Photo credit: Kellen Nordstrom
“This is not my idea of fun,” Jessica Lea Mayfield sings early on her latest album, Sorry is Gone, and it’s a point she can’t stress enough: This isn’t the kind of record she ever imagined herself making. The twangy-voiced Ohio rocker spent several albums, including a couple recorded with The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach, honing her tough persona, only to reluctantly shed it on Sorry is Gone, an unflinching chronicle of her abusive marriage and the withdrawal she felt after leaving it.
The songs are less about the specifics of her harrowing experiences—although she’s certainly not afraid to go there—as they are their ripple effect, and the ways survivorship reshapes your sense of self. As heavy as Sorry is Gone’s subject matter is, the music itself is so brisk and hooky that it’s sometimes possible to gloss over the very real pain at its core. Recorded with Dinosaur Jr. producer John Agnello, it’s a ripping homage to the buzzy, grungy alternative rock of the ’90s, and easily Mayfield’s most assured set of songs yet.
Watching the singer and her three-piece band perform those songs one after another Friday night at the Back Room at Colectivo, though, only accentuated their sadness. Even one-liners that come across as droll in the studio landed with sobering impact. Like Mayfield’s idol Elliott Smith, who she paid tribute to on a 2015 covers album with Seth Avett, her songs are so convincing in their depiction of depression and alienation that you can’t help but feel genuinely worried for the singer who wrote them. Even Mayfield’s sharp-edged banter between songs—usually quick little jabs at the expense of her audience—did little to defuse the tension; they just further reinforced the perception of Mayfield as a wounded soul keeping the rest of the world at a distance.
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Throughout Sorry is Gone, Mayfield makes an important distinction: Being open about her abusive relationship doesn’t mean she wants to be seen as a victim. On “Bum Me Out,” one of the album’s tersest rockers, Mayfield preemptively refuses her audience’s pity. “I don’t need help, and I don’t want charity,” she sings, “I just want someone to be kind to me.” Playing for a silenced, half-full room Friday night, she found an admiring crowd more than happy to comply.
