Marissa Nadler finds a storybook ending for her Chicago show

April 19, 2009, at Schubas

By Selena Fragassi
Published: April 22nd, 2009 | 4:50pm

There were certain moments at Marissa Nadler’s show that felt like the scene had been plucked from a movie, a mysterious foreign noir that used her calming vocals and soft guitar plucking to create a soundtrack for the empty room of strangers that had come in from the cold, wet streets. As she stood solo on the stage, devoid of anything but herself and her guitar, her songs of romance and heartbreak quickly set the tone for the set’s happy ending.

Wearing a red dress and brown boots, it was interesting that Nadler’s outfit mimicked the one wore by the lead character in her song “Silvia,” and it gave weight to the folktale lore of her musical narratives that are crafted with a complex beginning, middle, and end, both in story and in auditory structure.

It’s that quality that often finds her compared to ’70s folk sirens like Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez, with such honest simplicity behind her poetry. But what moves her beyond the coffeehouse clutch is the added hallucinatory echoes of Franco-style outfits like Air whose haunting Virgin Suicides–type compositions peeked through Nadler’s set on several occasions, if no more than on “Dying Breed” and “Diamond Heart,” two standouts of the night.

Based in Boston, the 28-year-old first studied painting at the Rhode Island School of Design before teaching herself how to sing and play guitar, and quickly mastered her laidback ambient style on four records, including the latest, Little Hells (Kemado), which was released on March 3.

But even with her short experience, it’s difficult to find something not to like about Nadler — her quiet modesty belies the brimming talent of an artist who can so easily tackle compelling poetry with a voice that has to be one of the best picks from the latest crop of singer-songwriters. Granted, her mic was manipulated with a score of effects, but even on her stripped down cover of Townes Van Zandt’s “Colorado Girl,” which featured her seated with a banjo in her lap, the power behind her delivery never wavered.

Her conversation on this evening was few and far between, often mired in nervous laughter or whispers with her tourmate, guitarist and backing vocalist Carter Tanton from the band Tulsa, who egged her on as she introduced the song “The Whole is Wide.” Certain to inform the crowd the title was spelled W-H-ole, she said, “You never know the sexual content of a song until you play with just men. It has a deeper meaning,” before both jeered at the unplanned punchline.

As she continued on with the song, expressing “What am I to do without a man to see me through?” Nadler quickly answered her own question: that when you have a gift as wide as hers, you only need yourself to fill the empty spaces of a room.

For more photos from this show visit Venus Zine’s Flickr page
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Marissa Nadler Little Hells feature
Marissa Nadler Songs III feature