Album Review: Marissa Nadler – New Radiations

New Radiations marks Marissa Nadler’s tenth studio release, a record that thrives on the intimacy of its words. To truly absorb what she conveys, you have to listen closely; her writing carries a fragile sadness, softened by grace.

The opener, “It Hits Harder,” immediately tugs at emotions. With sparse, delicate instrumentation, Nadler delivers verses that beg to be unraveled: “I will fly around the world just to forget you / Everything dies / But when it rains it’s hard to believe your eyes.” The combination of her understated vocal style and sharp lyrical edge creates a subtle tension that lingers long after the track ends.

A shadowy atmosphere surrounds “Smoke Screen Selene.” Anchored by a heavy, low guitar line, the song floats in layers of synth textures courtesy of Milky Burgess and Randall Dunn. Though its structure is repetitive, Nadler uses that persistence to underscore her point, wrapping the listener in an almost trance-like spell. The overall production of New Radiations is restrained but intentional; there’s no attempt to overreach. Instead, Nadler stays firmly within her creative world, crafting cohesion through consistency.

“Weightless Above The Water” is one of the most vivid pieces on the record, filled with imagery that stretches beyond the earthly: “The sky took its hat off, this spaceship became my home / I saw the horizon the sun would rise it all turned black.” Here, Nadler embraces the idea of leaving fear behind, finding freedom in drifting toward the cosmos as a metaphor for self-discovery.

The record’s central motif is the vastness of outer space, and Nadler paints it as both beautiful and symbolic. Stars, horizons, and skies become vessels for her reflections on love, loss, and meaning, tying the personal to the universal.

The closer, “Sad Satellite,” captures the aftermath of heartbreak. More dynamic than the rest, it swells as she acknowledges losing herself within a relationship: “Took me for a ride when I mistook you for the sky.” It’s a line that encapsulates the ache of misplaced devotion, ending the album on a note that is both devastating and deeply human.