7 From The Women is a new segment here on Independent Artist Buzz where we ask some of the industries finest seven questions. During this time of accusations and the lack thereof, we think it’s important to give women a voice. We chose to ask seven questions to honor the seven Wiccan clans.
Lo Marie’s aesthetic encompasses jazz harmonic constructs, urban grooves, soulful guitar passages, and the expressivity of the jazz and neo-soul vocal traditions. Her debut EP, Beyond the Age of Reason(2012), produced by ace Nashville session man Jerry Kimbrough. We had the pleasure of asking her a couple questions this week.
What have you been working to promote lately?
I have been working to promote a series of 7 singles (what a coincidence that you are honoring 7!). Each song will come out approximately a month apart, and will eventually be bundled as the album Le Rêve, which means “The Dream.”
The whole album is a celebration of freedom of creativity and expression. “The Dream” is represented by the phrase “I wanna dance on the moon.” Obviously, that is something that will not happen for me - it is simply embracing the notion of limitless dreaming and having wandering, free-thinking ideas.
Another theme throughout the seven singles is bravery. This idea is best seen through the image of an African Daisy. Every night African Daisies close up, a gesture interpreted as being protective of their vulnerably beautiful pedal display. In the morning, these flowers burst open and share with the world their bold essence. The notion of having to re-open oneself every day seems like such a brave and admirable act.
Sea Monster, which comes out March 8th, is about embracing all aspects of yourself, even the “ugly” parts that you shove down to the bottom of a lake. In the song, those ugly parts grow into a sea monster that rises from the depths to meet you, but instead of being threatening or scary, simply wants to dance with the other half of you in the light of day. It’s a sigh of relief to finally find peace with yourself.
Please tell us about your favorite song written, recorded or produced by another woman and why it’s meaningful to you
Oh man. That’s a tough one. I’d have to say pretty much all of Carole King’s songbook. “You’ve Got a Friend” is such a great song. It’s pure and honest and compassionate. “You Make Me Feel (Like A Natural Woman)” is another great one. It really addresses relationships from both sides - how each person affects the other - and shows how that can be such a positive thing.
What does it mean to you to be a woman making music today and do you feel a responsibility to other women to create messages and themes in your music?
I love who I am, and being a woman is part of that. I also love what I do, which is make music. To me, those two things are very separate. Being able to differentiate yourself from your work is a very important part of living a full life. While I think it would be great to gain more equality in my field, I don’t feel compelled to use my work to promote that idea. Part of equality is freedom. I’d like to be free to write whatever I want to write about it. If that happens to be women’s rights, so be it. If it happens to be something else, that’s great too. I will continue to speak up for women’s rights in the field, but I’m most concerned about making great music.
A lot of what I’ve been writing about lately is about self-acceptance, unconditional love, and bravery. Those are beautiful things, and apply to everyone, not just women. However, I would also argue that those ideas, essentially boiling down to identity development, IS feminism, as well as humanism. So many women need to work on identity development - myself absolutely included. Just yesterday, a guy left a note for me with his number in a very creepy way. My sister and I were talking about how to handle it. We thought maybe I should lie and tell him that I’m seeing someone else. Then it hit us - why on earth do I need to make him feel better about rejection, when it comes at the cost of my own feelings? I hate lying; it makes me feel terrible. Plus, it doesn’t do anything to correct the underlying problem of how he approaches women. That’s just one small everyday example of how I could stand to re-evaluate how I view myself in comparison to a male acquaintance. In any case, I firmly believe that self-acceptance and identity development, the themes I often choose to write about, are a big part of feminism. But make no mistake - it is a choice to write about these things, not a responsibility. By the time I didn’t have a choice, then it would become a responsibility.
What is the most personal thing you have shared in your music or in your artist brand as it relates to being female?
Dirty Fools is about a college professor who crossed the line. I honestly thought it only happened in the movies. It was a clear abuse of power.
It started really innocently. He was my big band director and I was also in his Jazz Chord Extensions class, and I also played in his professional big band. He would take the college big band rhythm section out for pizza every Tuesday before our sectional rehearsal. One by one the other members got too busy for dinner AND rehearsal, and for a week or two, it was just the two of us. He was a southern gentleman, so he would kiss me on the cheek to say goodbye. He would also waive me into his office when I had free time and show me cool old jazz videos, which was awesome, but it established that it was ok to be alone together in a non-professional manner. After that, he invited me out to one of his gigs, brought me backstage to hang with the band and drink beer. While it was still harmless, it once again established that our relationship was not strictly professional. The following week, he called me up on Friday and asked if I had dinner plans because he knew a really cool spot. I knew that going to dinner alone on a Friday night was not something I was comfortable with, but I didn’t know how to say no. After all, he controlled my grades in 2 classes, and my scholarship depended upon a certain GPA. Additionally, he was well respected in the music community, and he really could be detrimental to my career in the long run if he wanted to be. So I went. It turns out that this “cool spot” was actually an hour away and quite fancy. Then the change was visible. Monday in the hallway at school, instead of kissing my cheek to say goodbye, it was on the lips. In public. It totally took me by surprise. The fact that it was in public meant that I really couldn’t react to it. Then it happened again. After talking to my roommate and crying for a week, I decided to talk to him about it. I went in to his office and immediately the tears came. He kept saying, “This can’t all be from me. What’s going on? You can talk to me.” Instead of hearing me, he used it as an opportunity to be my shoulder to cry on and try to get closer. I knew then that talking to him wasn’t going to change anything.
