Cort Delano

Cort Delano

 Calgary, Alberta, CAN

Cort’s the real thing, an original. He performs roots songs in a roots style without anything to hide behind or lean on. He’s picking up where the revival left off.. "there's not a moment squandered. Delano heads straight for the heart.” Americana U.K. Michael Mee


!st Place WINNER -- South Country Fair Songwriting Competition 2010

Cort Delano raised in Claresholm Alberta, began traveling the world to seek his purpose in life, laboured in the oil-patch, the trades and attended college, but it wasn’t until he returned home and picked up his Father’s guitar, that had always been there, that he found his destiny. Cort Delano is a young Ian Tyson brought into the 21st century with a twist of Tom Russell. Like Ian Tyson And Tom Russell, I believe this is what Cort Delano is on this earth to do; What Tom calls “ The Minstrel Trade”.

"Maski-Pitoon - Broken Arm" Published in
Home and Away by House of Blue Skies.

Co-Produced Songwriting Workshop for the Calgary Folk Club Featuring Lennie Gallant. Oct 09

Calgary Folk Fest
Best Song For Alberta

2nd - Broken Arm - 2009
2nd - Jughound - 2007
3rd - Clamshell Mainstage - 2006

Opened and Shared Stages with John Wort Hannam,
Shane Yellowbird, Tom Jackson, The Divorcees, Steve Fox.


Solstice Cafe, Victoria BC
The Main on Main, Vancouver BC
The Calgary Folk Club, Calgary AB
Spedina Freehouse, Saskatoon SK
Lady of the Lake, Brandon MB
C.O.C.A. Showcase, Windsor ON
Cafe L’innocent, Riviere Du Loup QB
Five Points Lounge, Moncton NB
Gingers Tavern, Halifax NS
Churchill Arms, Charlottetown PEI
The Ship, St. Johns NL
Sunstroke Festival, Whitehorse YT

His engaging presence and ease on stage comes across natural, refreshing, like a summer breeze. The audience can just sink into his lively story telling performances.

The songs on his latest CD “Sad Sorry Ass Folk Singer” demonstrate the creative diversity from one man as a songwriter. From satirical to political, romantic to hard edged, get up n go to social observances. Cort has an ability to create songs from a cellular level, he digs deep, finds the soul of the song and creates the interpretation. “Patches” will bring you to tears. “Clamshell Mainstage”, a song about the South Country Fair, won 3rd place in the Calgary Folk Fest Songwriting Competition in 2006. While Jughound, a song about “oil country” placed 2nd in 2007 both in the Best Song for Alberta Category.

Do yourself a favor and pick up a copy of his latest CD, and over a cup of coffee listen to the music, read the lyrics and you too will think back to a time in the 60’s when the answer could be heard, “Blowin’ in the Wind”.


Calgary Drop-In Center 2008/09
Calgary Mustard Seed 2007/08
Cochrane Humane Society Gala 2008 ($32,000 raised)
Life Without Limits Gala 2008 ($100,000 raised)
Engineers without Borders 2008 ($2000 raised)
Joy of Life - Shoe in Fundraiser 2008


Aboriginal Dance Toupe, Red Deer 2007 "Youthful Innocence"


Pro Bull Riding, Stavely 2008
Robson Valley Music Fest 2008
Sasquatch Gathering 2008
Spruce Meadows North American Tournament 2008
C.O.C.A "Border City Rocks" 2007
Big Valley Jamboree 2007
Mountain View Music Fest 2007
Spruce Meadows Christmas Market 06&07
Cowboy Poetry Gathering Pincher Creek 2007
Stavely PBR 2007
South Country Fair 2005


Yukon, Tour June 2008
Cross Canada Atlantic Tour Sept-Nov. 2007
West Coast and Vancouver Island Tour. Feb 2007
Trillium Treason Tour (A.B. round-up) Sept. 2006
West Cost tour Vanvouver- L.A. January 06
East Coast tour Chicago - N.Y.C. - Toronto July 06


