There's something indescribably fascinating about staring through a window, a voyeurism that fills a need deep down in many people's souls. Marissa Nadler confesses to being something of a home bird, spending much of her time when at home in Boston's Jamaica Plain neighbourhood, using the distance between a pane of glass and the real world as the muse for her quintessentially Gothic folk songs.
Strangers is an odd title for her seventh album since emerging in the early noughties, only because the characters that inhabit it's hazy passages are drawn both from memory but from all around her circle, some references necessarily obtuse, some less so; familiarity it seems, pays the rent.
Becoming more open and experiential in song writing terms has in every respect has been something of a gradual process for Nadler, as rumblings from fans of her earlier neoclassicism about nudging towards the mainstream - following for instance in the footsteps of Sharon Van Etten - lingered faintly around Stranger's predecessor, July. If she was abashed by this aversion to change, the sometime unlikely collaborator with renowned dirge metallists Sunn O )) makes few concessions to it here, continuing the process of topical enrichment spurred on by marriage and getting sober begun some years ago.
Continue reading: Marissa Nadler - Strangers Album Review
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