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There’s an argument that the best track on You Are Free is Marshall’s hiss-laden, drowsily sexy cover of Michael Hurley’s 1965 single Werewolf, but this list is sticking with her own material. Lo-fi and occasionally noisy (Itchyhead sounds a little like drummer Steve Shelley’s main band, Sonic Youth), Marshall’s debut album Dear Sir isn’t the best introduction to her work, but closer Headlights is magnificent: a two-chord chug that rises and falls in intensity, its relentless forward motion pulling you along with it. The lyrics survey a break-up with a cocktail of warmth and cynicism: “Learn to say the same thing,” is pretty sardonic relationship advice. Moon Pix is filled with repetitious guitar figures that burrow under your skin, and Say offers a perfect example: there’s nothing else to the arrangement besides a sparse bass guitar. It’s desperately sad and – with its chorus of backing vocals – incredibly beautiful. Not country music per se, but there’s a distinctly country-ish lean to Good Woman, a regretful break-up song tinged with darkness (“I don’t want to be a bad woman and I can’t stand to see you be a bad man”) decorated with scratching fiddle. Whoever it is in the lyrics, it’s a fabulous song, the warmth of melody at odds with the disarray depicted in the lyrics.Ĭat Power in London in 2021. It is possible that the troubled musician sympathetically drawn in I Don’t Blame You might be Marshall herself, always one of rock’s more erratic live performers. But there’s more to it: a potency to Marshall’s bluesy voice and the chilling lyrical depiction of a rape victim. On the one hand, Ice Water sounds very much like a product of the mid-90s US underground – spidery guitars, muffled vocals, a spare arrangement that feels like it’s going to fall apart any minute.
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Perhaps understandably, her next album Wanderer was full of goodbyes, of which the chanson-like Black – the saga of someone who saved her life at her lowest, but ended up dying himself – is the most powerful and poignant.
Marshall’s relationship with her label Matador ended badly: she claimed they were pushing her to sound more like Adele. But the hypnotic electronic sound of the title track – is that Auto-Tune on the backing vocals? – only points up the affectingly lived-in, old-soul quality of Marshall’s voice: a potent cocktail. Sparse and modern – it was mixed by the late Philippe Zdar of Cassius – Sun was markedly different from the preceding Jukebox and The Greatest.
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