C.B.C. ”Key Of A” w/ Katherine Duncan April 5 2008
CKUA w/ David Ward March 24 2008
Indielove (Toronto) Nov 2. 07
The Coast 89.7 (N.S.) w/ Jason Macdonald
Kitchen Radio. w/ Jason Valleau April 18. 07
CJSR: "Melodies in Mind" w/ Ryan Fletcher 02.13.07


"At an afternoon show in downtown Calgary's Cathedral Church of the Redeemer Cort Delano a varied crowd, ages 20-80, clapping, singing along and dancing in their seats. As much as you can dance in a pew anyway." Spencer Brown, Marketing Director, Calgary Pro Arts Society.

"Can't Wait to Have him Back!!" Alexander Choriatis Redstone Grill

"fantastic f**king set!" Ian Glen Kinney, That Empty Space U of Calgary

"He is like Bob Dylan with an edge!" Arts Touring Alliance of Alberta, Showcase Panel

"Listening to Delano’s songs is an experience akin to watching a small sliver of a stream as it tumbles and winds down a mountain, gaining strength, volume and briskness, fresh to the taste."
Janelle Hardy---What's Up Yukon!

"He moves between genres and styles with consummate ease. there's not a moment squandered. Delano heads straight for the heart.”
Americana U.K., Michael Mee

“The highest of all though is the energy and thrill of his live performances.”
Shayne Aiechele . BeatRoute Magazine.

"You're just involved in a completely different reality ... Delan


Tucked Away (the love letter)

Written By: Cort Delano

(one Man's Forbidden love for his brothers wife)

I think I'll write a love letter that I will never send
I'll write about how I feel and what I do protect
I'll write about your laugh and the way you make me smile
Every time I look at you and every time I say good bye.

You’re strong like the roots of an Oak tree, Soft as its falling leaves
Free as the Robin in its bows sweetly singing
Brave as the light which has journeyed from a star
A standing pillar of light now before me in my arms

I’ll fold it up and tuck it away, save it for a long lost rainy day
I’ll fold it up and tuck it away, seal how I feel today
I’ll write about my secrets and the pattern of your stride
Every time I look at you and every time I say good bye

Like the seasons you move on quickly riding like a star off into the dawn
But like an empty nest here I’ll stay twigs and shells all broken
As you slip from my covers, your heart offering body
Behind the hem I keep the letter and remain in your history


How could I untie the string of lies I’ve lead you to believe
I would just tuck ‘em away thinkin’ nothin’ would come of thee
My lips are cracked, my throat is dry, my tongue is tangled on the thought
How could I let my brothers wife steel away my heart.


At the Gates

Written By: Cort Delano

(An interpretation of an incident occurring on March 3 2005 resulting in the death of 5 People; 4 of which were RCMP officers from Mayerthorpe division.)

Come motheres and you Fathers I have a story for you to hear
Your sons and your daughters if you cherish them dear
Then let them go far away from hear

Cause these hills can make you crazy, their split tongues whispering
That you are in gods country and a keeper it’s needing
At the gates to ensure the gold and silver remains.

Gunfire broke morning like thunder,
blood on the ground, 4th one down
2 more to go and the Scarlets won’t show
their face around here no more.
Bullets cut morning like lightning,
striking down those all around
Silence followed the lives swallowed……

A man stole away, into these hills he did run.
Trying to escape from something, from some skeleton
And tied to her tongue he became forgotten.

The hills began to grow to all those around
If evil is in our home, into chains he must be bound
Or else our sons and daughters he may put underground.


All of the people saw the signs of words once spoken
The laws that have been made by one man will not be broken
So they sent their sons armed to solve this problem.

And Like hungry howlin’ hounds they’re hot on the trail of a fox scent
With gnawing jaws closing ground all around the fox den,
But No one to say the hunter has become prey.


