Send "Marnie Stern " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 Marnie Stern's hyperactive finger-tapping guitar technique is flashy and impressive when taken at face value, but her records are memorable because they're more about earnest expression than technical demonstration. Her complex arrangements evoke emotional turmoil as the songs ping-pong between excitement and panic, ecstasy and despair, extraordinary confidence and harrowing self-doubt. It's intense stuff, and given its jittery rhythms and extreme treble, it's not always easy on the ears. Still, Stern's songs invite a strong bond with the listener-- for all its charged-up rock power, this is intimate music. It's like jumping headfirst into someone's psyche.Stern's last two albums were long on self-directed pep talks, and channeled the nervous energy of her guitar playing into optimistic anthems like "Ruler" and "Transformer". Her latest isn't quite so positive. Though her words still show some faith in her ability to overcome adversity and change bad habits, the tone is far from triumphant-- in fact, some of these songs are outright defeatist. Stern's approach to songwriting and performing hasn't changed much, but the mood is darker, and the lyrics linger on loss, regret, doubt, and failed love. It's an album full of heavy, noisy catharsis, and the lines that stand out amidst the clatter are the ones most at odds with the can-do spirit of her last record. The fact that she spent so much time in self-help mode last time around makes the moments of crippling self-doubt all the more gutting-- it's hard to hear the woman who once declared, "nothing can hold me down!" and sold "WIN 'MARNIE' WIN" t-shirts at her merch table insist that she is "not enough" on two consecutive tracks. You just want her to believe in herself all the time. The bad vibes on Marnie Stern have a way of highlighting an expressive, emotionally resonant quality that's been in her work all along. "For Ash", a song written in memory of a deceased ex-boyfriend, opens the album by cycling through stages of grief in waves of speedy riffs and harsh percussion before ending on a lovely, brittle melody-- "I want to be in your imminent, elegant light." "Transparency Is the New Mystery" is the closest Stern has come to a power ballad, and its equal measure of longing and hopelessness is totally heartbreaking. "Her Confidence" gains its power from an atypically blunt riff that blurs the line between terror and empowerment. Many of these songs would be little more than pyrotechnics and flamboyant gestures in lesser hands, but Stern infuses every moment of her songs with odd humor and wounded, fragile humanity. It's impossible to miss the distinct person at the center of this noise....full text |
| Avclub |
| Two years after delivering a 31-word album title, Marnie Stern has gone the more traditional route of a self-titled record. It’s fitting, since Marnie Stern features her most traditional songwriting yet, cramming her mind-exploding guitar work into more accessible structures. Weaving in the best elements of her previous albums—fretboard-tapping flair, frenetic prog-rock drumming from Zach Hill, sneaky time-signature twists—Stern finally sees the forest for the trees: Soaring hooks wax and wane in an intentional emotional flow, and even at her most energetic, she remains poignant and personal. She still occasionally shows off, and there’s plenty of epic bombast, but a cleaner production showcases the music’s most interesting complexities without letting them get swallowed in the chaos. (Stern’s vocals, on the other hand, are blurred into choral fuzz, with moments of screeching shrillness that rake the nerves.) “For Ash,” a song about an ex-boyfriend’s suicide, is strangely alive, whirling and tumbling like a gusty mountaintop; “Female Guitar Players Are The New Black” electrifies by layering a taunting chant into a thrashing guitar riff. The record closes to the hollow rush of “The Things You Notice,” which softly thumps to the pulse of a coolly thrilling night in the big city. By the end, Marnie Stern proves that no matter how she packages her talents, Stern sounds only like herself....full text |
| Filtermagazine |
| Just as Los Angeles is ready to deem itself “the place to be” for female guitar players with its current queens of the lo-fi scene, Brooklyn-based guitarist/vocalist Marnie Stern retaliates with her third LP that shocks like an AED straight to the heart. Precise dissonance has long been Stern’s strong point, and when paired with a super-human stamina she careens through a 10-track album without any sense of relief until it’s all over; every note is climatic, every vocal a yelp. “Risky Biz” delivers a nuanced pop tune at fast-forward speed, while Stern turns personal on the turbulent “For Ash,” a lament to her late ex-boyfriend that rides waves of emotions—and sounds—more tender than any of Stern’s previous conceptual albums. And though the title begs to differ, the pummeling, shred-happy “Female Guitar Players are the New Black” proves Stern is anything but willing to settle for what others expect her to be....full text |
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