Sarah Coleman <of Ladytown>

“Christ, when are things ever going to change,” she thought, as the desert heat blasted in through the screen door, bathing everything in her kitchen in bland inevitability, including herself, the bottle and her last pretense to culture, the tall stemmed wine glass. “All men suck, except two buck Chuck,” she muttered drolly aloud, “thanks Jesus, and Trader Joe’s,” she toasted the other empty chair, and drained the glass. She was still in her corporate work clothes, a Ross pantsuit she could barely stand, but hadn’t the energy to change out of. She refilled and sat watching the darkness settle in and spread like a tumor in her tiny mortgaged-to-the-teeth shotgun house. Her ancient radio was tuned to some local college station, cranking out one mediocre indie alt-country tune after another, doing nothing to contradict her sense of emptiness. Suddenly she heard it, a voice cutting through like a shocking cool breeze. She almost ignored it, but the hairs stood up on her arm as the voice sang. “Dawn comes, you go outta town, daylight, daylight…” It was a voice from the hills, older than words. It pulled invisibly at something inside. Her hand shot out, grabbed the phone, dialed 411. “I need the number for KCCU. Yeah. Dial me through.” What the hell. She never had called the station before. A listless voice picked up. “KCCU. This’s Katherine.” “Who. I need to know. Who’s that singing right now? Could you ask the DJ?” “No one here but me, program director’s gone home. I’m playing what I like. Right now that’s Ladytown.” Ladytown. Was it a place? She immediately wished she could move there. Someplace the meanness of men couldn’t penetrate. “What is that, a band?” “Yes and no. It’s Sarah Arslanian. She’s up around Sunland, I think.” “I haven’t heard a voice like that since the damn Carter’s. Could you play more?” “Yeah I’ll just let it play through. Some say she’s from West Virginia, some Alberta, but I heard she’s local, raised in Clairemont. She’s got two CDs out.” “Listen. Thank you.” “My pleasure,” Katherine said, warming, “I love it when people dig something real.” She sat back in the darkness and let the voice fill her. Song after song, each one better than the last. Outside a coyote howled. The moon rose. She had a unreasoning sense that somehow, she would make it, at least through tonight.
NEW!!!! Thirty Nine Nineteen <2006> CLICK HERE TO BUY....
Ladytown's first release: Ladytown <2001> CLICK HERE TO BUY....
SOME Ladytown Reviews~~
The Audio Nut
Grade: A
Ladytown is the creation of Sarah Coleman, an impressive guitarist and songwriter with a golden voice from the days of old. Coleman sings from the heart and bares her soul on this twelve-track release, which is sure to cause you to reflect on subjects that youll find in common with her and her music. She sort of reminds me of Patsy Cline or a female Hank Williams Sr. in some spots with her voice and style. Now Im not saying that she bellows out Your Cheatin Heart or I Saw the Light, but her overall delivery is really reminiscent to great singer/songwriters from the past. Glass You Laid, Lolita, and Ill Give to You are all extraordinary songs, while Wo Xiang Ni (I Miss You) is a moving tune where Sarah sings to us in Chinese and doesnt lose a bit of emotion in the translation. There is a new Ladytown CD due out later this year and I am eagerly waiting to hear how it sounds. Fans of P.J. Harvey, Alison Kraus, or Ani DiFranco should have the benefit of visiting Ladytown.
Maverick Magazine
Ladytown is Sarah Coleman, a honey-voiced lady whose stripped-down, emotive country music is quietly becoming a staple on the LA/Southern California Americana scene, and who's ricochet of success has already been felt as far afield as New Zealand and Belgium. Recorded in a friend's living room, LADYTOWN should punch holes much greater than its budget, such is the quality of her battered heart song-writing and siren like, eye-opening vocal performance. Content-wise, Ms. Coleman'ts offerings exhibit acres of desert hurt, much in common with the frayed emotions of more recent LA scenester Lucinda Williams. In aural semblance however, they share startling similarities with the pure-bred lonesome echoes of Dolly Parton. Any number of her twelve tracks would make a seductive lo-fi follow-up to Jolene. The bare acoustic strumming and sympathetic resonator accompanying her cries, making her hardship all the more poignant. "Yeah I'm alright, thanks for asking," she soars on "Easy Come/I'm Alright". The beauty with Coleman, of course, is you can clearly tell she isn't. (HK)
Bryan Chalker of Traditional Music Maker Magazine
Strangely infectious.
Hector Zazou / Producer
There is in Sarah's voice a quality one could have thought has been lost in new singers. A slight quiver which makes me shiver because it takes us out of time, into a poetic West where the music has the color of sand and the lyrics have the taste of an infinite sky".
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