In Memphis, a city defined by soul, grit, and reinvention, Mary Hatley has been quietly honing a voice that strikes straight to the heart. With the release of her debut album The Poison I Choose, the singer-songwriter emerges not just as a promising new talent, but as a storyteller who knows that music’s greatest power comes from transforming pain into connection.
For Hatley, music has always been more than entertainment — it’s a lifeline. “I grew up listening to Fleetwood Mac, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and Stevie Nicks,” she recalls. “Music became my escape from trauma and my way of processing my past. On this album, I decided to bare all, sharing both my struggles and my triumphs.”
Those struggles shape every note of The Poison I Choose, a 12-track collection produced by Matt Qualls at the renowned Easley McCain studio. The album blends blues, rock, country, and pop, yet it feels unmistakably her own: fierce, vulnerable, and grounded in real-life experience.
From the fiery defiance of “Ricochet,” inspired by a personal legal battle, to the cathartic release of “Dog Days“, a tribute to resilience amid grief, Hatley doesn’t just tell stories — she opens her diary. Tracks like “Miss You Dear” and “Wine, Flowers, & Blood” explore cycles of trauma and religious wounds, while “As Long As You’re Mine” and “Be My Lover” capture the tender, complicated joy of allowing love in after years of self-protection.
Yet even at its most intimate, Hatley’s music never feels closed off. By sharing her experiences so openly, she creates a bridge for listeners to cross. That resonance extends far beyond Memphis — though her hometown remains an essential part of her sound. “What Are You Gonna Do“, with its nod to local disco spot Paula and Raiford’s, anchors the album in her Memphis roots, a reminder that she is both a product of the city and a new voice shaping its rich musical tradition.
Her artistry has drawn comparisons to Elle King, Chris Stapleton, Cyrena Wages, and her idol Stevie Nicks, yet Hatley stands apart through her unfiltered honesty. She doesn’t hide behind metaphor or smooth over the rough edges; instead, she embraces the messiness of heartbreak, resilience, and desire.
The Poison I Choose is a bold introduction, but it feels less like a debut and more like a declaration. For Mary Hatley, music isn’t about perfection — it’s about survival, catharsis, and truth-telling. And in that truth, she’s already found her power.