Hell bent out of the wild to this day he came
Armed with his pistols and a vengeance unforeseen
If they cross the gate line, they will cross me for the last time……

Written Sept.2006 calgary/reddeer

Sad Sorry-Ass Folk Singer

Written By: Cort Delano

(An Autobiographical account of getting outside my blues)

Well I pour a bowl of cornflakes forgetting I have no milk
And I open a can a tuna but I’ve not got no bread
So I turn on bureaucracy and I point my finger
Cause I’m just a sad sorry ass folk singer

I plugged myself into the system and I tried my luck
But I found I could have pulled my college diploma from a cereal box
While hunched over my ball point pen and paper
I write from a point of view of a sad sorry ass folk singer

I write the most honorable talk on without saying a thing
While the premier has gone home with his belly full of drink
So CRACK a window please would you Mr. Speaker
Shouts from the back row a sad sorry ass folk singer

I take my gains and losses station to station
Willing to share my songs, my life with millions
I used to have the speed and greed of a hockey player
But I’ve slowed down to a sad sorry ass folk singer

And I made a few new friends this round going town to town
And a few more enemies playing to bars with no crowds
While glancing up to check my rearview mirror
I think about the next stop for a sad sorry ass folk singer

I could put my nose to the grind, wine and dine but then again I figure
It’s just as easy to be a sad sorry ass folk singer.
It’s just as easy to be a sad sorry aaaasssss folk singer

Clamshell Mainstage

Written By: Cort Delano

I met good friends, old friends, I even met the best of friends
Camping down at the South Country Fair.
I tell ya there ain’t any other better way to spend the weekend
Even though it rained till there were puddles in the puddles
People came out to watch John Wort Hannam
Sing songs about long grass and the Blairmore blaze
By the afternoon there were bits of blue, clouds parted and the sun shone through
Like fruit fly’s, people came out of the wood work

I poured a Karl Marx drink, talked about ways
To improve a migraine society
Gypsies, red-necks, hippies and old-timers
Sat around the campfire
Singing songs and carrying on, without a fight

I met first timers, old timers even met pirates
Pitchin their tents at the South Country Fair, I tell ya there ain’t anything more interesting
Than listening to pirates complain about mosquitoes, watching old timers kick up their heels while the first timers brought something new to the table
By sundown people gathered round, the clamshell main stage looking for a part,
After all we all are here for one reason

On the Ground

Written By: Cort Delano

I can taste the grit in the moments up ahead
Where there’ll be a dust flying up above my head
But, Jesus Christ Almighty if you can hear me know
See that I land with my 2 feet on the ground

For as long as I can I will play the cards I’m dealt
And get onto this volcano ready to erupt-kick and buck-.
But, Lord Jesus Christ Almighty if you can hear me now
See that I land with my 2 feet on the ground

I’ve come a long, long way for 8 seconds in a day
And I want each one to be frothy, sick and mean
But, Lord Jesus Christ Almighty if you can hear me now
See that I land with my 2 feet on the ground

I don’t complain or ask for too much
I don’t want a silver spoon or to lean upon a crutch
I ain’t one to preach or pray in a church
But I’ve seen the holy land, made up from dirt

And It’s Down with one hand gripping hells flames
With the other outstretched to the sky in open praise
But Lord Jesus Christ Almighty if you can hear me now.
See that you make up my bed if I don’t rise up off this ground.

Ballad of Jerry Potts

Written By: Cort Delano

Come gather round you folks that can
And I’ll sing you a song of a lawless land
Built on bloodshed whiskey and guns
Where and in it was born a man of two bloods

He learnt from the drunkards, hunters and stealers
The ruthless, toothless, killers and cheaters
The hustlers, wolfers and devious gamblers
Who would shoot you down over a handful of words.

He was just a needle followed by a thread
Worlds torn apart, together he would mend.

As an orphaned child in a Godforsaken land
He was found by a tender, kind hearted hand
Who taught him how to read the language spoken
And the laws that were made to be broken.

He was the youngest kid to be hired as a guide
And how to really use the gun at your side
Like the rest he drank whiskey liquor
Or Jamaican ginger, rot gut, red ink or perry davis pain killers.

A taught string he was steady, his aim was sharp
Like a needle he was ready and shot a man in the dark.

