Sugar and Spice with Tilly and the Wall

words by Elliot Cole
photos by Evan Mora

   At some point, music has to become a job, right?  A transformation has to take place, making the divide between “art” and “work” blur.  Bands begin to approach their craft as a 9-to-5: interviews take the place of water cooler talk, pre-show soundchecks replace office luncheons, and hastily-scrawled set lists substitute for annoying, lint-caked Post-Its.  Musicians can become workmanlike, robotic, and savvy in the industry side of things.  As we’re settling in for a photo shoot and interview with Omaha’s Tilly and the Wall, guitarist Derek Pressnall rolls up on a skateboard and cutoff shorts, his shaggy hair (just short of a bowl cut) dangling on his forehead.  It becomes obvious: Tilly is not that band.  In fact, seven years and three albums into their career, it’s becoming more evident that they will never be that band.  The bouncy pop darlings that comprise Tilly and the Wall are pulling a Peter Pan on all of us: they never want to grow up, and their fan base is just fine with that.

    Formed in 2001 out of the ashes of various Omaha bands, Tilly – composed of Pressnall, wife and tap dancer/percussionist Jamie, bassist/singer Kianna Alarid, guitarist/singer Neely Jenkins, and keyboardist Nick White – are a vibrant, enthusiastic, and excitable bunch.  Collectively, their high-energy demeanors and disarming smiles are almost unreal.  They are too friendly, too eager to engage strangers in conversation, and far more reminiscent of the smiling teenagers from Saved by the Bell than they are indie musicians.  Derek cruises on his skateboard through the inside stage of the night’s venue, while Alarid explains a tattoo of her cat Hobbes with wide-eyed excitement.  The group talks over each other, squealing and laughing like a pack of high schoolers skipping class behind the gymnasium.

    It’s not the demeanor of a “professional” band.  Nor is it the interaction you would expect from a group of individuals that has just gotten out of a lengthy van ride (the band seems surprisingly un-sick of each other).  It is, however, like talking to a group of youngsters, which makes for a bit of irony when the group talks about their own fan base.

    “You talk to people after shows, and kids are like, ‘you know, this song has meant so much to me!’” says Derek Pressnall.  His loud voice and sharp, excitable demeanor make him seem hyperactive, like a soon-to-be Ritalin candidate.  “And it’s so awesome, that feeling, because we all have that, we all shared that with other bands.  I have these emotional connections to them.  It’s so neat to talk to these fans, these complete strangers–but you’re not strangers, you’re part of something larger than yourselves.”

    “What was really neat [on this tour] is talking to some of the kids that saw us right when we first started,” notes Jenkins, the more soft-spoken member of the group. “So it’s this relationship that keeps circling around and growing together.”  The group nods and laughs in agreement.  

    “They keep on saying ‘Back when I was in high school’!” shouts Alarid.  After a few more laughs, she continues the gag in her best schoolyard voice: “I’ve liked Tilly since 4th grade!”

    In actuality, the majority of the audience at the venue that night is in its mid-20s, not too far off in age from the band itself (the members of Tilly range from late-20s to early-30s).  It’s just that the fans all act like kids, sharing in the enthusiasm of the hook-laden indie pop while wearing brightly colored, poppy attire and bouncing around to the tunes.  “I think the coolest thing is being on stage, singing the songs we wrote,” says the tattoo-adorned Alarid.  “The whole thing comes full circle.  You’re like, ‘weird, this is affecting someone else!’” 

    Those “kids” in the audience do seem affected, and they are just as enthused about Tilly’s latest offering, O.  It is their most enjoyable – and perhaps accessible – disc yet.  It clomps with vibrant rhythms and sparkles with charming harmonies.  It’s both intimate bedroom music and dancefloor stimuli…just as the band planned it to be.  The group recorded demos of the tracks so that they could listen to them in different situations, trying to take on the fans’ perspectives.  “You can listen to things in different environments, like, emotional spaces,” notes Derek Pressnall.  “You can put on something and just start making food in your kitchen.  So you’re listening to it in a different way than you are when you’re really thinking about it and writing it.  You can listen to it in a non-artistic way.”

    While the music is heavy on sugary pop hooks, they balance it with something else, a certain playful-but-edgy bite that makes Tilly both sweet and spicy.  The band shit-talks on shit-talkers on the appropriately named “Pot Kettle Black”:  “Did you hear about that bitch/And what she did?” mutters the facetious Alarid.  However, the group’s sweet side ultimately wins out on “Dust Me Off”: “You're a true friend I can count on, when I'm blue/You pull me up, you dust me off, you pull me through”.  But, appropriately, O ends with teeth: “And I say/Fuck You!” the band snarls as the record ends.

    Acknowledging the occasional fangs of some of the tracks, Alarid explains that “All the songs came out just like wherever you are, right there.  Just whatever energy you’re feeling when writing it comes out.”  If that energy is released with a snarl, so be it, and the musicianship follows in the subtly more aggressive tone.  “I think some of the sounds we went for were a little bit more aggressive and rock.  A little bit dirtier,” says Derek Pressnall.  “A little more punk,” agrees Jenkins.  Compared to the band’s previous discs (2004’s Wild Like Children and 2006’s Bottoms of Barrels), Jenkins has a point.  The band seems to be taking a chance with a little more ferocity, from the rough guitars of “Pot Kettle Black” to the spat-out swear words.

    But Tilly and the Wall has never been afraid of doing things a bit differently.  The group first received attention in part because of Jamie Pressnall, the tap dancer-turned-percussionist that took the place of a drummer for the group (they do add proper drumming for various tracks).  While a misguided few may have written this off as a gimmick, the band and fan base kept growing, and it went from an oddity to a trademark.  “They had a huge picture of us and on the bottom it said ‘They have a tap dancer!’” laughs White as he tells a story of an Aspen performance.  “She’s not going anywhere, guys!” echoes Alarid.

    The tapping does help give their live set a communal, party atmosphere.  A Tilly show is no place for crossed arms: fans dance, sweat, clap, stomp, and, on this warm Austin night, bop around scattered balloons.  “On stage, it all makes sense.  And that’s totally genuine,” says Jenkins.  White claims, “There’s never been a time I’ve stepped on stage and not wanted to play.” This sentiment is obvious in their performance. The band just looks like they’re having fun, the proverbial high schoolers who just happen to have their prom at a sweat-and-beer-soaked venue.

    If the group is reminiscent of a television show—be it Saved by the Bell or a teen-centric comedy—it would only be appropriate that Hollywood (or at least PBS) would come knocking on the door.  In September, Tilly and the Wall was asked to take part in a filming of Sesame Street.  Of course – and this speaks to the breadth of the band’s appeal – the group was also asked to perform a few songs on the first episode of the new 90210.

    “It was so cool,” explains Jenkins.  “The Sesame Street we did on the white screen…Just, like, the whole process was really fun to watch.  We had kids come in and mix around with us and stuff.  Just the whole behind-the-scenes [thing]…we were living it.  It was unreal and super fun.”  The thought of the band hanging around with a bunch of kids isn’t just adorable as a box of kittens; it’s entirely believable.  In truth, it may be difficult to gauge who is more excitable, the kids of Sesame Street or the group itself.

    So which band is Tilly?  Are they the sweethearts sitting on the curb of Sesame Street, kids themselves who are taking reins of growing up in their own way?  Or are they the sass and “Fuck you” of 90210, a group of young adults capable of cunning wit, biting fangs, and snarling music?  Perhaps the band is both. But, even at its sassiest, whenever Tilly and the Wall tries to bare its teeth, all we ever see are smiles.