“Pumped Up Kids” may have been the consensus pick, but my favorite song of the summer was Marissa Nadler’s “The Sun Always Reminds Me of You” off her self-titled, fifth record. In it, the 30-year-old singer/songwriter takes the listener along an old dirt path that conjures up such strong memories of lost love that even the appearance of the sun feels like a cruel reminder. “Where is the rain?” Nadler coos at the dreaded sunny day, making you wish she could just join Morrissey, Keats, and Yates at the Cemetery Gates.

A graduate of the Rhode Island School of Design, Nadler studied fashion design and painting before her musical career took off, but it’s not until her most recent album that she really put her artistic skills to work. After Kemado Records dropped her from their label, Nadler decided to finance her recent record through a successful Kickstarter campaign and by selling her own handmade albums (made with gorgeous, original linocuts) through ETSY.  It’s a formula that is responsible for her strongest and most personal album to date, one that has garnered her no small share of critical acclaim.

You're a darling among critics and the cognoscenti—do you ever find that, paradoxically, that holds you back as an artist by making you feel more accountable to a small (albeit influential) portion of your potential listenership?
I do not believe that I feel accountable to anyone. Luckily, I am so hard on myself that I really focus mostly on the creating process and my work ethic in general. I know it's kind of a painful thing to admit but I'm the same person I was 20 years ago, pushing myself to learn how to use a sewing machine so I could be a fashion designer. I'm the same person I was when I worked really hard on my portfolio for RISD and throughout that part of my life as a painter. I am a hard worker and by far my own harshest critic. Of course, I am extremely happy that my music has reached people far and wide, even if it is a cult audience, and that it's respected, because I put the last ten years of my life into touring the globe the hard way, and making record-after-record, without the easy luck of having any overnight successes to keep me going. I rely on my faith in myself and the connection between the very special people that listen to me and support me, personally and professionally. Through the ups and downs, I am still pushing myself. I want to be the best songwriter that I can be, and the best singer and player I can be. That's what I think about when I make a record. 

In light of how hard you push yourself, could you talk a bit more about the creative process? Is it always arduous? 
Writing songs for me does not hurt. No, it is medication for me to write the kind of music that I do. It is definitely more seamless. Songwriting, unlike the simple every day tasks, is actually one of the things that comes really naturally to me. 

It appears that you take every aspect of your creative output extremely seriously. Is there a lighter, whimsical side of you that you don't put out there or am I missing something and is it there already?
Of course there is a lighter side. You just have to know me better. I just don't see the point of giving everything to the world. You have to keep somethings private. I have a very whimsical side. I just want to be remembered for my art, and not my personality. 

Your fingerprints are on virtually everything that you put out for public consumption. Do you enjoy the hands-on approach or is it more the product of necessity?
It was initially a product of necessity, but I far prefer this way now. I can do whatever I want. I had my heart broken by my last label [Kemado], and after that, I just couldn't put myself out there any more. I love doing ETSY. I think people really enjoy hearing the lo-fi demos that I sell on ETSY, and getting something handmade. In this ago of plasticity, people like to see something painted. 

Could you expand on the "age of plasticity"?
Everything is plastic and mass-produced these days. Everything is a chain store. That’s why I like making things by hand and making lovely vinyl records.

And people appreciate it?
I think a lot of people miss holding something lovely in their hands (that isn't from IKEA). Details. You know, sewing machines used to have such gorgeous designs on them. Everything did. I'm hoping for a New New Deal of beautification that puts artists back to work on public works projects, especially in the U.S. Maybe we could give some color back to the strip malls of America?

What’s wrong with strip malls?
Being from suburbia, I really have a love hate relationship with plasticity and strip malls. There is a beauty to them, I suppose. I'm a bit conflicted. 

http://marissanadler.com/