Marlee MacLeod: Mapping the Muse

December 2000

by Al Lovelock

She can roll you and bowl you over with crisp-rocking thunder or she can yank at your emotions with sweet, heartbreaking melodies. She will tickle your intellect with smart lyrics, clever turns of phrases, snatches of internal conversation, and simple, direct honesty. But in the end it’s her voice that pulls you in—that nasal alto with just a hint of Alabama drawl and a suggestion of deadpan, as if she’s holding out for a punchline that never comes, or a secret that in the end she won’t reveal.

            Perhaps sparked by her association with the Dashboard Saviours, an early-’90s roots-rock band from Athens, Georgia, MacLeod has a loyal following in the alternative-country world. Her song “Mata Hari Dress” was included on Exposed Roots, a K-Tel Records alt-country compilation, alongside tunes by Lucinda Williams, Steve Earle, Whiskeytown, and Gram Parsons. But her music is not overtly “country.” She is a fan of Patsy Cline and the old masters of C&W, to be sure, but she also lists Elton John as an influence, and  sometimes—half-jokingly—Cher.

            “I used to live in Alabama/Big on tradition, short on glamor,” MacLeod sang in an early song. But for the past six years the 34-year-old singer-songwriter has resided in Minneapolis, breaking away now and again to tour. A self-described “band geek” who played trumpet in high school and junior high bands, MacLeod began writing “really hideous songs” as a teenager. Later, at the University of Alabama, she began performing solo gigs. And by 1993, she released her first album, album Drive Too Fast (Twin Tone/Medium Cool).

            Her fourth and latest album, There We Are (Hayden’s Ferry) is packed with punches. Surprisingly, there is a bigger twang quotient here than on most of MacLeod’s previous albums, as several cuts feature steel guitar and even fiddles. The wistful “Walk You Home,” for example, ends with a cosmic Jerry Garcia–like steel solo. Still the feel of the album is closer to Exiles on Main Street than Tammy Wynette. Most of the songs on There We Are deal with love affairs and all the complexities therein. “Autherine,” however, was inspired by the first black woman who tried to go to the University of Alabama. The lyrics contain nothing about George Wallace or the National  Guard, or about race or politics. Instead, there is a sense of shame and implied apology. Listeners unaware of Autherine’s true identity could interpret this song in ways that have nothing to do with the Civil Rights struggle.

            While pigeonholing her music as “alt country” doesn’t seem quite right, it’s equally limiting to describe MacLeod as a “musician.” For one thing, she ‘s also a teacher at Music Tech in Minneapolis, using her personal knowledge of the show-biz game to conduct classes in songwriting and artist management. She’s also an accomplished true-crime writer, frequently contributing articles about serial killers and spree murderers. (She contributed an article on murderer Charles “Texas Bell Tower” Whitman to a web site called the Crime Library, www.crimelibrary.com.)

            If being a true-crime buff doesn’t jibe with your usual image of a female singer-songwriter, consider this: MacLeod avidly listens to conservative talk-radio shows. Though by no means a right-winger herself, she has a short-wave radio to keep up with hardcore broadcasts that thrive in that shadowy medium. “It can get pretty horrifying,” she says of the right-wing fringe. “I just think it’s important to understand that these folks are out there. And I can’t argue with them if I don’t know what they’re into. Plus, they’re pretty funny sometimes. They’re not very good at grammar.”

            Asked what the first thing is she tells her songwriting students, MacLeod says she tries to teach them that songs aren’t just about expressing your feelings. “I tell them that, to me, a good song makes compromises between expression of feeling and songwriting craft. Then they ignore me and express their feelings…no, they don’t really ignore me. But that following the muse thing is a hard one to break out of. Sometimes the muse needs a map.”