I should also take a moment to say that he had cancer. It had come back for a third time, and things were not looking good. If I went to the Dean, would he lose his job and therefore his healthcare? There’s absolutely no way that I wanted to condemn this man to death. In so many ways he was an excellent mentor and there was a vast amount I could learn from him. People are very complex - not all good, and not all bad. But he shouldn’t die for making me feel uncomfortable.
I should also say that this behavior of being inappropriately close to female students had happened to at least 2 other girls that I knew of, and I could see it starting to happen with a new Freshman too. Nobody else wanted to say anything.
After a month of being really unhappy and seeing my grades start to slip, I decided to talk to the Dean. I told her that I didn’t want any repercussions for him - I simply wanted her to know what was going on so that she could keep and eye on it, and for me to withdraw from his classes. One of his classes was actually required for me to graduate, but he very kindly decided to give me an A in the course rather than have a W on my record (I had already audited the course the previous year and taken the exams, so he gave me the A retroactively).
Things went the absolute best they could have. It felt like a huge weight had been taken off my shoulders. I had successfully made myself happier without hurting another person and while keeping future students safe too. Dirty Fools is a complete celebration of speaking up! I couldn’t be happier that I did. I hope it inspires other women to speak up as well. Even more than that, I hope it encourages everyone to speak up about what they need. Communication is such an essential part of coexistence.
A year later, we were able to make up. When I first started playing guitar for him, he had given me his Fender Stratocaster from his high school rock band. I gave it back when everything went down. Instead of making up with words, he told me that the guitar was still mine, and that any time I wanted to come back to his professional big band, there was a spot for me. I’m so glad that I was able to forgive him. He passed away about two years after that.
What female artists have inspired you and influenced you?
Alicia Keys is such an inspiration to me. She is a promoter of both feminism and humanism. She delivers her message in a beautiful and uplifting way that seems like it comes from a place of honesty and purity. I fell in love with her as a musician right off the bat with Songs in A Minor, and she’s kept me as an avid fan by making me feel like a comrade on a shared journey. I love how she chooses to use her platform, and I love that she chooses to be more than a musician (even though I believe that being a musician should be enough - but that’s another story).
What was the most challenging thing you have had to face as a female artist?
Gaining base-line respect from others in the industry. Whenever I’m working with new musicians, I always have to be on the top of my game. Granted, I always want to be on the top of my game, and working hard is important to me; however, there is simply no room to slack. If I don’t show up to a rehearsal with everything ready to spoon feed the musicians, they won’t put in the effort to make great music with me. One small example was just a little comment in passing after we’d finished our first rehearsal together. He said, “You really have your stuff together for a chick singer.” He immediately backpedaled, but the fact of the matter is: that’s what he was actually thinking. He came into the rehearsal thinking that I would suck, be uneducated, or somehow less of a musician than he is. Once I’ve broken through the first impression barrier, things generally flow pretty smoothly. But extrapolate that to how many cold emails I send out weekly for booking, press, etc. If that is everyone’s first assumption, I’m constantly fighting a pretty steep uphill battle.
If you could collaborate with any other female artists who would you choose?
Nai Palm - she has such a gift for music making. Lyrics, chord progressions, meter changes - she’s just fantastic. One of my favorite lyrics of hers is “I could call your demons inside, soak them in Chamomile.” It’s simple, but it’s such a unique thought.
Susan Tedeschi - both as a singer and guitarist
Bonnie Raitt - I love her slide style
Joni Mitchell - what a beautiful songwriter. And I love her guitar playing too. She knew exactly what tone she wanted for each song.
Connect with Lo Marie online:
https://open.spotify.com/artist/22CZx5oZBRtU7XFHpnlDeq?si=znekMmgRSrCC7O3nf5MzjA
https://www.instagram.com/lomariemusic/
https://www.facebook.com/LoMarieMusic/
https://twitter.com/LoMarieMusic
https://www.youtube.com/LoMarieMusic
