Welcome to Rough Trade NYC
We're currently only able to ship online from the UK in £, but will be launching our US online store in a few months!
Be sure to follow us @RoughTradeNYC for all the latest news.
– Rough Trade
29 October - 17 November
THE RECORD BOOKS: IF BEST-SELLING ALBUMS HAD BEEN BOOKS INSTEAD - An Exhibition by Christophe Gowans
18 November - 31 December
Album Of The Year Exhibition 2013
November 30, 1:00pm
THIS IS A NEW YORK INSTORE
NO WRISTBAND NECESSARY, JUST COME DOWN ON THE DAY
***PLEASE NOTE THIS IS AN AFTERNOON INSTORE***
Marissa Nadler wastes no time in cutting close to the bone on July, her latest album and first for her new labels, Sacred Bones (US) and Bella Union (Europe). Drive opens the record with one of her most devastating lines, addressing a quandary we have all grappled with at some point: If you aint made it now/ Youre never gonna make it. There is catharsis in the chorus: Nothin like the way it feels/ To drive, she sings amid a choir of celestial harmonies, elongating that last word as if it were a car bounding down a long stretch of lost highway. Its Nadler at her most elemental: warm but spectral, vulnerable but resilient. Nadler lays the listener and herself on the line with July, her sixth full-length album in nearly a decade. Set for release on Feb. XX, it floats freely in the pop cosmos somewhere between gauzy shoegaze, unvarnished folk, and even a hint of metals doom-and-gloom spirit. On Firecrackers, an acoustic strum frames a cascading melody that is simply gorgeous until you realize just how much it belies the brutality of what Nadler has to say. Firecrackers/ Burned into heaven on the floor/ My attacker/ Its me, its me, its me youre looking for. Then she slyly leavens the mood: July Fourth of last year/ We spilled all the blood/ Howd you spend your summer days? Nadler asks with a straight face, acknowledging you could either laugh or cry at such a sentiment. This is the world of Nadlers July, where youre likely to find the Boston-based singer and songwriter holed up at the Holiday Inn watching crime TV or leaving her instruments to freeze in the car. These settings, details, and themes are brand-new to Nadlers canon, and they paint a far more realistic version of her life than her previous records. The results are astonishing and occasionally reminiscent of David Lynch (who is, appropriately enough, among her label mates on Sacred Bones). Recorded at Seattles Avast Studio, the album pairs Nadler for the first time with producer Randall Dunn (Earth, Sunn O))), Wolves in the Throne Room). Dunn matches Nadlers darkness by creating a multi-colored sonic palette that infuses new dimensions into her songs. Eyvand Kangs strings and Phil Wandschers guitar lines escalate the whole affair to a panoramic level of beautiful, eerie wonder. Her voice, too, is something to behold here, at once clarion but heavy with the kind of tear-stained emotion you hear on scratchy old country records by Tammy Wynette and Sammi Smith. Long gone are the days when Nadler summoned images of 1960s folk singers who got lost in the woods. She is a cosmic force on July, shooting these songs to euphoric highs and heartbreaking lows. Celebrated for her crystalline soprano, she explores her lower register to profound effect throughout July, turning 1923 into a cinematic ode to forlorn love. Strings cradle Nadlers vocals, cresting in a climax that is somehow vast yet still intimate. If you were to hear only one song from July which would be a shame, by the way let it be 1923. It is Nadler in miniature: haunted, elegiac, and epic. July is the kind of release that reminds you why NPR counts Nadler's songwriting as so revered among an assortment of tastemakers. This is a singular achievement for the artist, a record she couldnt have made earlier in her career because, as every songwriter knows, she didnt just write these songs: She lived them.