Portland Phoenix: One of the new crop of emotionally dripping, hard-hitting dream-folk artists to come along the last few years, MARISSA NADLER has, along with artists like Jolie Holland, Liz Harris, and Sharon Van Etten, carved out some necessary new terrain among US folk scenes, infusing the craft with gothic sensibilities and irreverent existential hangups. It’s good fun. Nadler’s new record, July, reaffirms her place among this unique set, and seeing her perform its songs should be plenty memorable at Portsmouth Book and Bar, 9 pm; $10 at 40 Pleasant St. in Portsmouth, NH. 617.908.8277.
New Hampshire public radio:
On Sunday, March 9th, Marissa Nadler will be performing at the Portsmouth Book and Bar. Producer Zach Nugent spoke with Marissa and asked why her new album is called July, when her music is often described as dark, sparse, and even frosty.
Don’t call Marissa Nadler a folk musician. Her music is much more cinematic than that.
Take John Fahey, toss him in a blender with Patti Smith, whisk in some of the imagery found in dreams of the darker variety, slowly incorporate wistfully presented lyrics sung in the mezzo-soprano range, soak it all in a healthy dash of reverb, and you’re starting to scratch the surface of the brand of music Nadler is creating.
WHEN 9 p.m. Sunday, March 9
WHERE Book & Bar, 40 Pleasant St., Portsmouth
CONTACT 427-9197 orwww.bookandbar.com
Touring in support of her latest album, “July,” which came out Feb. 10 — her eighth album to date, Nadler will bag up her dark and dreamy tunes and travel north from the great state of Massachusetts for an appearance at the Portsmouth Book & Bar on Sunday, March 9.
SPOTLIGHT: Music. What is it good for? Why do you seek it? Why do you create it?
NADLER: A world without it wouldn’t be nearly as beautiful.
SPOTLIGHT: Music. Describe the sounds that you cook up.
NADLER: Atmospheric, subtle, heavy, dark, rooted in folk with shoegaze, country, and black metal infusions.
SPOTLIGHT: Your latest record is called “July.” Why? How do you feel about March? In particular New England style Marches — the weather, not the movement …
NADLER: The record documents one July to the next, and it was recorded in July. It couldn’t be further removed from a “summer” record. I like March in New England towards the end, when winter finally leaves us and the flowers begin to bloom.
SPOTLIGHT: What are you looking for a listener to take with them when they experience one of your records or your live show?
NADLER: Seeing music live is always more imperfect and more personal. There’s nothing polished. I think it can be more emotionally resonant to see a musician in the flesh.
SPOTLIGHT: When you walk into a bookstore that has a bar what’s the first thing you do? Crack a book, or hoist a pint?
NADLER: I don’t drink anymore. So it’s going to have to be a book!
SPOTLIGHT: What can fans expect when they come out to see you at the Portsmouth Book & Bar on March 9?
NADLER: Well, I don’t believe I’ve ever played in New Hampshire! Maybe once …; so I’m really not sure what to expect from people! I will be joined by cellist Janel Leppin, who will also play synth and sing some of the harmony vocals that are so prevalent on “July.”
Interview with band: http://www.seacoastonline.com/articles/20140227-ENTERTAIN-402270352
One of my favorite musicians will be performing at book and bar, a one year old shop that i co-own. Amazing vocals and songwriting.
Pitchfork recently reviewed her latest album:
The question of whether Marissa Nadler‘s elegant folk music ought to soundtrack our dreams or haunt our nightmares has been a thread through her uncannily cohesive catalogue. With six albums in 10 years and never a misstep, Nadler has grown her own perceptive language—she’s an old-soul lost in time like Sibylle Baier, but her music is blackened and more literary. Her songs have come steeped in misery and macabre, cobwebs and ashes, but Nadler is not a doomy aesthete merely for gloom’s sake. She is devoted to Leonard Cohen and Joni Mitchell, and her music understands folk tradition. While her songs sound isolated and spiritually vintage, as if beamed from the grayscale interior of a Victorian home, her stories have been generous, selfless tales, heavy with metaphor and imagery. Nadler’s poetic temperament and steady grace point to a darkness within us all—though her singing always seems to hone on mortality not for the purpose of crushing, existential missives, but in order to protect us.