Hearing Marissa Nadler’s voice is something akin to being serenaded in a dreamworld. Her timbre is soft, breathy and whimsical, floating in and out of your ears, quietly lulling you into a calm, sedated state ““ and this is just her speaking voice.
“I would describe my music as very atmospheric, sort of dreamy and slightly dark with a folk undertone,” Nadler said. “Its definitely a bit on the melancholic side, (but) I just aim to write pretty songs … as well as all the words to them.”
The 26-year-old singer/songwriter will be making the trek out west to come to Club Spaceland this Thursday night to launch her national tour, performing songs from her recently released album, “Songs III: Bird on the Water.” Every bit as airy and ethereal when speaking as she is when performing her decadently wistful ballads, Nadler’s music softly blends dark gloom and sweet euphoria. The infectiously haunting “Diamond Heart” or the resonantly gloomy “Silvia” ““ both from “Songs III: Bird on the Water” ““ are prime examples of her unique melancholic folk fusion.
“It’s kind of a mixture of reality and fantasy that I get my inspiration from,” she said. “A lot of my songs are not 100 percent non-fiction; I kind of embellish things and kind of tell stories. I get a lot of inspiration from literature and nature and heartbreak.”
Accompanied by the proverbial acoustic guitar, Nadler has been professionally performing her music for the better part of three years, her life in a constant state of flux as she flits from city to city, following her art. This latest tour is set to have her crisscrossing the country before embarking on the European leg of the tour.
“Part of the problem with the touring lifestyle is that (I’m) always on the road,” Nadler said. “I don’t really have an apartment right now. I’m just traveling a lot right now and when I’m off.”
Even though she’s been professionally touring for years now, she disclosed with the subtlest tone of shy sincerity that she still suffers from considerable stage fright.
“I know it’s a strange combination,” she admitted. “I’m dealing with it and I’m getting a lot better, but I still have mixed feelings about performing live. I prefer dark nightclubs to anywhere else. I don’t like playing anything in the daylight or outside. I kind of prefer to be able to hide a little bit. I think the darker, more ambient the setting, the better.”
Club Spaceland seemingly provides the perfect environment for her, with its long tradition of housing some of alternative rock’s brightest burgeoning talents on its diminutively cozy stage.
In spite of the venue’s venerably long rock history, Nadler ““ sometimes compared to other folk/rock balladeers like Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsom and even the legendary Stevie Nicks ““ considers herself to be less folk and more fantasy.
“I don’t really think of myself as a folk singer. I would want people to approach (my music) in a more celestial way. I think, just because you play an acoustic guitar, there’s a lot of preconceptions and pigeonholing that goes into how music critics describe your music.”
Nadler’s whispering voice cooed and warbled her desire to be seen as something other than just another folk artist, and instead to be an artist whose work is heard and felt on a more emotional level. Every once in a while, she’d pause and double back in the middle of conversation, giving away her naturally timid demeanor. Stopping to overcome her nerves, she worked up the courage to loose her whispering voice again.
“I think (my stage fright has) gotten a lot better with practice. … I used to get emotionally affected with every show to the point where I’d be devastated if it didn’t go perfectly. And now, I just approach it more as a job,” Nadler said. “I try to disassociate myself from it emotionally, from performing, which is good and bad.”
Giving new meaning to “songbird,” Nadler has many of the attributes of her melodious animal counterpart. From her endearingly soft voice to her quizzical gaze, Nadler is every bit the small, skittish bird singing the sweet, sad song.