Both bands share the knowledge that catharsis can be fun — that it’s a beautiful thing when emotional turmoil gives birth to a loud rock song. Over the years, that territory has been mined by many of Boston’s female-fronted bands, from Throwing Muses and Salem 66 up through Chelsea on Fire and Come’s Thalia Zedek. And the tradition continues with the release of McLaughlin’s More Stories for Dana (Press Records) and the Kitty Kill’s Domesticated (no record label as yet) — a pair of wrenching discs that one can have a great time emoting along with.
Meaghan McLaughlin has made so much music over the past 10 years — both solo and with the bands SK-70, Lint, Rock City Crimewave, and Barbaro — that it’s hard to think of her as a late bloomer. But she’s also had the mixed blessing of a split musical personality. One part of her wants to plug the guitar in and set it on stun; the other wants to sit down with the unplugged acoustic and get meaningful. With her pierced nose and tattoo’d arms, she’s always fit the picture of a metal chick, so the introspection of her acoustic solo debut was a surprise. Her new disc retains that acoustic base but fleshes out the arrangements with a full rocking band (including her brother Shaun on manic, Keith Moon–style drums). The writing also evinces a mix of tough and tender, fulfilling the creative promise that’s been there all along.
"My metal geekdom is always going to come through," she notes over an early-evening beer at the Abbey Lounge. "As far as my solo thing goes, I think Im still experimenting — in fact, I feel like a jerk for calling myself a singer because I don't practice and I never took lessons. But I need to have both things, to have the songs and to put some metal riffery in there." Sitting in on the conversation is Amy DiSciullo, the bassist who joined McLaughlin’s band after the CD was wrapped up. As a former member of Chelsea on Fire, DiSciullo knows her way around a big riff and an intense lyric. "As a listener," she reveals, "I always like it when I can hear a song and say, ‘Yeah, I’ve been through that.’ I get a lot of that from the songs Meaghan writes."
The CD’s lyrics are full of references to drinking too much and loving too hard, with plenty of self-critical zingers like "I made my own bed, and someday I’ll remember why I can’t sleep." McLaughlin’s voice at times sounds like Kristin Hersh’s, a songwriter who’s mined similar emotional territory. "It’s all stories of a really bad year," she says, "the kind of year when everything falls apart and everything you’ve been fooling yourself about is suddenly revealed. When intense things start happening and you’re thinking about them all the time, it gets pretty easy to write songs. I wish I could have made them a little more abstract, but sometimes all you can do is come out and say what needs to be said."
During the two years in which the disc was being written, McLaughlin toured and recorded with Barbaro before they broke up, made a brief move to Olympia ("I hoped the music scene would be good, but it wasn’t"), and abandoned the album for a time. The "Dana" of the disc’s title is not only one of McLaughlin’s best friends but her favorite bartender at Charlie’s Kitchen in Harvard Square. "I’m sure she knows the whole story behind every one of these songs. The fact is that I’ve been pulling my hair out because I didn’t feel like that part of my life would really be done until the record was released. Now that it's out, I can wash my hands of the whole thing and be really relieved and happy. So now we'll get some energy going. It's springtime, time for some explosions."
This is not a happy record filled with cute pop songs. Instead, this is a captivating record with ten profound and predominantly dark musical masterpieces which Meaghan McLaughlin delivers in a deeply personal style. She simultaneously invites you to join her in the recesses of her mind and solemnly warns you against even considering such an invasion of her privacy. Quite honestly, this is a CD that I wanted to buy before it even existed, and that I can't stop listening to now that my wish has come true. Those of you who have been lucky enough to see Meaghan McLaughlin perform any of these songs live will understand my enthusiasm and will appreciate the effort that she put into making this magical record. The rest of you will have to take my word for it until you buy the CD.
When you look back at McLaughlin's previous bands, "sappy" isn't exactly the word that comes to mind. Her initial outfit, SK-70 (who made one 1993 EP for CherryDisc) were out for blood, as evidenced by McLaughlin's fearsome shrieks up front. And she hasn't calmed down much since. Currently she fronts Barbaro and occasionally sings for Lint. Her Meaghan McLaughlin solo disc (on the new Press label) is her first full-length, and though it's a relatively peaceful set, it's also the kind of acoustic album where you wouldn't be surprised to hear a band crash in at any minute. Her voice may be pretty on the surface, but she seems to be holding back a major outburst. There's a notable resemblance to Kristin Hersh in that voice, and she can write similarly haunting tunes. But whereas Hersh's acoustic songs come from a reasonably stable home life, McLaughlin's characters are all in various stages of disorder.
The details -- alcohol, poverty, artistic squalor, failed love, late nights, and more alcohol -- aren't exactly unheard of in rock circles. But McLaughlin catches the allure of this demi-monde without romanticizing it. "Barstool Poets" gets the essence of, say, the Middle East at 1:59 a.m. "Bender" could be the same people about five hours later. The opening "Whore" isn't about being a prostitute, just about the way trying to survive on art or music can make you feel like one.
"I'm almost making fun of myself in that song, but it's about all of us drama-queen musicians," she notes at Davis Square's Someday Café while drinking her wake-up coffee at one in the afternoon. "Sometimes I do pull that starving-artist thing, whining and complaining about how you get up and pour your heart out just for 50 bucks and free beer tickets. Not to discredit the situation, we do that because it means something. But it would be nice to do it without starving yourself."
It's no surprise to learn that McLaughlin was writing stories as a child before picking up a guitar. "I started writing when I was little -- weird, because I thought I was good for my age, and now I'm deteriorating. I am interested by intense situations that people get themselves into, and I can't see myself writing about anything else." She also admits she's been in a lot of the situations described in the songs. "I wrote `Bender' in the middle of the night, one of those times when you start thinking, `I have to keep drinking now, so my hangover doesn't kick in.' I've been a heavy drinker, but there's a lot of those on the rock scene -- funny how you're either that or you're straight edge, but if somebody's only moderate, that's considered really weird. I like to think I'm on the healthy side of being a waster, sad as that may sound. Drinking can certainly kill your creativity, I've seen that happen to people. But if you can pull something creative out of it, that's definitely a plus."
Although she's friendly in conversation, I can sense the intensity that comes out in McLaughlin's songs. "I do have this weird angry streak; I don't know where it comes from, but it's probably good for my music. Performing keeps some of that under control, but I still tend to throw temper tantrums sometime." With that she takes another sip of coffee. "Thank God for rock and roll, right?"