After he won this first duel
He looked to leave this land of fools
And went to live with his mother’s nation
Of Sundance visions, warriors, and cat skin medicine

He found a crow woman to call his wife
And kept to a Blackfoot way of life
His horse heard grew as did his story
Of dodging bullets and the death of his enemies.

Kept to himself a man of few words.
Like a needle through a blanket moving without being heard.

A new life encroached on the vast native land
For himself was a rule for everyman
Fire water fueled disappearing bands
Mothers clung to babies, while brothers killed each other
While defending themselves from the outstretched hand of the white man

Like a needle once again he passed through
The blanket that separates the old world from the new.

Surveyors mapped a medicine line
Followed by red coats dressed so fine
But they got real lost in a mighty bad way
Horses died and men were going astray,

So he sobered up and saddled up as a guide
Showed them red coats how to ride
Where to find food, water, shelter
Speak to the Indians and where to find whisky traders.

A line was drawn and one nation became two
But like a needle piercing fabric he kept passing through.

He knew the bison were becoming something of the past
And without something else his people wouldn’t last
The old ways of war were no longer
But talks of peace, he knew, might cure their hunger

Like a needle he was a guide. In treaty#7
messages apart together were woven.

Who would have guessed this man of short stature,
Almost a small as a 73 Winchester
Bull legs, buckskin moccasin, few words, whisky thirst,
Half white, crack shot, Indian
Half a country built upon his back,
Kept disaster contained under his hat
Acted as a judge and jury, diplomat, hangman
Calm like the breeze before the fury of a whirlwind

Maski-Pitoon - Broken Arm ? - 1869

Written By: Cort Delano


He’d seen the pale skin Heaven,
Of Philadelphia and Washington
Had Palliser’s men haul wood on their carts
To the prairies for burning

He told tales of spirit ways
To their chief President Jackson
He learnt the new magic,
Of white paper on black ink

He traveled with neither fire-stick nor arrow,
But the lightest of 5 things
Gratitude, Forgiveness, Peace, Truth
And the word of Manitou.

His eyes drew soft as a summer’s night
As war woops came upon him
But the Blackfoot raid came to a halt,
As he stood unarmed as a feather of peace

On the great hill of Wetaskiwin
Gathered chiefs of Blackfoot and Cree
On the hand of Broken Arm
The Warring tribes agreed on peace

As the stars are held to the sky,
Broken arm held to his oath
Gave a coat of his finest buckskin
To the killers of his father and son

The mightiest of men in Canada
Peels away on a roadside sign in Hobeema

He held the cross of the Anglican,
The Catholic Rosary
But like the hiss and the crackle of the pine in fire
Together they cannot agree

Sweet grass and arctic air
The undying sermon of the smooth-tongued stream
The colour of all eyes he saw
The Great Spirit move in all things

In his tiny body
There was room for all this to be
But in all the land between the oceans,
Is not enough for people to live free

The mightiest of men in Canada
Peels away on a roadside sign in Hobeema


LP "Sad Sorry-Ass Folk Singer" 2007
LP "Fools Moon" 2004 independent release.

Set List

from the album "Fools Moon"
Ana Ongo
Skipping Child
Beaver Tale
Shinny Game
Merchant Man
Dear Joanna
Open Road
Holes in my Shoes

SECOND ALBUM released in April
Sorry Ass Folk singer
Ballad of Jerry Potts
Tucked Away (the love letter)
Shot Down
On The Ground
At the Gates
Hobo's Lament
Gettin Down the Road
Clamshell Mainstage
Gone Fishin'
Where I knew (everyone in highschool)

Hunters Lost

The Weight
Chelsea Hotel #2 (Leonard Cohen)
Girl From The North Country
The House Of the Rising Sun
Early Morning Rain
Needle and The Damage Done
Navajo Rug
Like a Rolling Stone
Elderly woman behind the counter of a small town
Hide your love away
Church Of The Long Grass

A host of other cover/original songs Filling 3 sets of 45 min.