Having had Mariee Sioux earmarked for some time as a truly great new artist – one who had exerted a frisson of earthy excitement from the moment her ethereal voice melted into my willing ears – I duly and carefully noted, then noted again, that she was playing at Manchester’s Eurocultured street festival on the May Bank Holiday.
So, having made such careful arrangements not to miss this brilliant talent under any circumstances whatsoever, naturally the moment I remembered about her appearance was in a vaguely coherent forehead-slapping moment at two in the morning of the following day.
Ignoring the fact that being an American singer is a minor and confusing inconvenience when appearing on the bill of an all-European showcase festival, missing Mariee Sioux has been a genuinely painful experience, as this woman has a voice of wild heather honey and songs streamed straight from the subconscious of a minor deity.
A song that feels like a deep, strong, unyielding hug of love, with a power zapped straight from the Earth’s life force itself, Loveskulls must be heard so that you too can be dragged, trance-like, into a blissful state by its green, lush charm.
Loveskulls is so light, it may be fuelled by warm summer winds alone; so wholesome and rich that packs of wild animals may well have been raised on the song’s milky beauty; a salve for the soul.
Who is Mariee Sioux? Where did she come from? How did these beautiful songs get here? Thanks partly to my wholehearted idiocy, we may never know. And yet such questions are unimportant when a voice so stubbornly otherworldly, and yet wholly of this planet, sweeps you up and wafts you away. A genuine treat.