Plunge into the Dark Folk Universe of Marika Hackman [stream]

Listen to Marika Hackman, and it doesn’t take long to realize you’re listening to something important. Her sound’s folksy outer membrane proves its inability to encapsulate the full sound, quickly giving way to depths unseen by way of casual glance. Upon exploration, Hackman’s music opens up an alternate folk universe replete with heavy doses of fascinating intentional elements.

Perhaps the most appealing aspect of Hackman’s music is its darkness which is at once both murky and refreshing — murky in her choice of mournful, often gory imagery and propensity towards minor keys, and refreshing for the same exact qualities that make it murky. There is music that deals primarily in light and mirth, but this sort is not entirely honest. Life is equal parts light and dark, and Hackman confidently plunges into the darkness with open eyes, embracing its sticky, wet truth and emerging with handfuls of engrossing stories — tales involving severed body parts, black bath water, and crowns made of bones. And yet, the gothic undercurrent of Hackman’s music is appealing because darkness is not only honest, it’s also romantic. We love her music for the same reason we love reading Poe or watching a beautifully violent Alt-J video. There’s an odd brilliance and beauty to be found in the macabre, especially the way she is spinning it.

But there’s light to be found in her music, as well. Her hypnotic voice, the light harmonies, textured instrumentation, and shrewd arrangements all combine to provide a vitality and balance to her sound, making for one of the most enchanting listening experiences I’ve ever had. I implore you to immediately explore Marika Hackman’s debut mini-album, That Iron Taste, and hear the significance for yourself.