Songs of Experience

Tilly and the Wall

Tilly and the Wall joins forces and taps into its youth.

by Patrick Rapa

ROCK/POP

For Omaha quintet Tilly and the Wall, solidarity isn't something to work at—it's instinct. They stand abreast at the front of the stage, three women and five men, just a breath apart. It could be the front of a parade or a band's huddled last stand. Either way, they're together.

"Standing side by side just makes sense for us. There is no front person to the band, and we never really talked about the setup. That's how we got on stage at the first show," says percussionist Jamie Williams. "We like to be close to each other and act as a whole when we are playing."

As much as this togetherness is visually striking, it sets the tone on the band's debut CD, Wild Like Children (Team Love), a warm and inviting pop record made in a basement in winter. Almost everybody sings almost all the time. But the male-female vocals don't mind-meld in a huge Polyphonic Spree or compete like married Mates of State. Wild Like Children is an exercise in unity of execution as well as purpose.

"There is definitely an e pluribus unum vibe to the album," says keyboardist Nick White. "We didn't want single parts on songs, or single songs on the album for that matter. We wanted to blend all five of our personalities rather than showcase each one. We tried to reinforce this blend by usually opting to have all three singers sing the same notes and words instead of harmonizing."

This sort of cohesion is important when you're doing something bold, really putting yourself out there. Like, say, enlisting a tap dancer instead of a drummer.

On disc, you might not notice; one go-round of Wild Like Children might leave you thinking somebody's going a little crazy with the rim taps. The beats click and pound in a staccato complexity unmuddied by cymbal crashes. In concert, Williams kicks up a storm at center stage, occasionally complemented by bassy stomps, handclaps and beating on acoustically pleasant found objects (like suitcases).

"I am inspired by classical tap, Southern stomp culture, and all percussion really," she explains. Since there's no precedent for this kind of arrangement, in indie rock anyway, she had to come with her own bag of tricks. "I use a hollow birch-wood box with a street sign [laid flat] on top of it. We mic the high end from the front of the box and the low end from the back underside of the box."

They're a young band; all are barely in their 20s. Their career highlight so far, according to singer Kianna Alarid, was their CD release party. The same spry, rookie energy that keeps Williams' feet flying informs Tilly and the Wall's image-laden lyrics. The songs are stories of immature love and sweet emotion told in scattered phrases. See track 1, "Fell Down the Stairs":

And I heard the steady swell of applause
For two drunk kids trying to figure out which way was home
They got lost as they were taking off each other's clothes
They realized there was a hole in the boat
And with no lifesaver you try your best to float

The guitar strums, the keyboards lay down pop hooks, and the voices sing and shout. There's an ambiance of curiosity and bliss. It's uplifting. And it can't last.

This is, after all, a band from the land of gritty/depressed acts like The Faint and Bright Eyes and Desaparecidos. The scene's head hunchback Conor Oberst produced Wild Like Children.

Thankfully, when Tilly and the Wall give in to the dark side—as on "Night of the Living Dead" and "Reckless"—they do it with the same enthusiasm and teamwork. These songs are empathetic indictments on their peers, their younger selves, their unlikely little hipster town.

How has Omaha changed since they and their colleagues started getting national recognition?

"One of the only differences is that all of our friends are gone most of the year. As are we," says White. "The environment remains fresh and supportive, though, and I attribute that to both the talent already emerged from Omaha continuing to inspire, and a newer crop of kids with nothing much more to do than go to shows."

Tilly and the Wall plays with Rilo Kiley and Now It's Overhead, Sat., Oct. 9, 7:30 p.m., $12, Starlight Ballroom, 460 N. Ninth St., 800-594-TIXX.