Marchelle Bradanini ‘Only A Woman’ Bio

By Rachel Brodsky

Society loves to classify women as one thing: daughter; single; engaged; married; mother. And with each of these roles, there comes an ever-changing, unattainable list of expectations, something Marchelle Bradanini has spent a lot of time thinking about over the past few years. 

In some ways, the California-based singer/songwriter, who has previously performed under the moniker Pony Boy and composed countless backing tracks for TV shows like Mr. Robot and Gotham, has spent her entire career grappling with what society—not to mention the music industry at large—would have her be. And never has she been more articulate about that cognitive dissonance than on her forthcoming solo effort, Only A Woman.

Let’s take it back to the beginning: In her earliest days as a performer, Bradanini, who today jokingly refers to herself on Only A Woman as a “Drugstore Blonde,” butted heads with A&R professionals, who would act surprised when she claimed not to “write sunny Christian music, because that’s what they expect by looking at me with my suburban smile.” Fast-forward to today, as a mom of two young children, Bradanini has chafed against her limited ability to tour and promote her music—never mind the music industry’s apparent limited use for female musicians over a certain age. 

Realizing that her promotional options felt limited after giving birth, Bradanini thought, “Wait a minute, I actually want to talk about being a woman past their societal sell-by date. Like, how does society treat women, especially women that are getting older, as artists? What's our relevance?” 

In response, Bradanini has overseen a few projects, spanning back to her time living and working in Nashville and leading up to moving back West. A few years ago, she co-founded a record label and small Press, Cosmic Thug Records, on which she released 2015’s Americana-leaning Blue Gold under the Pony Boy moniker. A few years later, finding herself unable to commit to traditional touring while looking after her two young children, Bradanini turned to local activism during the 2018 Midterm elections, where she became involved in boots-on-the-ground canvassing, registering new voters, letter-writing and online phone banking on behalf of candidates and organizations like Katie Porter, Moms Demand, Swing Left, Emily's List and Stacy Abrams’ Fair Fight.

Now, in conjunction with drummer and longtime friends Amy Wood (Fiona Apple) and producer Adam Landry (Deer Tick), Bradanini has unveiled an observant collection of “lullaby”-sounding songs in a sophomore effort under her own name. Opening with the poignant lead single “Red, White & Blues,” Only A Woman is written in response to, first and foremost, the 2016 election, which, as Bradanini says, “triggered a lot of feelings.”

“The hardest working women in the room get overlooked, while the dumbest, loudest men—patriarchal society sees them as leaders,” she says. “We know how smart and capable and powerful women are, yet too many are still marginalized and diminished. We work harder, get paid less, and we just keep on going. And I think that's the same way in so many fields… And how can I put my voice out there amidst all the noise? I just think the alternative is just so bleak and disempowering.”

Bradanini’s compositions, which deal with modern American issues like mansplaining (“Oscar Wilde”) and the emptiness of consumer culture (“Chinese New Year”) are lilting, perceptive folk-pop songs that take sonic influence from figures like indie-rock luminaries Sharon Van Etten, Angel Olsen and Jenny Lewis, not to mention folk icon Leonard Cohen.

Evoking highly relatable images of troubling, contemporary subject matter, on Only A Woman Bradanini uses her craft to address politics and the inherent gender divide. On the album’s slow-marching opening track and lead single, “Red, White & Blues,” which features Nashville-based singer/songwriter Tristen, Bradanini comments on the “brutal pendulum swing” from the Obama administration to the current occupant of the White House. “At first it’s like, ‘Good job, America!’ Then seeing the halls of power become occupied by these stern-jawed men saying, 'Trust that we have your best interests at heart.' And we're like, "Um, I don't think you do!’ 

Also featuring Tristen is the sternly worded “Oscar Wilde,” a song that illustrates an educated male archetype most women will have encountered at some point or another. “Woe is you and your Bachelor’s degrees/ Studied the classics and poetry/ But you’re no Voltaire or even Robert Bly/ And you’re certainly not the first to quote Oscar Wilde.” 

“These dudes, the pseudo-intellectual males. I like Oscar Wilde, but there’s a certain type of person who consistently quotes Oscar Wilde,” laughs Bradanini.

Meanwhile, the plaintive, bass-led “Chinese New Year” contemplates the emptiness one feels when looking to social media for satisfaction. “When you're sitting at home and you're wanting access to the outside world through your phone… and you're being micro-targeted with all these accounts,” she says.

“As an artist, people would engage with me much more if I put a photo up that happened to be of my face rather than something substantive. So we're like, okay, well, this is what seems to be rewarded, but, is this how I want to spend my time engaging with the world? That works quite easy to digest things and not feel as a consumer, the more things we accumulate, the more empty we feel because things are great, but they don't ultimately feed our soul in a way. I just feel like we're so much more isolated as a society now more than ever, you know?”

Further commenting on society’s knee-jerk reactions to appearance, Bradanini performs a stunning, silky duet with country royalty Lilly Hiatt on “Drugstore Blonde,” wryly noting how “they say everything is easy as a drugstore blonde.” A droll, plainspoken delivery, Bradanini notes, is how she chooses to “vent” through song “There’s an amazing John Prine song called ‘Your Flag Decal Will Get You Into Heaven.’ It's the most brilliant song that captures the hypocrisy of a certain type of false patriotism. It's deeply subversive and clever and funny, and heartbreaking all at once. That was sort of my prototype. Like, wow, how can there be more music like that?”