Mallory is a dispersed collective of musicians that found itself coagulated momentarily in the hills of Western Massachussetts. Mallory first found its voice in the summer thunderstorms, the porch lights, the moths, the hazy negotiation of tired cities. Long bike rides, walls of green, the orchard, the quarry. A ribbon of dirt road, blood on the grass. Shattered pendants, collapsing tents. Windows open.
Drawing influences from ritual practices and personal mythologies, old Appalachian music, queerness, strangeness, the woods, growth, and uncertainty. Drawing things out and holding them up to a dim light. Finding complications in old kitchens; mornings soft and echoing in the bowers of an attic.
Mallory believes music and existence are political and full of struggle. Mallory tries their best to be anti-sexist, anti-racist, anti-ableist, anti-classist, anti-authoritarian, and anti-state. They trust a new world is inevitable. Mallory is now perhaps less of a tool to hammer that new world into being, as they were when they first met, and now more of a joyous funeral for the old one, a celebration of its passing, and a hearkening to the trails that have persisted throughout both.
Noel'le uses they/them/theirs and she/her/hers pronouns, Niko uses he/him/his, Martha uses she/her/hers.