Marnie Stern

The Chronicles of Marnia

Things are snappier, more infectious, arguably simpler, but ultimately just as rewarding.

Chronicles, her follow-up, develops the contrast of musical highs and lyrical lows, but this time, her tragedy is her own creativity.

Every weird twist and turn on The Chronicles of Marnia sounds like the work of a musician so effortlessly absorbed in her craft, so attuned to the expressive qualities of her music, that the internal logic of her songs is completely cohesive and idiosyncratic – and more importantly, really damn fun.

Despite omnipresent everyday obstacles, Stern, 37, is still fine-tuning her sound, still working hard on her craft, still carving out acclaim in a male-dominated field, and ultimately still standing, still shredding.

Tere's something exhilarating in listening to her think out loud — the sureness of her songwriting battling the part of her brain that knows the song will never be enough.

The music on this American singer-songwriter and guitarist extraordinaire’s fourth album is also excellent, and finds the nimble-fingered New Yorker flitting between manic, cheerleaderish pep and losing-team-crying-in-the-locker-room pessimism.

Marnia still sounds like Marnie Stern: aggressive, busy, bright, with death-defying highs and perilous lows.

These 10 songs have a lightness of touch about them that make this Stern’s most accessible, and most enjoyable, album to date.

'The Chronicles Of Marnia' is the sort of album you want to place in a velvet lined box and present to everyone who visits. It's loveable, thrilling and properly innovative. Plus, she can totally shred.

As ever, the New Yorker’s guitar skills are incredible: she gives great riff, and her widdly-widdly stuff will make your own fingers ache as you listen.

More than its predecessors, Marnia exists as a kind of safe place, a forum where Stern can confront her deepest anxieties and most crippling self-doubts and always come out on top.