Image by Michael Alan Goldberg
Tilly and the Wall grows up in Philadelphia
March 19, 2008, at the First Unitarian Church
By Caralyn Green
Published: March 20th, 2008 | 12:45pm
Wednesday night with Tilly and the Wall felt like growing up, complete with the sweaty pits and the anthemic chanting of the F-word (that’d be “fuck,” not “feminist,” and with the band, not at them).
About four years ago Tilly and the Wall came out with Wild Like Children, the flagship release on Conor Oberst’s lamely named Team Love Records. Despite its overly twee trappings (the Omaha, Nebraska zip, being named after a kids’ book and having a tap dancer rather than a drummer), the album was more than just novelty. It was impeccably well done, a perfect aural translation of the kind of angst and joy indicative of hormonal defiance. Bottoms of Barrels followed in 2006, a rational follow-up that built on the original sound with higher production values and more adventurous instrumentation.
Now, Tilly and the Wall’s changing once again. Gone are the mousy Winona Ryder hairdos, post-emo tees and jeans, and commitment to sweet indie pop; now the band’s all blond-dyed, gold-laméed, and spandexed out, ready and willing to dance, and hoping you’ll join them.
There’s always been an element of movement to Tilly’s music (it’s impossible not to bring it when the percussion’s a dancer), but if new single “Beat Control,” off the EP of the same name, is any indication of what’s to come on the summer-slated album, we’re in for a treat of a different color. Not too far removed from what Architecture in Helsinki’s doing, Tilly’s mixed up the organic taps, choral vocals and guitars with some citrusy synthetic sounds, creating something akin to Gloria Estefan or “The Hustle” on Sparks — a fitting upshot to that shimmery CSS remix of Tilly’s “The Freest Man.”
While it’s clear that the future is bright (neon or disco silver, even) for the maturing Tillies, they haven’t lost sight of the precocious pop that’s been their staple. Wednesday’s renditions of “Nights of the Living Dead” and “Fell Down the Stairs” off their frosh album, and “Bad Education,” “Urgency,” and “Sing Songs Along” off their sophomore were nothing short of rousing. Too much arousal’s, well, just too much for an all-ages audience on a school night, though, so cathartic ballad “Lost Girls” made an ideal encore. As Little Blonde and Taller Blonde — as I call vocalists Kianna Alarid and Neely Jenkins — sang about running, vanishing, being lost, and never being saved, it seemed every girl in the audience was whispering along. “That song is, like, my life,” sighed a girl to my right, and as sad as this made me, I was glad that at least she’s not alone, and that at least she’s gonna dance, goddammit. That’s called growing up.
Issue #28
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