because, well, Chicago had a better publicist. Diekhoff treats the narrative with a somber, cinematic weight that prevents it from feeling like a dry history lecture and showcases Diekhoff’s sharpest writing, transforming a 150-year-old disaster into a haunting meditation on how quickly everything we build can turn to ash. The Fieldnotes show immense restraint here. Instead of trampling the story with volume, they provide a smoldering, mid-tempo backdrop that feels as thick and claustrophobic as the smoke in the lyrics while giving the track the necessary gravity to balance out the album’s more boisterous moments.